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“I’m not here to do an inspection,” Jessica said, as she immediately scanned the room with its topsy-turvy pillows, cluttered coffee table, sporting full ashtrays and the requisite pizza box. “Looks about the same as the place you shared with Tiffany.”
“Old habits die hard.” Ashley grabbed a handful of papers from a cushion on the couch and dropped them on the kitchen table, already a repository for some kind of helter-skelter filing system. “Have a seat, Jessie. I heard you’re a hotshot CSI lady or something.”
Perching on the edge of the sagging floral couch, Jessica shrugged. “I work in a forensics lab for the state.”
“I figured you’d end up doing something like that.” Ashley reached for a pack of cigarettes and then pushed them between the cushions. “That or become a cop. Is that why you’re in town? That poor little Morgan Flemming?”
Jessica’s spine stiffened. Ashley knew she worked for the Washington State Patrol, knew about Morgan’s murder and knew she was here in an official capacity. Fairwood always had a small-town vibe. Everyone must know.
“That’s my official reason for being here, but you had to have noticed the similarity between Morgan’s death and Tiffany’s, Ashley, just like I did.”
“Listen, sweetie. I loved Tiff, me and her—” she crossed one finger over the other “—two of a kind, but it didn’t cross my mind that Morgan’s killing was the same as Tiff’s. Two murdered girls. It happens.”
“I suppose you’re right, but I did find something strange at the memorial site for Morgan and I wanted to ask youabout it.” As she reached into the bag with the doll, a man coughed from the back of the mobile home.
Her fingers curled around the rag doll, and she froze. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you lived with someone here.”
Ashley’s smooth, full face flushed pink. “Well, yeah…”
“Baby, who you talking to?” A skinny guy with dirty-blond hair brushing his shoulders stepped into the living room, blinking. “Hey, it’s little Jessie.”
“Denny?” Jessica’s mouth fell open, as her gaze darted toward Ashley, now beet-red and fidgeting. “You live here? I tried to find you, too, but couldn’t get an address for you.”
“I’m driving a truck. On the road most of the time, but I stay here when I’m in Fairwood.” He jerked a thumb at Ashley, his nails bitten to the quick. “Me and her hooked up after…you know, after Tiff passed. Nothing bad about it, Jessie. It’s like we kinda needed each other.”
“I’m not judging you—either of you.”
“The cops were quick to jump on me. I guess the husband and boyfriend are always prime suspects.”
“It was more than that, Denny.” Ashley twisted her hands in her lap. “You were dealing.”
Jessica jerked her head toward Denny. How had she not known that at the time? “You were dealing drugs?”
Denny’s nostrils flared as he glanced at Ashley. “Small-time stuff. Not like I was with a cartel or anything.”
Jessica licked her lips. “Well, even small dealers eventually answer to the cartels, even if you’re many levels removed. Why did the cops find that significant? Did you have any disgruntled customers?”
“Nothing like that, and if they were mad about something, they’d take it out on me, not my girl. Tiff had nothing to do with any of my business.” He ran a hand throughhis scraggly hair. “I felt guilty when Tiff was murdered, but not because I had anything to do with it or brought it down on her. Just ’cuz I couldn’t protect her.”
Jessica’s nose tingled, and her throat felt thick. “I’m sure the cops investigated that angle.”
“They got their guy, anyway.” Denny scratched his goatee. “It was that Creekside Killer dude, Avery Plank.”
Biting her bottom lip, Ashley sent Jessica an imploring look. Ashley knew Jessica had her doubts back then, and she did, too, but she wasn’t here to stir up any more anguish for Denny.
Jessica took a deep breath. “Yeah, Plank. But I came by to ask you about a doll that Tiffany had, Ashley.”
“You don’t even have to tell me.” Ashley waved a hand in the air. “I know what you’re talking about—that rag doll. Tiff told me it had sentimental value.”
“This one.” Jessica pulled the doll out of the bag and shook it in the air.
“Just like that doll. Did you have one as a kid, too?” Ashley shoved her hand between the cushions to retrieve the pack of cigarettes.
“I-I think this is the same doll that Tiffany had. It was mine, and I gave it to her. There was only one doll.”
Ashley dropped the cigarettes. “Where’d you get that, Jessie?”
Jessica smoothed out the doll’s checkered dress. Should she tell them? Would they think she was crazy? Did it matter? “I found it at Morgan Flemming’s memorial, along with the flowers and candles and stuffed bears.”