Capitol Hill shaken by woman's killing

They came to stand outside Shannon Harps' building on Capitol Hill on Wednesday night -- friends, neighbors and strangers brought together by her shocking death.

Not far from where she was stabbed to death Monday night, they stood quietly in the rain, whispering and crying. At times, they held on to each other for comfort.

Harps

"I don't think there's a lot of anger. There's a lot of shock and sadness," said Neal Finne, who volunteered at the Sierra Club where Harps worked.

He had gone along with Harps as she promoted Sierra Club issues in Bellevue. Door after door was slammed in their faces, but Harps never flagged. She had a quiet passion that kept her going, Finne said, and a genuine friendliness that attracted others to her.

"I just can't believe this happened," he said.

Earlier Wednesday, police released an artist's sketch of a "person of interest" in Harps' death, based on witnesses' descriptions of the man they saw running from Harps' stairwell after she was attacked.

Police also were interviewing the victim's friends and associates, and have talked with other persons of interest, including a man who volunteered at the Sierra Club, Assistant Chief Nick Metz said.

No one was arrested Wednesday, and investigators still lacked evidence to say whether the attack was random, he said.

	Police drawing of the person of interest in the murder of Shannon Harps.

"At this point we have no information as to whether or not Ms. Harps knew the individual. There is nothing ... from what witnesses saw that leads us to be able to conclude one way or the other. So, we're looking at it from both angles," Metz said.

"We are not just focusing on one individual. We have not ruled anyone out yet."

Harps, 31, was stabbed several times about 7:10 p.m. Monday just as she entered her condo building in the 1500 block of East Howell Street. Witnesses heard her screaming and rushed to her aid; one or two saw a man running away, Metz said.

Witnesses described the man as white, in his 40s, with a scruffy beard 3 to 4 inches long, and wearing a ski cap, blue hooded jacket and baggy pants. He might have worn a yellow hooded sweatshirt under his coat and was seen running east on Howell and south on 16th Avenue, police said.

Two days later, the killing still reverberated on Capitol Hill. Some worried about crime. Others mourned the loss of Harps, who was putting down roots in the neighborhood.

Customers at the Insomniac Cafe, a block from Harps' condo, buzzed about the slaying, said owner Vito Fedor. "Sure there's some nervousness. But this is a good neighborhood."

A woman visiting the memorial outside Harps' building lit one of the 57 candles and tea lights left along with 21 bouquets and a package of coffee.

Just a block to the north on 15th Avenue is Group Health, and a block away is a Safeway, then come busy coffee shops and bars.

By the memorial, though, it was quiet.

"I read the news and it was disquietingly close to where I live," said Annette McDonald, 68, who lives about a half-mile away on north Capitol Hill. "So I decided to stop by. ..." She wanted to leave something and coffee was all that she had.

Justin Carder, who runs Capitol Hill Seattle, a popular neighborhood blog, said he feels a little fear himself. "Geez, it could have been me. I eat in that area. I walk in that area."

At the same time, he said, there's violence everywhere.

"If you really sit down and think about it, the fear is a little irrational. It's not so much scary, as it's really sad."

The East Precinct plans to boost patrols in the neighborhood where Harps was killed. Crime prevention officers also were meeting with residents and businesses to talk about personal safety. Police were reaching out in the neighborhood, asking anyone with information about the man depicted in the sketch to call the Police Department's 24-hour tip line at 206-233-5000.

As the sun set Wednesday and what remained of the memorial's lit candles glowed more brightly, Katy Ellinger walked up and stood silently. She had been a friend of Harps, she said. "She used to tease me. We used to tease each other."

They hadn't spoken for a while, Ellinger said, struggling to talk. She had tried to call a few days earlier to say hello. She never got to talk to her.

Harps, who grew up near Cleveland, Ohio, was an organizer for the Sierra Club's Northwest Region and moved to Seattle about three years ago. She never expressed concerns about her safety, said Shelly Ehrke, 33, Harps' cousin. "She was really excited about the condo she had bought. She loved Seattle."

Co-workers described Harps as engaging and able to easily connect with people.

Kevin Fullerton, political director of the Sierra Club, rode up to the memorial Wednesday on his bicycle. He'd come to see where it happened. "I miss her already. I can't believe I'm not going to see her at the office."

When the stroke of midnight came on New Year's Eve, several members of Harps' family called each other to say Happy New Year. It wasn't until later that a police officer went to the Florida home of Harps' parents and told them what happened.