“Is that where she’s from?” Jarrett asked.
Alison gave him a look. “You just assume that because her name is Maria?” She snorted. “No, she’s on some kind of extended mission trip with her church.”
Jarrett nodded, feeling properly chastised. He had dozens of questions he wanted to ask about Alison and Maria’s friendship, considering what little he knew of the two of them seemed to indicate they were polar opposites of each other, but he kept to the topic at hand. Their clock was slowly ticking down, and he wanted answers.
“Anything you can tell us about Katie?”
“What do you want to know?”
Jarrett thought for a minute. “Any substance abuse issues you know of? Alcohol? Drugs?” His eyes immediately drifted to the bong.
“No.” Alison’s voice was firm. “That’s mine.” She was looking at the bong, too. “Katie didn’t even drink.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m a bartender,” she retorted. “Yes, I’m sure.”
“A bartender?” He thought about what she’d told them when she first answered the door. “And you work mornings?”
“No, I work weekends bartending. I have two jobs.”
Jarrett nodded. “Can you tell me how Katie was the last time you saw her? Any signs of depression or anything?”
“Katie?” She looked bewildered. “She was like the least depressed person I knew.”
“Any enemies? People she’d argued with recently?”
Alison let out a harsh laugh. “Katie? Enemies? Uh, no.”
Jarrett felt a surge of disappointment. His questions weren’t digging up anything. In fact, their conversation was going nowhere fast. Which meant his investigation was, too.
“The only time I ever heard her argue was with someone on the phone,” Alison said. “That was literally it. Everyone liked her. She was friendly, easygoing. Basically the complete opposite of me.”
Jarrett almost chuckled. Alison did strike him as a little bit of a hard ass, but given the people she worked with, it was probably a necessity. He imagined being a female bartender had its share of potential complications.
And he knew what Alison said about Katie was true. She had been a friendly, easygoing person. Hell, it was the thing that had attracted him to her in the first place. They didn’t have much in common, but they hadn’t needed it for the brief relationship they’d had. Because she was just easy to get along with. But they both realized soon enough that neither of them was committed to anything more than having a good time. And that wasn’t enough to dedicate the energy required to make a long-distance relationship work.
Jarrett stole a quick glance at the time. He calculated they probably had about ten minutes left. “Is there any chance we could take a peek at her room?”
Alison’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“We won’t take anything,” he said, avoiding her question.
For the first time, Alison looked a little hesitant. A little…worried. “Do you think…something happened to her?”
“Something happened to her?” Jarrett repeated.
“Like it wasn’t an accident?”
He decided to be honest. “I don’t know, but that’s sort of what we’re trying to find out.”
“You’re a reporter, though,” Alison said with a frown. “Not a cop. And you said you were just doing a story on her.”
Jarrett could hear the accusation in her voice, and he knew he’d need to get her on his side if he had any hope of trying to dig up any more information there.
“I am doing a story,” he said patiently. “I want to know Katie’s story, specifically. Who she was, where she wanted to go. And what ultimately happened to her that night.”
Alison stared at him for a minute, her features flickering with a range of emotions. “You won’t touch anything?”
He nodded. “We won’t take anything.”
Alison pointed. “Her room is the last one on the right. Just past the bathroom.”
Jarrett stood up, then looked at Jess. She looked a little uncertain but she stood up, too.
“Hey,” Alison said.
Jarrett paused.
“Why aren’t the police investigating? If you think there’s something funny about what happened to her?”
It was a good question.
“They are.” Jess spoke up. “But their process is a little different. I’m sure they’re waiting on forensics to see if there even is a case.”
Alison breathed deeply and nodded.
“We can work a different angle,” Jess told her. “And if we find things that need looking into, we can pass that information on to the authorities.”
She was saying all of the right things, Jarrett thought with a surge of pride as they made their way out of the living room and toward Katie’s room. In that moment, he knew he’d made the right decision to include her in their visit.
She was an asset, not a liability.
In more ways than one.
27
Tuesday, July 3
9:45 am
It felt weird being in Katie Simmons’s room.
Jessica was used to securing crime scenes, directing traffic, stopping cars for moving violations. She had zero experience with what she was doing now: poking around the belongings of someone recently deceased, trying to find information that might provide clues as to what could have happened to her that fateful night after Bill Lewis’s party.
Jessica’s eyes moved around the room, taking everything in. She didn’t know how long Katie had lived in the house, but judging from the sheer amount of stuff visible, it looked like a while. The queen bed had been hastily made, the black-and-white floral comforter at a drunken angle, the pillow shams overlapping each other at the head of the bed. The top of the dresser held a colorful collection of half-burned candles, and the various scents permeated the small space. A pile of dirty clothes sat in a plastic laundry basket at the foot of the bed, and her desk was littered with papers and opened mail.
Jessica looked to Jarrett. He was looking at the photos, suspended by tiny clothespins and attached to fairy lights adorning one long wall.
Jessica moved closer to him and peered at the pictures. She hadn’t gotten a great look at the woman on the banks of the river, but she recognized the long brown hair and slender body.
She swallowed. The woman in the pictures was beautiful—warm, friendly smile, inquisitive eyes. Jess immediately remembered that Jarrett had a past with her, and despite the prick of jealousy she felt, she also wondered how seeing the pictures of someone he’d been involved with, for however brief of a time, was now affecting him.
A quick glance in his direction didn’t reveal much. His expression was one of open curiosity as he studied each image.
“What are you looking for?” Jess asked in a low voice. Alison hadn’t followed them into the room, but she still kept her volume down.
“I have no idea,” he admitted. He glanced away from the pictures, his gaze landing on the desk. He crossed the room and started thumbing through the papers stacked on top.
“I don’t know that we should be touching things,” Jess said.
“Why? It’s not a crime scene.”
She frowned. “You told Alison you wouldn’t touch anything.”
“No.” He smiled. “I told her I wouldn’t take anything. Big difference.”
Jessica tried to remember the exact words he’d used but failed. She had no doubt he was right, though. He seemed to be a master of communication, and not just in how he managed to get people to tell him things.
“I wonder if she has family,” Jess commented. “Wouldn’t they have come here by now? Cleaned out her room or something?”
“Great question,” Jarrett said.
“Do you know if she does? Since you dated her, I mean?”
He looked up with surprise and she swallowed self-consciously.
“We weren’t serious,” he said simply. “I didn’t know anything about her family.�
�
Jess managed a small nod. The question had been meant as a simple one, and had definitely been about Katie, but the way it had come out made it sound like she was some jealous new girlfriend, trolling for information about Jarrett’s ex.
If he thought this, though, he didn’t let on. He just kept thumbing through the papers on Katie’s desk.
“What is all that?” Jess joined him at the desk. “Just old mail?”
“Mostly,” he said. “Some notes, too. Looks like it’s all work-related, though. Nothing personal.”
He sounded disappointed.
Jess didn’t blame him.
She was back to thinking that they were wasting their time looking into Katie’s death. And she was also worried that the more time she spent on it, the more of a liability it might become if Kellan found out what she’d been doing on her vacation.
As much as she was dissatisfied with the current iteration of her job, the last thing she wanted was to be involved with something that might get her a reprimand or result in disciplinary action.
Because she was investigating—plain and simple.
There was no other way to look at it.
She bit back a sigh. This was not how she’d intended to spend her days off. She’d wanted a week to take a step back, both literally and figuratively. She’d been looking forward to a week of no police work, a week to choose a few days to head home and see her mom, to think about the direction her life had taken and now, after four years as a police officer, to determine if this was truly what she wanted to do.
Finding Katie Simmons’s body had thrown her. She wouldn’t deny that. And she’d practically jumped at the opportunity to do a little digging, to see if she could find some important clue that would break open the case and help the police figure out just what the hell had happened to her.
It had been a rash decision, of course. And she couldn’t discount the role Jarrett had played in convincing her. He hadn’t pressured her or anything, but she’d practically leaped at the chance to spend time with the good-looking reporter who was suddenly paying attention to her.
And boy, had she spent time with him…and then some. She’d slept with him.
She should have given more thought to it. To everything. Really thought through the implications of getting involved when it wasn’t her job to do so. And the implications of getting involved physically. Maybe even romantically.
But she hadn’t.
And even worse, she’d continued with the case, going with Jarrett to Duluth and then here, to Katie Simmons’s house.
There was nothing to find. They’d followed up on three different potential leads and had come away completely empty-handed.
The only thing she was accomplishing was jeopardizing her future in law enforcement…and potentially her heart. She might not be sure she wanted to continue with her career, but she damn sure didn’t want anyone else to decide that for her.
She took a deep breath. “I think we should go.”
Jarrett didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at her. He had a pad of paper in his hands, similar to the yellow pad he usually carried when he was working on a story. But this one was full-size, a legal pad that he was now thumbing through.
“Did you hear me?” Jessica said.
He glanced up.
“I think we should go.”
“Not yet,” he said slowly.
She stared at him. “Why not?”
He turned the pad of paper around to show her.
All Jessica could see were a couple of written lines of text. And lots of eraser marks. “What is that?”
“A resignation letter she started,” Jarrett said. “Look.”
Jessica leaned closer.
Please accept this letter as official notice of my resignation. I am providing two weeks’ notice, as required.
Everything underneath had been erased. By the looks of it, multiple times. Jessica squinted, trying to make out what words had been there before, but it was fruitless.
“So she was planning to quit her job,” Jessica said. “Why is that important? People leave jobs all the time.” She immediately thought of her own plight.
“True,” Jarrett said. “But she died after a work party. And Alison told us she’d overheard her arguing with someone on the phone. Maybe it was a coworker. Or her boss.” His voice was like steel.
Jess shook her head, frowning. “That’s quite a reach. Maybe she went to the party because she knew it was going to be one of the last ones she’d be attending since she was planning on quitting. And she could have been arguing with anyone on the phone. Her mother. Her new boyfriend. Her insurance agent.”
“Or her coworker or boss,” he repeated. “It’s not that big of a stretch.”
Jessica bit her lip. She was probably one of the precious few who always kept her mouth shut when it came to disagreeing with the people she worked with, so desperate had she been to climb the ladder and move up the ranks.
“I think it’s worth checking out,” Jarrett announced.
“Her job?”
He nodded and pulled his phone out. He took a picture of the letter before setting the pad of paper back down on the desk.
And then he left.
Jessica had no choice but to march out of Katie’s room after him.
Alison was in the living room, shrugging into a military-style jacket. She’d already donned black lace-up work boots, and Jessica couldn’t think of a worse outfit to wear on a humid summer day.
“You guys done?” she asked. “Perfect timing. I need to head out.”
“Yes, thank you,” Jarrett said. He fixed her with one of his easy smiles. “One more quick question for you and then we’ll be on our way.”
Alison eyed him warily but waited for him to continue.
“Do you know if Katie had any friends at work?”
“Friends?” Alison repeated.
“Yeah, people she talked to, hung out with?”
“Not really,” Alison said. “She mentioned Bill a couple of times, but that was just in passing. I think he was a boss or something? And then I think she talked about a guy named Chance.”
“Chance?”
Jessica could almost hear the satisfaction in Jarrett’s voice when he repeated the name.
“Alright,” he said, rubbing his hands together and looking expectantly at Jessica. “I think we’re done here.”
“Did you find anything?” Alison asked, a note of hope in her voice.
“I’m honestly not sure,” Jarrett said. “But if and when we do find something that pans out, you’ll be one of the first to know. I promise.”
Alison looked at him and nodded. “Thanks. I know we weren’t close, but…she’s dead. And I’d like to know why.”
Jarrett’s jaw stiffened. “I’d like to know, too.” His eyes drifted to Jessica. “And we’re going to keep looking until we find something.”
28
Tuesday, July 3
10:00 am
Jarrett pulled to the side of the road three minutes after leaving the house Katie had shared with Alison.
“What are you doing?” Jessica asked.
He knew she wasn’t going to be on board.
He could tell in the house that he was losing her. That she didn’t think there was anything worth investigating.
But he disagreed.
There was something there. He knew it.
And no, the evidence didn’t necessarily point to anything. That was probably why Nate and the rest of AFPD weren’t actively investigating. A quick phone call to his friend earlier that morning had confirmed this. They had nothing to go on and no reason to suspect foul play. And with other cases and work piling up, Kellan had been happy to put it on the back burner while they waited for autopsy results.
Sure, they’d done some precursory investigating, but nothing more than what was considered standard operating procedure.
Besides, no one on the force had a vested interest in digging into Katie�
�s case. They hadn’t known her.
Jarrett had.
And he wanted a story. Her story.
“Did you hear me?” Jessica’s voice rang out again.
He looked at her.
“What are we doing?” She’d changed phrasing this time, he noticed.
“Thinking.”
“You can’t think and drive at the same time?”
He ignored the barbed comment. “I think talking to Chance might be important.”
He watched her closely. Doubt clouded her eyes, and her jaw began to twitch. “I don’t,” she finally said.
Shit. He knew it.
“Look, I know you want to figure out what happened to her, but I think we’re wasting our time,” she told him.
He hated the words she was speaking but his heart was still thrilled at her use of the word ‘we.’
“There is zero evidence that she was killed. Everything points to it being an accident. You’ve covered and read enough stories around here to know this stuff happens all the time. How many drowning deaths do we see in this state every year? We have more miles of shoreline than California, Hawaii and Florida combined. And water can be unpredictable.”
He wasn’t back in fifth grade geography. He knew this, just as surely as he knew that drowning deaths always spiked in the warmer months.
“There were no witnesses, no obvious signs of trauma,” Jess continued. “And no reports of domestic abuse or substance abuse issues.”
Jarrett shook his head. “I won’t dispute the last two things you said. But the first two? The no witnesses and no signs of trauma? Those could just as easily point to the fact that it was intentional.”
She frowned. “How?”
“No witnesses means someone could have purposely chosen that event, that time to kill her. Why would she have walked home? She had her car there—you told me that yourself.”
Jessica sighed, and he could read the impatience building inside of her. “She didn’t drive home because she had too much to dr—”
“She didn’t drink.” His tone was adamant. “Alison told us that.”
“Alison barely knew her,” Jess countered. “They’d been roommates for two months. Just because she’s a part-time bartender doesn’t mean she has total authority over determining someone’s drinking habits.”
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