Page 15 of The Creekside Murder (Pacific Northwest Forensics #1)

“You discovered the body?” Michael’s voice rumbled over the phone. “What the hell are you doing out there, Jessica?”

“The killer wanted me to discover Missy, Michael. He lured me out and led me on.”

“The question is, why would you allow yourself to be lured and led by anyone? You’re there to collect and analyze evidence for a murder…now two.”

“I completed the evidence report on Morgan Flemming, and I’m ready to send it to you this afternoon.

I just came back from my meeting with Deputy Alvarado, and I was at the Missy Park crime scene before that.

” She’d been enumerating her accomplishments on her fingertips—not that Michael could see her over the phone.

“I’m busy, Michael, but this killer has some sort of interest in my sister’s case. He’s pulling me into it.”

“That’s dangerous. You don’t need to be pulled into anything. The next time you get a text like that, you call Detective Morse.” He cleared his throat, lecture over. “Any more evidence present at the Park crime scene than Morgan’s?”

“A bit more. Found red fibers again, this time under Missy’s fingernails, and I found more on the trail.”

“The fibers could be from the murder weapon wrapped around her throat.”

“That’s what I’m thinking.” She was also thinking about that rhyme on the sympathy card—something old, something dead, something stolen, something red She heard a beep on his end of the line.

“I have to take this call. You be careful. It sounds like someone’s put a target on your back for whatever reason.”

The reason was that she was Tiffany’s sister. “I’ll be careful.”

Red fibers. Had Jessica just tripped over another coincidence? Red had been Tiffany’s favorite color. She’d owned a lot of red clothing. What had her sister been wearing when she was killed?

Jessica checked the phone she’d gotten back from the sheriff’s department. They’d downloaded her data and would try to trace the phone that texted her, although they all knew it wouldn’t be that easy.

No messages from Finn today. Was it because he knew she didn’t have her phone or because of that kiss last night?

She’d been waiting for a kiss from him for a long time.

When she’d been leading him on ten years ago, she hadn’t wanted him to kiss her.

By the time she wanted it, he’d discovered her deception and had backed off.

She’d like to think they had another chance. She scrolled through her contacts and tapped his name.

He answered on the first ring, as if he’d been waiting. “You got your phone back.”

“Yes, the deputies got what they wanted and gave it back to me. I’ve had an exhausting day on top of that terrifying night, but I have something else to get through before I can rest.”

“Can I help?”

Finn never failed her. “Do you still have the case file from my sister’s murder?”

“I don’t have the case file, but I have a ton of copies and notes. What do you need?”

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 an invigorating 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 squealed and 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.

“You could’ve just hidden the evidence and pretended you’d cooked this feast yourself.” She swept a hand across the counter. “I would’ve never known and been so impressed.”

“Never had you pegged as a woman impressed by food or cooking or…lying.” He picked up one of the white plastic bags and waved it like a flag. “I give credit where credit is due—Han Ting.”

She grabbed the take-out container with the rice and dug a spoon into it. “I’m impressed that you followed me into the forest, without my knowledge, and then ran toward me when you heard me scream. Rice?”

“Please.” He shoved both plates toward her and opened another container.

They piled their plates high with food, Finn poured the wine she brought into the two waiting glasses, and they sat down across from each other. “This is a nice place, remote but not too far from civilization. At least you have a few neighbors on the water.”

“Blood money.” He tore into a packet of soy sauce and dumped it over his food. “Settlement from my dad’s accident.”

“I’m sure he would’ve approved of this place, close to nature and the things you love.” She plucked a piece of chicken from her plate and pointed at Bodhi. Finn nodded.

“I think he would’ve been happier had I stayed with law enforcement. That was his dream job for me.”

“Yeah, well, parents aren’t supposed to have dream jobs for their kids.

” She broke apart a pair of chopsticks and clicked them together.

“But at least your dad had dreams for you. My mom’s dreams included the government money she got for two kids.

She would’ve been even happier to collect for a third, my half brother, but he was a few years younger than I and someone in the neighborhood tattled on her, so protective services whisked him away. ”

“Have you ever tried to track him down?”

“It was a closed adoption.” She shrugged, trying to make light of the pain she felt when children’s services snatched away her baby brother.

“Tiffany had made some strides in locating him, but she never had a chance to share any of that with me. I started from scratch recently. I even hired someone to help. She’s made a few inquiries, but no luck so far. ”

“Have you been back to the house where you grew up? I remember it wasn’t far from here. On the other side of the peninsula by Bangor Base, right?”

“That’s right. I took you there once. It was the only stability in Mom’s life.

A navy buddy of my grandfather’s owned the place and let us live there for cheap.

Wasn’t much of a house.” She gave an exaggerated shiver, shimmying her shoulders.

“I wouldn’t go back there now. Nothing but bad memories. ”

“I’m sorry. That must’ve been a tough life for you girls. If Tiffany protected you in that environment, I understand why it’s so important for you to get justice for her.”