Page 17 of The Creekside Murder (Pacific Northwest Forensics #1)

“Sweetie?” Ashley’s raspy voice grated across the line, but Jessica seemed incapable of speech, her round eyes glassy in the dim light.

“Ashley, this is Finn Karlsson, a…friend of Jessica’s. You might remember me…”

“Oh, I remember you. Found our Tiff’s body.”

“That’s right. I’m helping Jessica.” He dragged a blanket up the bed and covered Jessica’s shivering body with it. “This scarf Tiffany was knitting, how long was it? I mean how far along was she?”

“Far.” She hacked again. “I’m not saying it was any good, but she was almost done with it. She knitted away with that thing curled up at her feet like some kind of red snake ready to strike. I told her one time, Jessie’s tall, but hell, that thing could wrap around bigfoot’s neck a few times.”

Finn winced and squeezed Jessica’s thigh beneath the blanket. “You never reported this theft to the police?”

“Like I told Jessie, I didn’t think much about it—a doll and a beginner’s knitting project.

Didn’t see the point. Didn’t even make a connection with Tiff’s murder, but I remembered it tonight when Denny and I were talking about Tiff, you know, good times, and we were joking about her knitting.

” Ashley sucked in a breath. “Jessie? Is Jessie okay?”

“I-I’m fine, Ashley.” Jessica pulled the blanket more tightly around her form. “I really appreciate your call. Anything else you remember, please call me anytime.”

“Okay. Didn’t mean to interrupt you and Finn. I know you always had a crush on that cop, but at least he’s not the po-po anymore.”

Finn rolled his eyes at Jessica. “Yeah, thanks for that, Ashley.”

Ashley ended the call after more assurances from Jessica that she was okay, even though neither one of them told Ashley the reason for Jessica’s shock.

Jessica sat, hunched over, the phone in her lap. “Something old, something dead, something stolen, something red. It’s the scarf, isn’t it? He stole that scarf from Tiffany at the same time he stole the rag doll, and he’s using it to strangle women.”

Did he have an answer for her? Did he disagree with her, as fantastic as it all sounded? “But he didn’t use that scarf to strangle Tiffany. The investigators are certain Plank—” Jessica shot him a look from beneath her lashes and he held up his hands “—or whoever killed your sister used a tie.”

“That’s right, even though Plank always used his hands, those big hands.

” She pulled the blanket up to her chin and pinned it to her chest. “The person who killed Morgan and Missy knows too much about Tiffany—things nobody else would know—not to have been involved in her homicide. That sick poem says it all. Tiffany’s murder is old, she’s dead, he stole a red scarf from her. It’s all there, Finn.”

“It’s not all there. We have one person of interest. The cops can talk to Deke, and I’m sure they will after the info I gave them about him, but you of all people know they’ll have to find evidence.

And why now?” Finn scooped up his jeans and untangled his briefs.

“Why did he start up again if he’s been living here all this time with access to plenty of young women? ”

She pulled a pillow over her face and screamed into it.

That’s exactly how he felt right now. Would he ever be able to date this woman without a murder getting in the way?

Peeking over the edge of the pillow, she said, “I’m sorry I took the call.”

“No, you’re not. We just got another vital piece of information that’ll make Detective Morse take that poem in the sympathy card more seriously.

” He pulled on his jeans as he rose from the bed.

“After hearing the phone ring, I doubt you would’ve been able to concentrate on the business at hand, anyway. ”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” She quirked her eyebrows up and down.

“Let’s call it a night. I need to let Bodhi outside.”

At the sound of his name, Bodhi trotted into the room, a fuzzy black sock hanging from his jaws.

Finn pointed at his pet. “I think Bodhi got your sock. It’ll never be the same again.”

“He can keep it as a souvenir of the night his dad almost got laid.”

“And what does his dad get as a memento?”

“You can have my other sock.”

He tried to get her to spend the night at his place, as difficult as that would’ve been for him to have her sleeping in the next room.

They both knew the mood had turned and although he would’ve given it the old college try, he knew Tiffany’s murder consumed Jessica’s thoughts, and he didn’t want to compete.

Tiffany’s ghost already hovered over their relationship.

He didn’t want her haunting the first time he made love to Jessica.

But she insisted on spending the night at her own place, so Finn followed her outside and checked her car before allowing her to leave with promises she’d text him as soon as she got home and locked the doors.

This killer seemed more interested in taunting and tormenting Jessica than killing her, but you couldn’t trust a psychopath. He was moving closer and closer to Jessica. He must have some sort of end game…and that end game just might be Jessica’s death.

About thirty minutes later, as he finished up the egg rolls, sharing one with Bodhi, Jessica texted him.

She thanked him for dinner, for the files, for the info on Deke, and for listening, couching all those words in a bunch of emojis.

But nowhere in the text did she thank him for rocking her world.

Did that mean she regretted it?

Bodhi jumped on the couch next to him with Jessica’s sock clenched between his teeth. Finn rubbed the dog’s head. “I know you’re happy with the spoils of the evening, but I wanted more…so much more.”

* * *

T HE FOLLOWING DAY , Jessica met with Deputy Alvarado regarding the physical evidence for Missy’s homicide case. The evidence from Morgan’s had already been packaged and shipped to the lab for additional testing, including DNA and possible latent fingerprints.

She’d be packaging the physical evidence from Missy’s case and delivering it herself via the sheriff’s van.

The biological evidence from Missy’s autopsy had already been sent to Seattle, including the red fibers, as it had been found beneath Missy’s fingernails.

Had she tried to remove the red scarf tightening around her throat?

Did the killer have this in his hands when he was leading her down the trail to Missy?

She spoke to Alvarado without lifting her head. “Did you see the red fibers before they were sent to Seattle for DNA testing? It could be yarn, couldn’t it?”

“Could be.” Alvarado smacked the table. “That Deke Macy is bald, shaved head. Might explain why there’s no hair left at the scene. Or maybe the killer wore a beanie, tucking his hair in, and this is a fiber from that.”

“Or it’s the murder weapon. He used it for Morgan, too.” She dropped another plastic bag into the pouch. “Have you heard anything more about Macy?”

“I know Detective Morse brought him in for questioning. He may have worked with both murdered women, or at least had contact with them.”

Jessica murmured, “And he worked with my sister, Tiffany Hunt, at the time of her murder ten years ago.”

Alvarado put down his clipboard where he’d been checking off the items as she put them in the pouch. “I heard about that, Jessica. I’m so sorry. I had a sister who was murdered by her ex-boyfriend—domestic violence case. I know it’s tough.”

Her gaze flew to his face. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s hard to fathom a guy like Macy getting away with one murder and holding off for ten years before committing his next.”

“That’s true, but maybe he committed crimes while he was on vacation or visiting someone.” She dropped the last item into the pouch as Alvarado marked it off on his form. “I’m just hoping he’s our guy and no other young women are in danger.”

“I hope so, too. Detective Morse will get to the truth.” He scrawled his signature on the form and held it out for her to sign.

They didn’t get to the truth of Tiffany’s murder .

Jessica added her signature and tucked the form into the pouch.

She had already placed the rag doll and the sympathy card in separate bags to bring to the lab, but the sheriff’s department wouldn’t allow them to be labeled with the official evidence, as she’d already destroyed the chain of custody several times over.

“I’ll be phoning in for updates. Can I contact you, Deputy Alvarado?”

“Call me Tomas, and you can.” He jerked his thumb at the door. “Wait in the lobby of the station. Deputy Davis is driving the van over.”

“Thanks.” She slung the pouch over her shoulder and headed for the lobby. She peeked down the corridor, wondering if Morse was grilling Macy behind one of those doors.

After Finn had told her about Deke Macy, she’d looked him up online.

Didn’t have much of a social media presence.

Mostly followed young Instagram models, liking their sexy poses and posting emojis with tongues hanging out.

Finn had been right. If he was trying to hide his dirty deeds, he was hiding in plain sight.

Of course, that could be a ruse, too—the do you think I’m that stupid defense.

Avery Plank had lurked beneath the radar—not exactly a family man, had one divorce and one daughter in his past—but he’d been a respected engineer in his field. He’d escaped his rough childhood, as she had, but the darkness had seeped too far into his soul for him to evade it.

“Ms. Eller?”

She jumped and spun around to come face-to-face with a beefy deputy who looked like he could be a defensive lineman for the Seattle Seahawks. She’d be safe with him.

“Deputy Davis? You can call me Jessica.”

“And you can call me Kimani, CSI lady.” He patted the pouch. “I’ll need to check the form before we get in the van.”

She hoisted the bag onto a table in the lobby and slipped out the form. She placed it on the table next to the bag.

He scanned the form and glanced in the bag. “You have two other paper bags coming with us?”

“In my car, not official evidence.”