Page 29 of The Creekside Murder (Pacific Northwest Forensics #1)
She made her next call to the sheriff’s station.
When the deputy at the front desk answered, Jessica identified herself and asked if she could retrieve her car from in front of the crime scene at Fairwood Flats Mobile Home Park.
When he gave her the okay, she traipsed down to the front desk to call a taxi.
She couldn’t even order a car without her cell phone.
She should’ve asked that deputy if she could get her phone, too.
Fifteen minutes later on the taxi ride to Ashley’s mobile home, the driver twisted in his seat as he pulled out of the hotel parking lot. “You heard about that murder out there.”
“Yeah, terrible.” Jessica clapped her sunglasses on her face and turned her head to stare out the window. She should follow Denny’s lead and try to cover up so people wouldn’t recognize her. Luckily, this driver just seemed to be sharing gossip with a fare.
When they arrived, she had the driver drop her off at the entrance to the mobile home park. She didn’t want him dropping her off in front of a mobile home ringed with crime scene tape.
The deputies hadn’t removed the yellow tape yet, but none of it circled her car. She crept up to the driver’s-side door, her head turned away from Ashley’s place.
As she grabbed the door handle, a woman across the way looked up from her gardening and gave Jessica a hard stare.
Jessica yanked open her door, dropped onto the seat and cranked on the engine.
Denny had been right—she needed to leave this town.
As soon as Deputy Morse gave her the go-ahead, she was out of here.
She’d lost her sister, but she had a brother.
She needed to let Tiffany go and concentrate on forging a new relationship with David.
Tiffany would’ve approved. Being the oldest sister, Tiffany had missed Wavy Davy more than Jessica had.
Jessica had just been about three years old when child services took David away from Mom.
Tiffany had been twelve, already too old for her years—a childhood lost.
Jessica drove straight to the sheriff’s station from the mobile home park. Even though her forensics services were no longer needed or wanted on the case, she still had business to conduct.
She sailed through the front doors of the station like the frequent flyer she’d become. The deputy at the front desk, asking if she needed help, sounded like the same one who’d answered the phone earlier.
“I’m Jessica Eller. Detective Morse confiscated my cell phone for evidence, and he indicated yesterday that I might be able to pick it up today. Do you know if it’s ready?”
The deputy picked up the phone. “Let me check with Deputy Lorman. He’s in charge of that evidence from that case.”
Lorman must’ve picked up because the front desk deputy started explaining the who, what, when to someone on the other line. He eyed Jessica as he nodded. “I see. Uh-huh. Yeah, I’ll let her know.”
Jessica raised her eyebrows when the deputy ended the call.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Eller. He’s not ready to release your phone yet. Maybe later this afternoon or tomorrow.”
“Ugh.” She sawed her bottom lip with her teeth.
Should she go through the trouble of getting a pay-as-you-go phone or not?
She could touch base with David via email before she left, just to confirm.
And she could always call Finn from the hotel phone.
Her car had a GPS for the drive down to Kingston, not that she didn’t know the way to Kingston, and she could plug the restaurant into her GPS.
“I’ll get it tomorrow.” She pointed to the phone. “Is Deputy Lorman available or Detective Morse? I have some information about the King homicide.”
“They’re both busy right now, out in the field. Unless you know who did it, you can probably give them a call and leave a voicemail. They both check in regularly.”
“I’ll do that.” Denny was right. The investigation team probably wouldn’t put much stock in anything Denny had to say—until they could get their hands on him to question him.
She spent the rest of the afternoon on errands and finishing up her work on Morgan’s case, if Michael would accept it. Before she got ready for her dinner with David, she left Detective Morse a voicemail, left another message for Finn, who hadn’t picked up, and sent an email to David to confirm.
When she emerged from the shower, the only one who had bothered to respond was her brother. All set.
She dressed casually in a pair of jeans, a green blouse, a caramel-colored blazer and low-heeled boots to match.
She’d discovered a spot of ketchup on the green sweater she told David she’d be wearing, but she didn’t bother to update him.
He said he’d be wearing glasses and a gray jacket.
She’d find him. Would she know him anywhere?
She set the GPS in her car for Kingston and took off, her palms a little sweaty on the wheel. Was David as nervous as she was? The thirty-five-minute drive took her away from the coast and through a long stretch of greenery. When she passed the casino, she knew she was close.
Once she reached the town of Kingston, she spotted the red clapboard in front of the Salty Girls restaurant. Jessica pulled into the small parking lot on the side of the building and flipped down the visor to freshen her lipstick.
She walked into the restaurant and craned her neck to scan for any single guys sitting at a table. A man in glasses with brown hair half rose from his chair and lifted his hand.
A grin stretched Jessica’s mouth as she approached her brother’s table. When she reached it, he stood up fully and extended his hand and then dropped it when she moved in for a hug.
They gave each other one of those awkward one-armed clasps, and she laughed self-consciously. “David, finally. It’s good to finally meet you.”
“You, too. It’s been a long time.” He gestured to the seat across from him.
As Jessica sat down, she tilted her head. “Have we met before?”
* * *
F INN TRIED J ESSICA ’ S hotel number one more time, a kernel of unease lodged in his throat. He didn’t like the idea of her meeting a stranger, for all intents and purposes, a stranger in another town with no cell phone.
Kingston wasn’t that far, and she’d told him the name of the restaurant. He could always do a reconnaissance mission to spy on her and her brother. She’d be angry if she spotted him, though.
He blew out a long breath. He’d finished all his grading yesterday, and the online classes had gone better than expected. The young women in his class were relieved to be able to stay at home.
He’d get some dinner, do some research for his book and wait for Jessica to give him the report on her brother. He wanted her to leave Fairwood for now, but this time he didn’t plan to let her disappear from his life. He hoped she felt the same way. He thought she did.
As he opened his fridge door to investigate what he could make for dinner, his cell phone rang. Spinning the phone around on the counter, he saw a number from the Washington State Patrol on the display. He grabbed it and tapped to answer. “Hello?
“Is this Finn Karlsson?”
“Who wants to know?”
“Sorry. This is Michael Wilder from the Washington State Patrol Forensics Division. I’m Jessica Eller’s boss.”
“Yeah, I know who you are. Are you trying to reach Jessica?”
“I am, yeah. It’s important. When Deputy Lorman took her phone, she gave me your number.”
“She went out to dinner.”
Wilder swore under his breath. “I really need to talk to her. It’s…well, it’s her safety at stake here.”
Finn had been hunched over the counter, but Wilder’s words had him snapping to attention. “I know where she is. I can get to her. What’s going on?”
“She probably told you how she contaminated the DNA evidence on that red fiber, right?”
“Yeah, yeah. She told me all about it. Felt incredibly stupid, too.”
“Well, it wasn’t her fault. She didn’t contaminate the sample.”
Finn’s heart pounded in his chest. “What do you mean? That wasn’t her DNA from the sample?”
“The forensics techs jumped the gun. It was just a trace, a sample, and it partially matched right away to Tiffany Hunt’s sample on file. The techs made an assumption before running additional tests on the sample. Once they ran further tests, they discovered it couldn’t be Jessica’s DNA.”
Finn tried to swallow, his throat sandpaper. “Why couldn’t it be a match?”
“Oh, it’s still a partial match, but the DNA can’t belong to Jessica because it belongs to a male. The trace DNA from the red fiber belongs to a male relative of Jessica’s—like a brother.”