Page 14 of The Creekside Murder (Pacific Northwest Forensics #1)

The following morning, Finn still had that kiss on his mind. He hadn’t wanted to take advantage of the situation, as Jessica had been shaken up by the discovery of Missy Park’s body.

What kind of sick game was this guy playing with Jessica? Why her? If he didn’t kill Tiffany Hunt ten years ago, he was obviously fascinated with the case, seeking to make Jessica a part of these current murders.

Finn could no longer ignore the fact that the person tormenting Jessica had killed Morgan and Missy. He had led Jessica right to his most recent trophy. That was no coincidence—he’d wanted her to find Missy’s body.

Finn knew the investigators were already trying to trace the number that texted Jessica last night. She’d turned over her cell phone to them at the scene, but she’d nailed it. The number would belong to an untraceable burner phone.

Finn hoped they’d find some useful evidence at the scene. If the killer led Jessica on from Morgan’s murder site to Missy’s, he may have left a trail.

Finn still had his contacts at the King County Sheriff’s Department where his father had worked as a deputy for fifteen years.

That’s why the department had asked him to stand with them when Detective Morse held an information meeting for the students this morning.

A sense of dread had crept over Finn as he had stared out at worried, fearful faces, many of them past and present students.

He hit the lights and locked up as he left his office. He had his own piece of the investigation to do today.

In the university bookstore, he took the escalator up to the student store and squeezed past a gaggle of people clustered around the energy drink display.

He located the carousel of cards in the back of the store and spun it around to find the sympathy cards. As he ran his fingers down the empty racks, someone bumped his elbow.

“Sorry, Dr. Karlsson.” One of his students hovered behind him, her backpack swinging in front of her. “Are you looking for a card to leave for Missy Park, too?”

“I…uh, yeah. Looks like they’re all sold out.”

The student, whose name he’d forgotten, dabbed the end of her nose with a tissue. “Maybe they never restocked them after Morgan’s murder. My parents want me out of here. Thought I’d be safer at this small school than at U-Dub, but Seattle isn’t looking so bad right now.”

“They’ll catch him, but in the meantime, stay safe. Don’t walk alone at night, skip the online dating for now. Did you know either of the women?”

“Saw Missy once in a while because she worked at the bookstore, and I work at the coffeehouse inside the bookstore. Nice girl. Smart. Don’t know why she’d be running at night alone, especially after what happened to Morgan.

” She gave a little shiver. “I’m not going out—I mean, except with my friends. ”

All these students were too trusting. “Well, take care…and get yourself some pepper spray.”

The girl’s eyes widened as he turned away and went to the counter, grabbing a bottle of juice on his way. When it was his turn, he leaned in and said, “How long have you been sold out of sympathy cards?”

The kid, Ryan according to his name tag, blinked and ran a hand through his curly hair. “I think for a while, Professor Karlsson. Sold out after Morgan.” He looked left and right, and then leaned in and whispered, “Are you helping with the investigation?”

“Yeah.” Well, wasn’t he?

“I’m sure my manager can give you more info on the cards, like what we stock, when they were ordered and stuff like that.

He’s down in the basement, management offices, when he’s not up here, riding our asses.

” Ryan’s face colored up to the curls flopping on his forehead as he rang up the juice. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

“I got you. What’s your manager’s name?”

“Deke Macy.” Ryan guffawed. “You can imagine what we call him behind his back.”

“Unfortunate name.” Finn slipped a twenty across the counter. “Thanks, Ryan.”

Finn cracked open the juice as he walked back toward the escalators.

The basement of the university bookstore housed the business end of the whole complex, which included the convenience store he’d just left, a coffeehouse, a cookies and ice cream shop, and a business center that offered printers and mailing supplies to this digital generation that didn’t own anything like that.

Fewer students roamed the space down here where older professionals held down the fort. Finn cruised the perimeter until he located the management offices and pushed through the door.

A woman behind a banking type window glanced up at his entrance and pushed her glasses up into her neat Afro. “Hello, can I help you?”

“I’m Finn Karlsson over in criminology. I’m looking for Deke Macy.”

“Oh, hi, Professor Karlsson. Saw you at the information meeting this morning. Terrible what’s happening on this campus. I’m Nia Humphry. I run accounting down here in the bowels of the beast.”

“You do an awesome job, Nia. You can call me Finn. Is Mr. Macy in?”

“You can call him Deke. He’s in his office. I’ll buzz you in, and you’ll see his office when you make a left.” She waved a hand behind her.

She buzzed the door and as he slipped through, a head popped around one of the cubicles. “Oh, hello, Dr. Karlsson.”

Finn schooled his face into a pleasant smile when he saw Dermott Webb. Just his luck. The guy had better not try to corner him here with his tedious questions. “Mr. Webb. What brings you to this part of campus?”

Nia spoke up for him. “Oh, I couldn’t manage without Dermott’s help back here. He’s a part-timer but could probably do my job.”

“Not true.” Dermott gave Nia a shy smile. “I have some inventory and accounting background from my stint in the army, so I jumped when I saw this job advertised.”

“Well, I’m glad you did, baby. Show Professor Karlsson Deke’s office.”

“This way, Dr. Karlsson.”

Finn followed Dermott’s stiff back down a short hallway lined with small offices. The dude must be better with numbers than people.

Dermott stopped and pointed but didn’t go near the doorway himself. He mouthed, this one .

Finn poked his head inside the office as he tapped on the door. “Deke?”

Deke dragged his gaze away from the computer monitor in front of him and gave Finn the once-over. “Yeah. Who wants to know?”

“I’m Finn Karlsson, professor over in criminology. Just had a couple of questions for you about the student store inventory—if you can help me out.” Finn took two steps into the small office and extended his hand to Deke across the messy desk.

Deke stood up, the fluorescent light bouncing off his perfectly shaved head, and stuck out his hand. As they shook, Deke gave Finn’s hand a crushing squeeze. Obviously, those muscles he cultivated weren’t just for show. He had the strength to go along with them.

“Sure, I know you. Have a seat.” Deke snapped his laptop closed and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head, biceps flexed.

Was this a contest or something? Finn kept his muscles under wraps and sat in the lone chair opposite the desk. “I was just in the student store and had a question about the sympathy cards.”

Deke winked. “You helping out the cops on these murdered girls?”

“Not really. Was in the store to pick up a juice—” he held up the bottle as proof “—saw the cards and had a thought.”

“Shame about those girls. Couple of hot ones, too, but if you ask me, girls shouldn’t be running around campus with their skimpy workout clothes at night and not expect some attention.”

Finn clenched his fist in his lap. “They got more than attention, didn’t they?”

“Yeah, yeah. Horrible stuff. The parents—” he shook his bald head “—can’t imagine. I got a daughter myself. My ex is a bitch, but what are you gonna do?”

Maybe not victim-blame and call women bitches for a start. Finn swallowed his retort. “Anyway, about those cards. About how many do you stock and how many did you sell after Morgan’s murder? Did you sell out and restock?”

Deke flipped open his laptop again, and his fingers raced across the keyboard.

“We don’t stock many sympathy cards. I mean, what do college kids have to be sorry about?

Let’s see, Morgan Flemming was murdered eight days ago.

Had a full complement of sympathy cards on that day—about twenty-five of them.

Sold out of every last one two days after that.

Haven’t restocked yet. More coming in a few days.

Who knew we’d have a run on sympathy cards? ”

Finn had pulled out his phone that contained the picture of the condolence card with Tiffany’s name on it, but he kept it in his lap, tracing its edges with his fingertip.

Did he really want to show the card to Deke?

The guy hadn’t hesitated one second when coming up with the date of Morgan’s murder, and he had a creepy vibe.

He should probably just turn this info over to Detective Morse or Deputy Holden, Zach, his buddy from the academy.

As he shifted in his chair, a voice trilled his name from the doorway. “Oh, hey, Professor Karlsson. We’re still having class tomorrow, right?”

He twisted around and greeted one of his students, Gabby Medina, tucking her long dark hair behind one ear. “Hi, Gabby. Yes, we’re having class. What are you doing here? I didn’t realize so many students worked on the management side of things on campus. Good experience.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t work here. I work at the ice cream shop, but this is where we pick up and drop off the money for the registers. I saw Dermott out front and asked about class. He told me you were back here with Deke and to ask you myself.”

“Hi, Gabbeeeey.” Deke waved at her with his fingers as he drew out her name.

“Hi, Dick, I mean Deke.” She waved at him in the same manner, rolling her eyes. “Thanks, Professor Karlsson. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

When Gabby’s footsteps faded away, Deke gave Finn another wink. “Hot little number. As a professor, I bet you have all the girlies fawning over you.”

Finn studied Deke through half-lidded eyes until the other man coughed and shifted his gaze back to his computer. “So, that’s what we have on the cards. Anything else?”

Definitely not showing this guy the card .

Finn asked, “All the employees who work on campus come here for the register money?”

“Not all. Just the ones who open or close the register. Nia handles those transactions, along with that dork Dermott.” Deke cracked his knuckles. “Anything else, Professor?”

“No, thanks for your help.” He’d investigate the hell out of this guy if he still worked in that capacity—but he didn’t. As he stood at the door, Finn made a half turn. “Yeah, one more thing. You could pull the transaction records for whoever bought a card, right? Or video surveillance?”

Did the skin around Deke’s mouth just blanch?

“N-not the video. We record over that, but the transactions? Sure, as long as it was a card purchase and not cash.”

And if Deke Macy bought any sympathy cards to leave at a memorial site, he’d know that and most assuredly pay cash.

“You’ve been a big help, Deke.” Finn hit the doorjamb with the palm of his hand. “Thanks, man.”

Before he left the management office, Finn stopped at the front window. “Nia, do you know if either Morgan Flemming or Missy Park came to this office to open or close a register? I know they both worked at the bookstore complex.”

Her face creased with concern. “Did they, now? I don’t recall. Dermott, you remember?”

Dermott peered around the computer monitor. “They weren’t regulars, but that doesn’t mean they weren’t here. Sometimes the regulars are out, or they send someone else. So anyone who works in the complex could conceivably handle the money. I didn’t realize they both worked on campus.”

Finn could see the calculation in Dermott’s eyes from here. He hoped none of his students were going to take it upon themselves to do some investigating on their own—like he was.

“Thanks, you two. Now I know where to go if I ever need change.”

“You can come visit anytime you like, Dr. K.”

“Thanks, Nia.” He stopped one more time with one foot out the door and made a half turn.

“How long have you been working here, Nia?”

“Oh, baby.” She waved a set of manicured nails in the year. “Don’t age me, now. I’ve been here for over twenty years.”

He lowered his voice. “And Deke? How long has he been working in this office?”

“This office?” Nia rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “I’d say about four years.”

Finn’s shoulders slumped as he widened the door. “Okay, thanks again.”

“That’s this office.” She wagged a finger at him. “He’s been working at the university for longer than that, maybe twelve years total.”

“Really?” That stopped Finn in his tracks. So Deke was here when Tiffany was murdered. He never mentioned that murder to Finn.

“He climbed his way up the ladder. Proud of it, too. He’ll tell you himself he started as a lowly food service worker.”

“Food service, huh?”

Finn exited the office, chewing the side of his thumb. Hadn’t Tiffany worked in food service?