Dire Straits

by Melissa Pearl

  Jarrett’s own impatience was growing. “And no signs of physical trauma only means that they weren’t visible, right?”

  Jess gave a slight nod.

  “So what if someone incapacitated her another way?”

  “With drugs?”

  “Maybe. But there are other ways. Suffocating her, knocking her out.”

  “Those would show up in the autopsy.”

  “Right. Whenever the hell that finally comes back. At which point the person responsible has plenty of time to secure alibis. Hide evidence. Hell, they could even leave town.”

  Jess just stared at him.

  He drummed the steering wheel in frustration.

  He didn’t want to admit that she was right. He should just give up. He’d been doing this long enough to know that some stories just didn’t pan out. It was par for the course. Best to just cut his losses and move on.

  But the letter they’d found in Katie’s room felt important, especially coupled with what Alison had told him about the phone conversation she’d overheard. Bill’s reaction to their visit couldn’t be discounted, either.

  Maybe it was just work issues rearing their ugly heads. But what if it was something more?

  They had a name. Chance.

  Couldn’t they just take a chance, so to speak? Get ahold of this guy and see if he had anything to share? Maybe he had been the one Katie was arguing with. There was no way of knowing unless they talked to him.

  He blinked.

  They.

  It was probably the wrong choice of words.

  Jess was already gone, mentally checked out.

  But he couldn’t be.

  He needed this story. Needed something to focus on, something that made him feel like he wasn’t just spinning his wheels.

  Something that would lull him into thinking he was staying in Aspen Falls because he wanted to.

  Not because he had to.

  29

  Tuesday, July 3

  10:15 am

  Jessica stared at her phone.

  She knew she shouldn’t be doing it. She should have just sat there woodenly in the passenger seat and forced Jarrett to drive her home.

  But something had compelled her to grab her phone and open her browser. Search a website.

  And find a name.

  The name Alison had mentioned.

  Chance Cooper.

  His name was listed in the PCA’s directory. A field technician, like Katie.

  Whatever the hell that meant.

  She sighed and shot a glance in Jarrett’s direction.

  He’d pulled back onto the road, and they were nearing the intersection where they would hop back on the highway heading south, toward Aspen Falls.

  And away from the story.

  Jessica hadn’t changed her mind. She’d come to the conclusion that they were chasing a whole lot of nothing, and she still felt that way.

  But she could sense how this was affecting the man sitting next to her. She didn’t know why he was so invested, but he was.

  She swallowed. Maybe he’d been closer to Katie Simmons than she realized, than even he was willing to admit to himself. It made sense. He’d had a relationship with her, and maybe her death was affecting him more than he even knew.

  Jess didn’t like how those thoughts made her feel, but it was a possibility. Actually, it was probably the likeliest explanation.

  Whatever the reason, he had latched on to tracking down every possible lead.

  Despite what she thought about his belief that they’d find more clues from her coworkers, the fact was that he believed it. They were there in Sauk Rapids. The PCA office was only ten minutes away.

  And a Chance Cooper worked there.

  She could say nothing, knowing Jarrett would absolutely find the time to turn around and come back so that he could chat with this guy.

  And he would do it without her.

  It shouldn’t matter, she thought, growing frustrated. None of this should matter to her.

  She should just extricate herself now, immediately, and head back to her normal, safe life.

  The one where nothing ever happened.

  The one where she literally felt as though she were sitting in a stagnant pond as life passed her by.

  The one where she was more concerned with doing what she thought she should do than what she wanted to do.

  She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath.

  “There’s a Chance Cooper listed on the PCA website,” she said.

  She opened her eyes and saw that Jarrett was staring at her. They were sitting at a red light, waiting to turn on to the highway.

  “I know.”

  She pursed her lips. “So we should go talk to him.”

  “Why?” His tone was blunt.

  “To see what he knows.”

  “I thought it wasn’t worth it.”

  She could hear the anger in his voice.

  “Look, I’m saying we should go,” she snapped. “Isn’t that what you want?”

  “It is.” He glanced back at the light. “I just want to make sure that’s what you want, too.”

  The question felt loaded, like something Jess should give more thought to. But she didn’t.

  “Let’s go,” she told him.

  He gave a slight nod and when the light turned green, he pulled onto the highway, heading toward the PCA office instead of back home.

  It was an easy building to find, especially since there were signs on the highway indicating where it was located. They drove in what Jess could only describe as an uneasy silence.

  She hated it.

  The PCA was a single-story brick building tucked into an industrial park. A machine shop sat opposite the building, and next door was a medical device manufacturer. There seemed to be dozens of those in central Minnesota, Jess thought.

  Jarrett got out of the car and Jess followed suit, squinting into the late morning sunshine as she hurried to catch up with him.

  He pulled the glass door to the building open, waiting for Jess to step inside before he entered. The office was pleasantly cool, a welcome reprieve from the heat and humidity building outside.

  A woman with black curly hair and thick black glasses gave them a frosty smile. “Can I help you?” she asked. She was seated on a stool behind a long counter that looked as though it served as a reception area. Behind her was a closed door, presumably that led to more offices.

  “We’re looking for Chance Cooper,” Jarrett said, fixing the woman with his warm smile.

  “He’s out in the field.” The woman was brisk, no-nonsense. “Probably won’t be back in the office until after the holiday.”

  Jarrett took this information in stride. He reached for his wallet and dug out a business card. He handed it to the woman. “Any chance you could see that he gets that?”

  The woman frowned. “The Aspen Falls Daily? You’re a reporter?”

  Jarrett nodded, still smiling.

  “What on earth do you need to talk to Chance about?”

  Jarrett didn’t get a chance to respond because the door behind the receptionist opened.

  And Bill Lewis stepped into the room.

  His surprise was immediate.

  Jess watched as his eyes widened and his back stiffened. He glanced at her and quickly composed himself.

  The receptionist looked at Bill. “These folks are here from the paper. Down in Aspen Falls. For Chance.”

  Bill ignored her. “Come on back,” he said to Jarrett.

  Jess hesitated. Why did he want to talk to them now, especially considering how their last interaction with him had gone?

  But Jarrett apparently had no such qualms. He strode behind the desk area and only glanced back when he noticed Jess hadn’t moved. He gave her a look.

  Inwardly, she sighed. What choice did she have but to follow him?

  Bill took them through a maze of desks, nearly all of them empty, and into a small office at the back of the building. It was what
Jessica thought every government office looked like: drab and uninspired. White walls, linoleum flooring. Government-issued office furniture. The only personal touches in the room were a Vikings wall calendar and a few pictures of his family. Jess recognized the woman they’d seen gardening in his front yard, along with the little boy who’d come outside crying.

  Bill leaned against his desk and folded his arms. “What do you want?” He wasn’t playing games.

  Jarrett wasn’t, either, because he said quickly, without any hesitation, “We’re looking into who killed Katie Simmons.”

  “Why the hell do you think someone killed her?”

  “Because the other explanation doesn’t make sense.”

  A muscle in Bill’s temple pulsed. “You are grasping at straws. Nothing happened to her except a tragic accident. That’s it.”

  Jarrett shoved his hands in his pockets. “How can you be so sure? Did you see what happened to her?” He paused, his eyes on Bill. “Maybe you watched her walk down to the river? Maybe you helped her out along the way…”

  Bill jerked up straight, almost as if someone had poked him with a cattle prod. “How dare you?” he seethed.

  “How dare I what?”

  “How dare you suggest I had something to do with her death!”

  “Did you?” Jarrett asked.

  Jess watched as Bill tried to keep his temper under control.

  And failed.

  “No! I had no reason to hurt her. No reason to want her dead!”

  “No?” Jarrett, for his part, was staying remarkably calm. “None at all?”

  Bill shook his head vehemently.

  “Then why did you throw us off your property last week?”

  For a second, Bill looked off-guard. He glanced to the floor and when he looked back at Jarrett, his eyes were moist. He sucked in a ragged breath. “Look, I feel responsible, alright?”

  Jess frowned. Why would he feel responsible? Unless…

  “I reacted badly last week because I feel a horrible amount of guilt over what happened to her. She disappeared after leaving my party. And she died.” His voice cracked. “I’m going to live with that for the rest of my life. Wondering if there was something I could have done to prevent her from leaving. If there was something I could have done that might have kept her alive.”

  Jess felt a flicker of sympathy for him. She imagined she would feel the same way if she were in his shoes.

  Jarrett was watching Bill, his expression unreadable.

  “That’s a nice story,” he finally said. “But I don’t believe you.”

  Jessica’s eyebrows shot up.

  Bill glared at him. “I don’t care if you believe me. But it’s the truth.”

  “Why was she giving her notice?”

  Bill cocked his head. “What?”

  “She was giving her notice,” Jarrett repeated. “Why?”

  Bill cleared his throat. “She wanted to go back to school. Get her master’s degree. Her work schedule wouldn’t jibe with that so she decided to quit.”

  Jess bit her lip. The explanation Bill was giving made sense. And his behavior, his defensiveness, made sense, too. They’d barged onto his property last week and then into his place of employment, looking for answers to questions that probably didn’t even need to be asked.

  Jess didn’t think she’d react any differently if she’d been in his position, with strangers insinuating and then flat-out accusing him of somehow being involved in an employee’s death. Especially because it had happened on his property. On his watch.

  “I have a meeting,” Bill said.

  “I have more questions,” Jarrett countered.

  Bill’s lips were thin, his eyes narrowed. “Guess you’ll have to find your answers somewhere else. I’ve told you what I know. I suggest you leave.”

  “Otherwise you’ll call the cops?”

  Bill’s gaze drifted to Jessica and she shivered. His eyes were like ice. “Not the cops,” he said, his eyes raking over her, making it obvious that he remembered just who she said she was. “My cops.”

  Jarrett spun on his heel and left the office without another word.

  Once outside, he strode to his car, leaving Jess practically running to keep up. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that he was livid.

  He got in the car and slammed the door shut. He made no move to turn on the engine, and the heat was building to an almost intolerable level as they sat in silence.

  Jess finally spoke. “Now what?”

  Jarrett shook his head and sighed. “I don’t know. Talk to Chance, I guess. And keep digging.”

  She pressed her lips together, determined to not say what was on her mind.

  That this was another dead end.

  “He’s not telling us something,” Jarrett said. His eyes locked on hers and she could see the fierce determination in them. “And I’m going to find out just what it is. No matter what I have to do.”

  Jess swallowed.

  She knew, could tell by the sound of his voice and the look in his eyes, that he was ready to move heaven and earth to get the information he thought was out there.

  But she wasn’t.

  She was done.

  Because this last interview, this last lead, had sealed the deal for her.

  There was nothing to find.

  Bill had told them, in no uncertain terms, that he hadn’t been responsible.

  And the evidence they had—that Katie had been walking alone by the river and had drowned—supported his claim.

  There was nothing else to find.

  30

  Wednesday, July 4

  9:30 pm

  Jarrett sucked down the last of his beer. Outside, the sky wasn’t quite dark enough for the city fireworks, but people were setting off their own, the resounding booms rattling the windowsills in his mother’s home.

  He crumpled the can and set it down on the coffee table, next to the other three crushed ones.

  It had been a shitty day.

  Happy Fourth, he thought bitterly.

  His visit to PCA the day before had been a total bust. He knew it, and Jess knew it.

  And the ride home had been almost unbearable.

  Because Jess was done.

  She didn’t tell him but he could feel it, even more so than when he’d stopped by earlier that morning to ask her to come along.

  She believed Bill Lewis.

  And she didn’t believe Jarrett.

  It stung a little, knowing this. He’d wanted her help, liked having her around. In the short time they’d spent together, he’d enjoyed having her by his side, offering silent support most of the time but piping up when needed. He’d liked bouncing ideas off her, having her voice of reason talk him down when he went off on some especially odd tangent. Although he was a reporter who dealt strictly with facts, he often had to entertain fantasies to get to that point. Jess had been like a steady, even hand, guiding him when he threatened to veer completely off course.

  And she was gone.

  He stared at the television screen, tuned in to some movie his mom had started to watch before heading to bed. It was an old Robert Redford flick, one he knew he’d seen before as a kid but couldn’t name. His leading lady looked like Jess.

  Of course she did.

  He sighed.

  Same dark hair, same dark eyes, same reluctant smile.

  He’d let her go too easy.

  Not from the story.

  Screw the story. Yes, he wanted her around for that, but he could manage it by himself. He’d done it for years, and even though he’d miss having her next to him while he checked out leads, he could manage.

  But when she’d stepped out of his car yesterday, it had felt much more permanent. She wasn’t just walking away from the case.

  She was walking away from him.

  He pushed himself off the couch and headed into his mom’s kitchen. Pulled open the fridge door and looked at the almost empty six-pack of beer on the top shelf. He’d h
ad four already.

  What the hell, what was one more, especially when he was feeling as shitty as he was?

  He grabbed another can, cracked it open and took a long sip before heading back to his spot on the couch.

  His mom had gone to bed hours ago. And yet he stayed.

  Because he didn’t have anywhere else to go.

  He knew where he wanted to be spending the Fourth of July.

  Scratch that, he thought, sucking down another mouthful of beer.

  He knew who he wanted to be spending the night with.

  Jess.

  He thought back to a few hours earlier, after his first beer, when the alcohol had slightly relaxed him and his tongue was feeling a little loose. He’d known his mom was tired—exhausted, really—but he also knew she was in relatively good spirits and good health that day. She’d done some cooking that afternoon and had even managed to get to Patty’s for a quick visit.

  Which meant Jarrett’s night was technically free.

  He’d pulled his phone out and tapped her name before he could change his mind.

  She hadn’t answered.

  And the message he left…he cringed.

  He could remember it with painful clarity.

  “Jess. It’s me. I…I know it’s sort of short notice, but I was wondering if you had plans tonight. For the fireworks. I’m…I’m at my mom’s—she’s off Poplar Street, the little yellow house with the willow tree out front—and well, I was just thinking if you’re free and want to watch the fireworks together, I’m…I’m around.”

  He shook his head and downed another mouthful. He’d sounded like a lovesick schoolboy, a kid who’d never talked to a girl in his life.

  There were a few things Jarrett was remarkably good at, things that had gotten him where he was in life, both personally and professionally. And the one thing he knew he could rely on, that always managed to get him results and to work in his favor, was his gift of the gab. He could talk to anyone. He could charm anyone. He could communicate with anyone.