Page 6 of The First Hunt (The Final Hunt)

HOLLY

H olly was out of breath when she entered the Tribune ’s downtown lobby.

“Is she still here?” she asked Sarah, who hung up her desk phone as Holly came through the revolving door.

Sarah stood, motioning to a woman standing in the adjacent waiting room.

Holly assessed the woman wearing pleated acid-washed jeans and a matching jean jacket before approaching her.

As a crime reporter, she was used to getting bombarded with all kinds of tips on high profile cases, most of which turned out to be bogus.

The woman came toward Holly with eager eyes.

She looked a few years younger than Holly, which would make her the right age.

If Meg were alive, she would be twenty-three.

According to the woman who owned the group home, Meg had been only a few months older than her roommate.

She stood nearly a head shorter than Holly, probably just over five feet tall.

Her yellow-blond hair revealed an inch of dark brown roots.

“Holly?” she asked, gripping her purse with a white-knuckled grip.

Holly nodded. “You knew my sister?”

Meg’s roommate’s name was Callie, but Holly wanted the girl to say it first.

She swallowed. “I did. I’m Callie. We roomed together at the group home in 1979, the year before Meg... We were both seventeen. I’m so sorry about her…” She pressed her lips together and broke Holly’s gaze. “Um. Her death.”

Shortly after Meg died, Holly had visited Meg’s group home, and the woman who ran the group home had said Meg’s roommate was the only person close enough to Meg who might be able to offer information related to her murder.

“I tried to find you after Meg was killed,” Holly said. “But the group home said you ran away shortly after Meg did.”

A horn blared outside amid the downtown rush-hour traffic.

When Callie met Holly’s gaze, there was pain in her brown eyes. “I was in a dark place. I lived on the streets for a few years, alternating between here and Portland. Making money however I could. Then I got arrested for drug possession and some other shit.”

Holly studied the girl with compassion, knowing “some other shit” likely meant prostitution.

Although they looked nothing alike, when Holly looked at Callie, all she saw was her sister.

She felt a strange connection to the woman who’d known Meg and had to resist the urge to wrap the young woman in her arms.

“I ended up in a court-ordered rehab facility, which saved my life. I’ve been clean now for six months.

I think of Meg often.” Her voice faltered, and she cleared her throat.

“How unfair it was that she died so young.” She dropped her gaze to the floor.

“And how that could’ve been me.” She met Holly’s gaze with wide eyes.

“I didn’t know her murder was still unsolved until I saw your article.

And I might know something that could help. ”

“Hey, Holly.” Josh, one of the Tribune’s secondary crime reporters, gave her a nod as he passed through the lobby, heading for the street.

Holly flashed him a curt smile, hoping he’d keep moving. Josh was a known busybody who spent more time bumming leads off other crime reporters than finding his own. Seeing Callie, he slowed as if waiting for Holly to introduce him.

Holly turned her back to him and leaned toward Callie. “There’s a diner across the street.” She lowered her voice. “Why don’t we talk there?”

Callie nodded, and Holly waited for Josh to exit the revolving doors and turn left down the street before leading the way to the diner.

Right after they sat down at a booth, a middle-aged waitress appeared with an order pad and a pencil. “What can I get for you two?”

“Just coffee,” Callie said, sliding into her seat.

“Same.” Holly made sure the waitress was out of earshot before asking Callie what she was dying to know. “So, what is it you know that might be helpful?”

Callie placed her petite hands on the table and interlaced her fingers. “Well, Meg and I were tight, but she didn’t tell me everything. We both came from screwed-up homes and were both acting out because of it.”

Her words hit Holly like a dagger to the heart. I should’ve been a better sister.

“Anyway,” Callie wrapped her fingers around her mug. “Before Meg got pregnant, and during most of her pregnancy, she was hanging out with an older dude.”

“How much older?”

The waitress returned with two white mugs of steaming coffee.

“Thank you,” Holly said after she set them on the table.

Callie grabbed two sugar packets off the condiment tray and poured them into her coffee.

“Close to forty, I guess. So, like twice her age. At least.” Callie stirred her coffee with a spoon before taking a sip.

“I don’t know that he killed her. Meg died about six months after I last saw him.

But there was something about him that gave me the creeps. ”

Holly left her coffee untouched. This was the closest thing she’d gotten to a clue since Meg had been murdered. “Like what?”

Callie shrugged. “I can’t really explain it.

Just that something was off with him, ya know?

He used to pick her up from school sometimes before she dropped out.

He wore a wedding ring, and the few times I met him he would whip out a photo of his four-year-old son, like he was trying too hard to make me believe he was a normal guy.

Oh.” Callie paused to take another drink of coffee.

“And Meg told me he was the one who knocked her up.”

“What?” Meg had gotten pregnant from a forty-year-old man when she was seventeen?

“Yep. But he stopped showing up toward the end of her pregnancy, and I bet that’s why Meg put the baby up for adoption, not that she was in any shape to raise a baby at seventeen anyways.”

Holly took a sip of coffee, hoping the caffeine would help steady her whirling thoughts. Meg might’ve been killed by the father of her child. She took a deep breath.

“You okay?” Callie asked.

“Yes,” Holly lied, spilling coffee onto the table when she set down her mug. “Do you know his name?”

Callie’s gaze drifted out the window at the darkening downtown street. “I can’t remember exactly, but I’m pretty sure it was Bobby, or Lou, or maybe Denny.”

Holly frowned, hope draining from her lungs. “Those names don’t sound anything alike.” She studied the woman across from her. What if she’s making this all up? Holly had seen enough in her years of crime reporting to be careful about trusting people who claimed to have case-breaking information.

Callie covered her eyes with her hands. “I hate that I can’t remember, but I was using back then, and I didn’t know Meg was going to get killed.” Her voice broke. “I should’ve been a better friend.” When she lowered her hands, her eyes were brimming with tears.

Holly reached out and placed a hand on Callie’s. “None of us knew. You can’t blame yourself for that.” Holly choked back the emotion that swelled in her throat. Easier said than done. “You’re helping Meg now.”

Callie sniffed and wiped a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand.

“What did he look like, this guy?”

“Um. He was white. In good shape. Attractive, I guess, in a hot dad sort of way. Brown hair.”

“That’s good,” Holly coaxed. “Do you remember how tall he was?”

Callie shook her head. “I never saw him get out of the car.” Her eyes lit up. “Oh, but he had a mustache. I remember that.”

“What kind of car did he drive?”

Callie cast a sideways glance toward the window as if straining to remember. Holly’s stomach sank. How can any of this be reliable if she doesn’t even remember what kind of car they were in?

Callie met Holly’s gaze. “A white pickup.”

“Are you sure?”

Callie nodded. “I’m sure.”

“Do you remember the make?”

Callie pressed her chapped lips together. “No.”

“That’s okay.” Holly patted her hand. “This is really helpful. Thank you.”

Callie stared at the table. “I read your theory that Meg might’ve been killed by the Green River Killer. You don’t think that could’ve been him, do you?”

Holly gazed out the window at the cars driving by. “I think anything is possible.” Except, like Sally Hickman, Meg was last seen getting into a blue car, not a white pickup. Although, this mystery man could’ve had two vehicles, Holly supposed. Or bought a new car before he—

A bell chimed as the diner door opened. Holly looked toward the sound, surprised to see her fiancé striding toward them, wearing a scowl.

“Jared,” she said when he approached their booth. “What are you doing here?”

He put his hands on his hips, ignoring Callie sitting across from her. “I could ask you the same thing. I went to your house, and when you weren’t there, I went to the Tribune . Sarah told me she saw you go across the street. Do you even know what time it is?”

“Jared, this is Callie.” Holly motioned to the woman across the table. “She knew Meg. And the father of Meg’s child. Possibly even her killer.”

Holly expected Jared to be amazed at this news like she’d been. Instead, his scowl deepened. He shot Callie a wary glance before turning back to Holly.

“Sweetheart, no offense, but if this woman had pertinent information related to your sister’s murder, she would’ve come forward five years ago. I warned you this kind of thing might happen after your article came out, remember?”

Holly remembered. “But she was Meg’s roommate. I tried tracking her down before—”

“Honey.” The hardness in Jared’s expression eased.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re not a detective.

You need to give it a rest. If the Green River Killer Task Force can’t solve Meg’s murder, then neither can you.

Meg’s murder was likely a random act of violence from someone she didn’t know. If this woman—”

“Her name’s Callie,” Holly said.

Jared pursed his lips. “Callie. If what she knows is relevant then she should be telling Andy, the detective assigned to Meg’s case, not you.” He looked at his watch. “If we leave now, I can take you home to get changed and we might still make our reservation.”

Holly’s mouth fell open at how heartless Jared was being. Did he really think their dinner was more important than solving her sister’s murder?

Holly dug a hand into her purse. Jared was right about one thing.

Holly pulled out a business card and extended it to Callie.

“You need to tell all of this to the detective who’s handling Meg’s case.

His name is Andy Harris, and he works at King County Major Crimes.

His office is on the second floor of the courthouse, less than a mile from here.

You could also describe this man Meg was seeing to their sketch artist. Do you want me to go with you? ”

Jared groaned. “Holly, what are you doing? We have to go. You can’t go to Vito’s like that.” He motioned to Holly’s sweatshirt.

Holly ignored him and locked eyes with Callie. “I’d be more than happy to if you don’t want to go alone.”

Callie shook her head. “No, that’s okay.”

“Are you sure?” Holly asked.

Callie nodded.

“But you’ll still go see him, right?”

Jared huffed, but Holly didn’t care. This was too important. If her fiancé couldn’t see that, then she shouldn’t be marrying him.

“Yes. I’ll go.” Callie flipped the card over in her hand. “I promise.”

“It’s our anniversary.” Jared held his arm out toward Holly. “Let’s go.”

Holly shot her fiancé an icy glare . “Just a second,” she barked, surprised at the bite in her voice.

Holly grabbed a napkin off the table and used a pen from her purse to write down her phone number. “If you think of anything else, call me.” She slid the napkin toward Callie. “Day or night.”

“I will.” Callie lifted the napkin before putting it into her jacket pocket.

“Is there anything else you remember about him?” Holly asked, ignoring Jared’s impatient stare.

Callie gazed into her coffee. “No.”

“Thank you,” Holly said. “For finding me. And I mean it, please call me if you think of anything else, no matter how small.”

“I will,” Callie said as Holly left a five-dollar bill on the table for their coffees.

Holly didn’t want to leave. Sitting across from Callie was the closest she’d felt to Meg since she died. But Callie had already told her what she knew. Holly hoped that the sooner she left, the sooner Callie would go see Andy. Reluctantly, Holly slid to the edge of the booth.

She started after Jared, who was already moving toward the door, when Callie’s small hand wrapped around Holly’s wrist.

“Wait,” Callie said. “There’s one more thing.”

Holly stopped and turned.

“Meg told me that before they took her baby away from her at the hospital, she asked that his adoptive parents name him Tanner.”