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“Both?” She pinned her shoulders against the seat back. “I mean, both. I’m here to do my job, but I can’t help taking a second look at Tiffany’s case.”
“Then do it. As long as you get your work done, I don’t care what you do on the side, Jessica.”
“I’m on it. And I swear, Michael, I have a feeling about this. I think the more I dig into my sister’s case, the more I’ll discover about Morgan’s killer.” She thumped her chest with the flat of her hand. “It’s instinct.”
“I’ve always trusted your instincts. Don’t let me down, and more importantly, don’t let Morgan down.”
As Michael hadn’t demanded her presence at the lab today, Jessica rushed back to her hotel to start working on that card. Of course, the person who’d left the card could’ve purchased it online or in a different area, but she should’ve thought of tracing the card as soon as she’d found it. Her brain wasn’t functioning correctly.
Michael was right. She owed it to Morgan and Morgan’s family to do her job. The card wasn’t only a lead on Tiffany’s case, but it could lead to a clue on Morgan’s, as well.
She pulled into the parking lot of her hotel, and herphone rang again. Holding her breath, she looked at the display—not Michael checking up on her.
“Hi, Finn. How was your class this morning?”
“Good. How’d it go with Ashley?”
“Better than expected in some ways. I ran into Denny at her place.”
“Denny Phelps? What was he doing there?”
“They’re a thing. Apparently, they started seeing each other after Tiffany’s death. I could tell Ashley was uncomfortable about it, but I don’t begrudge them their happiness. I learned a few things, though.”
“Do you want to tell me over dinner? I have office hours, a faculty meeting and an online meeting with my editor.”
Had he just asked her out on a date? There had been so much sexual tension between them when he was a fresh cop and she was a college student looking for answers to her sister’s murder, but once he realized she’d been using him to get information about the case, he’d dropped her. She’d realized at the time that he’d never believe her if she told him that it hadn’t all been an act on her part. She hadn’t even tried.
Now the sparks still kindled, but it was her turn to doubt. Did he have ulterior motives related to his book? Did he want to get close to her and her investigation to sabotage it?
“Jessica? Dinner? My treat.”
“Sure. Yeah. I talked to my supervisor today, and he suggested I run a trace on the condolence card, which I should’ve already implemented. I didn’t even get a chance to tell him about the doll, but I’ll give you the details about that tonight. Seven?”
“I’ll pick you up at your hotel.”
He ended the call before she could change her mind—not that she wanted to change it. She valued his insight, and she owed him. If he wanted fodder for his book, he could try to find it.
Back in her hotel room, she snapped on some blue gloves and removed the card from the safe in the closet. She flipped it over and studied the back.
Any store, including online ones, would carry this brand of card, but she could probably search most of the stores in Fairwood in a few afternoons. Might as well start now and fill up the time before meeting Finn for dinner.
Fifteen minutes later, she hit the first store. The clerk at the counter greeted her as she breezed through the front door of the small drugstore. She found a small slotted shelf of cards in the back near the batteries and phone chargers. Not one sympathy card peeked out from the rows of birthday cards and a smattering of early Halloween cards. People sent cards for Halloween?
The local grocery store didn’t carry cards, and a T-shirt and knickknack shop featured only handmade cards from artists in the area. She bought two of those cards.
Peeking through the window of a convenience store, she spotted a rotating rack filled with cards. She stepped through the front doors and made a beeline for the rack. She spun it around until she saw a few thank-you and sympathy cards. She plucked the two sympathy cards from their spots. One glance told her they weren’t the same as the one she found at Morgan’s memorial, but the same greeting card company produced them. Progress.
She took the bagged card to the counter and held it out to the clerk. “Do you know if your store carried this particular card?”
The guy shoved his hair from his face and squinted at the card. “Is it back there?”
“No, but there are two from the same company. I was just wondering if this card may have been purchased here.” She jiggled the plastic bag pinched between her fingertips at the clerk, as he seemed to be rapidly losing interest in her questions.
He blinked. “Do you have a receipt? Looks like it’s been used. We can’t take it back.”
“I didn’t buy it. I wanted to know—” she spun around and rolled her eyes “—never mind.”
She tucked the card back in her purse and swung by the self-serve soda machine to fill up a cup with half root beer and half Diet Coke. This time the clerk smiled at her as he rang up her purchase.