Page 24 of The Creekside Murder (Pacific Northwest Forensics #1)

The vigil last night had ended in chaos as word of another murder leaked. He’d had doubts that his female students would even make it to class next week. The president was making noise about switching classes online until the police could get things under control.

When the shower stopped, Finn tapped on the bathroom door. “Breakfast is on the way. What’s the name of the most recent true crime site you visited?”

Jessica’s muffled voice came through the door. “Cold Case dot com. We can access it on my laptop. I have an account with them, and the log-in is saved on my computer. Just give me a few more minutes.”

Finn backed away from the door, trying not to picture Jessica stepping out of the shower, rubbing a towel across her body. “Take all the time you need.”

He went back to his computer and logged in to the teacher portal for Kitsap College and started entering the midterm grades. He’d done a good job of distracting himself, as he hadn’t even noticed Jessica had entered the room until she came up behind him, touching his shoulder.

“Have you looked at any of the news about Gabby’s murder?”

“Not this morning.” A knock on the door interrupted them. “You can switch over to a news site while I get our breakfast.”

He opened the door to a young guy gripping the handles of a cart laden with silver-domed dishes and a pot of coffee. “Good morning… Professor Karlsson.”

“Morning.” Finn cocked his head. His classes tended to be big, and he didn’t always get to know his students.

“Uh, Jamie… Martin.” He wheeled the cart into the room and said over his shoulder, “Had you for Criminal Investigations. Good class. I’m planning on law school.”

Jessica glanced up and smiled.

As he parked the cart next to the table where Jessica pored over the laptop, Jamie’s speculative gaze flickered from Jessica back to Finn.

At least Jessica was fully dressed, even down to her white sneakers. “Glad you got something out of the class.”

Jamie started transferring the dishes from the cart to the table. “Did you really find Gabby’s body last night?”

“I was on the scene, yeah.” Finn shoved his hand in his pocket for some cash. “Did you know Gabby?”

“Not really. Saw her around.” Jamie placed some cloth napkins and silverware on the table. “The women on campus are terrified. My girlfriend said she’s not leaving her apartment. Are we going to online classes?”

“Maybe.” Finn held out a generous tip, folded between his fingers. “Keep that girl of yours safe—and yourself, too.”

Finn walked Jamie to the door and locked the top lock behind him.

Jessica picked up the coffee pot and poured two cups. “There isn’t much online, but there might be a witness this time.”

“That’s good news. Did someone see something before or after the crime?”

“A woman thinks she saw Gabby walking away from the quad last night with a guy—dressed in black with a black hoodie.”

“These kids wear hoodies like armor. Everyone walks around with their hoods up, hiding their faces. Was that the case with this man? Or woman, who knows?”

“Yes. She can’t give any kind of description, other than the clothing, but that would match what I saw. Also, if she was calmly walking away from the vigil with this guy, she must’ve known him.”

“After Deke Macy, the sheriff’s deputies are questioning all the people who work on campus.”

“That’s a tall order.” She tapped one cup of coffee with a spoon. “Cream? Sugar?”

“Thanks, I’ll dump some cream in there.” He lifted the lid from one of the plates and inhaled the sweet cinnamon aroma. “Now, that smells good.”

Jessica rearranged the table, moving his laptop to the credenza and pulling out her own, which she set down next to the food. “I’ll bring up the cold case website.”

“Eat something first.” He shoved her plate toward her. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Physically, I’m fine. Emotionally?” She whipped the napkin into her lap and sliced a corner off the end of her French toast. “I’m a wreck. Sad, confused, still in shock. I can’t believe what I witnessed last night. Can’t believe we talked to Avery Plank.”

“I hate to admit it, but he made a lot of sense.” Finn dived into his bacon and eggs and helped himself to another cup of coffee.

Jessica picked at her French toast, plucked off some candied pecans and then shoved the plate toward him. “Try it.”

As he plunged his fork into the cinnamon swirls, Jessica licked her lips and pulled her laptop in front of her. Her fingers tapped the keyboard and she whistled. “Celine, my PI, thinks she located my brother. I had ignored an email she sent a few days ago, so she sent me another.”

“That’s good.” He waved a fork encrusted with sticky crumbs in her direction. “Any news about the case?”

“Nothing.” She clicked the keys again and moved the laptop to share the screen with him. “Here’s the website, Cold Case dot com.”

“Why is your sister’s case on here? It’s not officially a cold case.”

“There are a lot of cases like that—ones where there’s doubt.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “You’re not the only one with doubts?”

“No, I’m not.” She signed into the website and selected a chat room from her saved favorites.

She sucked in a breath. “Great minds think alike. There’s been a lot of activity here the past few weeks.

Those of us who doubted now see the connection between Tiffany’s murder and the current homicides—and these people don’t even know half of what I know. ”

Finn placed a hand over hers, hovering over the keyboard, fingers ready to type. “And they’re not going to know what you know, right? Keep the card, the doll, the red fibers to yourself. You could compromise this investigation.”

She flicked his hand from hers. “I know that.”

Peering over her shoulder as she typed, he said, “Your profile name is jessiejames? He was an outlaw.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not easy thinking up original profile names.

” She skimmed through the messages. “Yep, yep. These online sleuths noticed the similarities between Tiffany’s murder and Morgan’s right away.

Wow, they’ve even read about the witness who saw Gabby with someone last night. They’re on top of things.”

“Any of them ever solve a real crime?” Finn jabbed his finger at an envelope icon with red numbers on it in the upper-right corner of the window. “What’s that?”

“Private messages. Members can message each other privately if they want to keep something out of the public chat room.”

“Looks like you have messages.”

“A lot of time it’s personal requests, sometimes appeals for money that the moderators don’t allow.” The cursor skittered toward the envelope and Jessica clicked on it.

A string of messages appeared, all from the same user.

Finn asked, “Do you know who The Hunter is?”

“Doesn’t ring a bell.” She double-clicked on one of the messages and gasped. “It’s him, Finn. The Hunter is the killer.”