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She scooped in a big breath. “I want to know what my sister was wearing that night, specifically.”
“I don’t remember, but I know it wasn’t running clothes like these two women.”
Jessica gave a short laugh. “My sister in running clothes? No way. I’d like to see a catalog of her clothing, down to her socks and shoes. Do you think your files have that?”
“I’m sure they do.” He paused and sipped something. “How about you come to my place tonight for dinner? I’ll share the files with you—and some other information I discovered today—and you can let me know why Tiffany’s clothing has become important to you.”
“I’d like that, but I don’t want to put you out. Do you cook?”
“Not well, but there’s a great Chinese place near the university, and I can swing by there on my way home. I’m still at the school. Does that work?”
“Perfectly. What time do you want me there? And I promise I won’t be late this time.”
He replied, “Or sneak out to meet a killer?”
“No promises there.”
They decided on a time, and he gave her directions to his place. Maybe they did have a second chance.
A few hours later, Jessica pulled her car behind Finn’s Jeep and idled, taking in the view. Through the open window, the sweet, sticky smell of alder, the fresh spiciness of the pine and the salt from the bay combined to create aninvigorating aroma that prickled her face. She inhaled it before rolling up the window and cutting the engine.
She strode up the stone walkway and caught glimpses of the bay undulating behind the house. A profusion of blooms spilled over flower boxes hugging the house, their colors visible but muted beneath the lights that flashed on at her approach. She almost waved at the cameras she knew Finn would have pointing at the porch.
She rang the doorbell, a bottle of white wine in a gift bag swinging from her fingertips. Did white go with Chinese? Did Finn even like white wine? She should’ve brought beer instead.
As she switched the bag from one hand to the other, Finn answered the door in a pair of faded jeans and a white T-shirt that clung to his muscles. He looked hot in his professor slacks and jacket but even hotter when he dressed down. He’d told her he avoided dressing casually for class because he wanted to draw that line between himself and his students—probably to fend off all the female students hot for teacher, too.
“You found me.” He ushered her inside the cozy living room, decked out in warm beige and brown hues with splashes of orange and red Native American influences.
The room enveloped her in a warm hug, but the sliding glass doors to the deck in the back drew her like a magnet. She parked in front of the doors and gazed at the glassy bay beyond, a wooden pier jutting into its depths. “Is that your boat?”
“Perfect, isn’t it? I can motor over to Whidbey or the San Juan Islands.”
Something goosed her from behind and she squealedand spun around. A fawn-colored Lab wagged its tail enthusiastically.
“Bodhi! I thought I taught you better manners than that.” Finn lifted his hand over the dog’s head. “Sit and shake.”
Bodhi complied and sat at Jessica’s feet, lifting one paw for the taking. She grabbed its paw. “Hello, Bodhi. Male?”
“Yeah, he’s my camping, hiking, boating, fishing companion.”
Scratching behind Bodhi’s ear, she said, “No wonder you don’t have a wife.”
Finn cocked his head. “Do you have a pet?”
“I had a cat, but she died last year.”
“Sorry to hear that. It’s always hard losing a pet.” He raised his brows. “Is that why you don’t have a husband?”
“Probably reason 992.” She held up the wine bag. “I brought a bottle of white. Is that okay?”
“That’s fine. I bought a bottle for you, too, but yours is cold, so we’ll drink this first.”
“First? Are we having a second?”
“You did say it was a rough day.”
He took the wine to the kitchen, and she trailed after him. The Chinese food cartons littered the countertop, and he’d set a small table with place mats, plates, silverware and wineglasses.