Page 26 of The Creekside Murder (Pacific Northwest Forensics #1)

Finn careened toward the Fairwood Flats Mobile Home Park and slammed on his brakes outside the gates as he met a phalanx of emergency vehicles and a huge crowd of people. He’d never get through all of that, would never get to Jessica.

He spied the red hair of Detective Morse and threw his Jeep into Park as he scrambled out of his car. He’d been elbow-deep in grading all afternoon, but his buddy Zach had given him the heads-up about another dead body—once again discovered by Jessica Eller.

She was supposed to be on vacation.

He elbowed through the lookie-loos until he got to the crime scene tape, keeping the hordes at bay. He edged toward the deputy, one he didn’t know, manning the perimeter.

“Hey, man. The woman who discovered the body is my…girlfriend. Can I duck under to make sure she’s okay?”

“Sorry, Professor Karlsson. Nobody’s going in or out except authorized personnel. I think Detective Morse is almost done questioning Ms. Eller. You shouldn’t have to wait long to see her. She’s fine.” The deputy grimaced. “The other one, not so much.”

At least the deputy knew who he was. That might not gain him entrée into the magic crime circle, but it might get him something else. He dipped his head to the deputy’s ear. “The other woman, Ashley King, right?”

The deputy nodded once, his gaze darting around to make sure nobody saw him talking to Finn.

Finn whispered, “Strangled like the others?”

“That’s the thing.” Quick glance over Finn’s shoulder. “She was beaten to death with a blunt object.”

Finn’s gut knotted. The Kitsap Killer had wanted to distinguish this murder from his others.

He had to know that killing Ashley King would connect him to Tiffany Hunt’s murder, especially with Plank disavowing his previous confession.

Maybe he didn’t care. Maybe he was ready to take credit for that ten-year-old murder.

Had he called Jessica to the scene again? There’s no way she would’ve come here on her own this time—not after what happened last night and her boss reading her the riot act about mishandling evidence. Besides, Jessica didn’t have her phone. How would he have contacted her?

When Morse shifted positions, Finn caught a glimpse of Jessica, her blond hair hanging around her pale face, her arms crossed over her chest, shoulders hunched. It took every ounce of control and reason he had to stay behind the yellow tape and not go charging over there and take her in his arms.

He shuffled out of the crowd and sank down on an upright log that functioned as a barrier to the mobile home park. From his perch, he kept an eye on Jessica as she answered Morse’s questions.

After almost thirty minutes, he sprang up from his log when a deputy led Jessica to a waiting patrol car. They weren’t done with her. They were taking her to the station for questioning.

Even better. He could wait for her there.

He followed the deputy’s patrol car to the station, joining a caravan of other vehicles, including a few news vans. By the time he parked at the station and exited his Jeep, the deputies had already hustled Jessica inside the station.

Finn walked inside and leaned over the front desk. “I’m here to pick up Jessica Eller when she’s done.”

The deputy on duty answered, “Noted.”

While he waited for Jessica, Finn scanned through the news of the murder on his phone.

Jessica’s name hadn’t been reported yet, so some stories were not linking Ashley’s death to the current homicides.

None of the outlets had mentioned the cause of death yet.

Would the beating throw them off the scent of the Kitsap Killer?

Fairwood hadn’t had a murder in over five years.

How coincidental would it be for a couple of killers to snap at the same time—unless Ashley’s murder was personal.

How long before some enterprising journalist discovered that the Creekside Killer murdered Ashley’s roommate ten years ago?

How long before someone other than law enforcement would start piecing together the links between the murders?

Everyone still believed Avery Plank had murdered Tiffany Hunt, but he could blow that truth right out of the water.

Finn hadn’t even told the police what Plank had admitted to him and Jessica.

Would Plank backtrack from that admission?

He jerked his head up at the sound of footsteps in the back and half rose to his feet when he heard Jessica’s voice.

“That’s okay. I can get a ride back to Fairwood Flats.”

Finn strode toward the front desk to meet her. “You don’t need to do that.”

Raising her chin, her eyes widened. “Finn.”

A deputy, not Morse, stuck out his hand to Jessica. “Thank you again for your time, Jessica. If we have anything else, we’ll let you know. Call us with your new number when you get it, if we don’t release your phone first.”

“Will do, Deputy Harris.” Her pace picked up, and as she met Finn, she said, “Let’s get out of here.”

Harris pointed down the hallway from which they just emerged. “You can go out the back if you like. The press is still out front. By now, they probably know it’s you who found the body.”

Harris’s implied “again” hung in the air as Finn took Jessica’s arm. “Thanks, sir, we’ll do that.”

They did a 180 and made their way to the back door through the station.

Before they exited, Finn draped his jacket over her shoulders, tugging the hood over her blond hair, just in case some sharp-eyed newshound noticed them sneaking to his car.

They didn’t exchange one word until Finn was behind the wheel and driving away from the station.

Shifting his gaze to the side, he said, “Dinner? Glass of wine? Bottle of wine?”

“I could use some food.” She slumped in the passenger seat as he cruised past a news van with a reporter in front on a microphone. “This is already a circus, and they don’t know the half of it.”

“Neither do I.”

She shook the hood from her head. “How’d you know where to find me?”

“As soon as I found out about Ashley’s death and that you were the one who found her, I raced to the mobile home park.

The deputy on guard wouldn’t let me past the tape, but I saw Morse talking to you.

Then I saw him lead you to a patrol car and followed you to the station.

” He clasped her hand. “What happened? The Kitsap Killer didn’t lure you out there again, did he? ”

“No, although I’m not sure Morse or my boss Michael believe that.” She tapped on the window with her knuckle. “They’re probably not going to allow me to get my car just yet. Can we go to that restaurant near my hotel? Dockside Fish Grill?”

“Patio should be a private place to talk.”

“He did it. I know he killed Ashley.” She set her jaw. “I just don’t know why.”

“What brought you back to Ashley’s?” He hit the steering wheel with the heel of his hand. “You were going to confront her about posting as Queenie.”

“Of course. I wanted to know why she’d been pretending with me that she believed Tiffany’s case was closed while posting clues on a discussion board.”

“Maybe it was the stolen scarf. She could’ve heard about red fibers found at the crime scenes and started putting things together.” Finn swung a U-turn and parked a block down from the restaurant.

There were a few more diners outside this time, but they still nabbed a table on the edge of the patio overlooking the water.

As Finn sat across from Jessica, he asked, “Do you want to tell me what you saw? Don’t if it’s going to upset you.”

“I honestly didn’t see that much.” She downed half a glass of water before continuing.

“I knocked on her door a few times. Heard the TV and got an uneasy feeling. I went around to the front window and saw her lying on the floor in a pool of blood. I must’ve screamed because a couple of neighbors rushed outside.

One of them called 911. I didn’t even know what had happened to her until Morse told me someone hit her on the head with a heavy object.

They haven’t identified the murder weapon yet.

Nothing left there with blood or hair on it.

I didn’t even know if she was dead, although it sure looked like it.

” She punched a fist into her palm. “Why? Why target Ashley at this late date? She couldn’t tell the cops anything last time, and she knows nothing about the current murders. ”

“Where was Denny?”

The waitress interrupted them, and they ordered their food and drinks.

“I don’t know where Denny is. Thank God I didn’t find his body, too.” She chewed her bottom lip. “I hope he’s okay.”

“They might be looking at him for Ashley’s murder.

” Finn held up a finger as Jessica opened her mouth.

“Think about it. This is his second murdered girlfriend. What are the odds? The police don’t have anything to tie Ashley to the Kitsap Killer slayings.

She’s not a student, doesn’t work on campus, didn’t know the victims.”

“She was Tiffany’s roommate.”

“And Denny was her boyfriend. I’m just throwing him out there as a suspect. You know they’ll be looking at him.” He thanked the waitress for his beer and waved off the icy mug. “How are you doing? Take a sip of your wine. Maybe it’ll put some color back in your cheeks.”

She pressed a hand to her face. “Do I look that bad?”

“You look tired and frazzled and a little green around the gills. Did Morse and Deputy Harris grill you?”

She followed his advice and took more than a dainty sip from her glass.

“What do you think? They suspected that the Kitsap Killer had given me another exclusive, like I’m a freakin’ reporter instead of a forensics analyst. Michael, my boss, got in on the fun, too, calling the station while I was there for further questioning. ”

“Did you tell them about the Cold Case website and Ashley’s posts? The Hunter’s private chats?”

“I told them all of that.” She swept her glass over the table, and her white wine sloshed inside dangerously. “I think I lost them at Queenie.”