Jessica and Jarrett both turned.
Thomas gulped nervously.
“Yeah?” Jarrett asked. He was gripping his pen hard, ready to start recording.
The man nodded. “On…on her ankle. A Chewbacca tattoo.”
The pen didn’t move.
“What?” Jarrett’s voice was barely a whisper.
Thomas cleared his throat. “A Chewbacca tattoo. You know, the Wookie from Star Wars?”
Jessica’s eyes widened as she saw the expression on Jarrett’s face. It wasn’t surprise or amusement at hearing what kind of tattoo the woman had.
It was shock, plain and simple.
He swallowed hard.
“That isn’t a Jane Doe,” he said. His voice was barely a whisper. “That’s Katie Simmons.”
12
Thursday, June 28
8:30 am
Nate appeared at Jarrett’s side, almost immediately and seemingly out of nowhere.
“You know the victim?” he demanded.
Jarrett blinked a couple of times. He was still a little shook up by what the man sitting on the ground had just said. “What?”
“The victim,” Nate repeated, the impatience evident in his tone. “You know her?”
“I…” Jarrett swallowed. “I don’t know. He mentioned a tattoo. She…she had one like that.”
Jess was still standing with him, but Blaine and Ollie had moved on. In hindsight, Jarrett realized Blaine had probably been the one to go and grab Nate.
“You think you can ID her?” Nate asked him.
Jarrett gave a slight nod.
Nate straightened. Jarrett watched as his friend’s gaze landed on the beautiful brunette officer standing next to him. Her thumbs were hitched in her belt, her head swiveling back and forth as she kept track of what was happening on the scene.
“I’m taking him down to see if we can get a positive ID,” he told her. “Stay with him.” He motioned to the man still prone on the ground.
Her eyes drifted to Jarrett, and he thought he saw something in her expression. Concern? He couldn’t tell.
“Sure” was all she said.
Nate started toward the riverbank and Jarrett followed. It was still early morning, but the humidity was thick and the sky was cloudless. Jarrett was already sweating.
He knew himself too well to think it was simply a byproduct of the steamy summer weather.
The grass rustled behind him, from the direction of the parking lot, and he turned. Jessica Claret was on his heels.
He gave her a questioning look.
She stared right back. “Blaine is sitting with Thomas.”
Thomas must have been the pale-looking guy on the ground.
Nate glanced back at them just before he stepped down the embankment. His eyebrows furrowed when he saw Jess but he said nothing. Silently, they navigated a few feet of sandy shoreline before stopping next to a cluster of white birch trees. Weeds had sprouted in the sandy soil next to their bases, dandelions and clover and some thorny-looking thistle that Jarrett knew to steer clear of since he was only wearing sandals.
Nate stopped and stepped aside, and Jarrett realized why.
A pale foot came into view.
His gut clenched when he saw the telltale tattoo.
“Yeah,” he said gruffly. “I think that’s her.”
Nate beckoned him closer and Jarrett went reluctantly.
He didn’t want to see Katie Simmons dead.
He forced his feet to move, feeling as though he was walking through quicksand. The four steps he needed to take to bring the body more fully into view felt like four miles.
Standing next to Nate, with Jess flanking him on the other side, Jarrett gazed down at the woman sprawled in the grass.
His throat felt thick, swollen. His gaze swept over the woman, taking in her tangled brown hair, the tattered dress, the bluish tinged skin.
At least her eyes are closed, he thought.
“That’s her.” His voice was hoarse.
He felt a hand on his shoulder, then a squeeze. Nate. “You okay, man?”
Jarrett drew in a breath and nodded. “I’m fine.”
Nate’s hand moved to Jarrett’s back and he patted once, a gentle but firm motion. “Alright, we can head back up.”
But Jarrett didn’t move. His eyes were locked on the woman in front of him. The last time he’d seen her had been months ago, and she’d been in roughly the same position, her legs slightly splayed, her head lolling on an outstretched arm.
But she’d been asleep then.
In his bed.
He shook his head, trying to clear the memory.
“Can you tell me how you know her?” Nate asked, when it became evident that Jarrett wasn’t ready to leave.
“We dated briefly.” For reasons he didn’t understand, he shot a glance in Jessica’s direction. She was still next to him, her eyes still filled with concern. He thought he saw a flash of hurt, too. But maybe he just imagined that.
“Where did you meet?”
“She was a friend of Charlie’s,” he said.
“Charlie Fitzgerald?”
Jarrett nodded. “She’d taken a couple of his classes years ago, before transferring to the U. She got her degree in biochemistry and was working up at the PCA in St. Cloud.”
“PCA?” Jess said, her brow puckering.
“Pollution Control Agency,” Jarrett told her. “Anyway, I’d stopped in at Charlie’s office one day and she came by to see him. Was in town and wanted to pay him a visit. We all went out for dinner and drinks that night.”
“And that was the only time you saw her?” Nate asked.
“No.”
Nate waited for him to elaborate.
“We went out a few times,” Jarrett said. His gaze drifted back to the woman standing next to him.
“What happened?” Nate asked.
“Nothing happened.” Jarrett knew there was a slight edge to his voice, but he didn’t like the insinuation. “We went out on a few dates, then parted ways. As friends.”
“Why?”
“Dammit, Nate, I didn’t do anything to her. I just fucking got here.” Jarrett jerked a thumb at Jessica. “She can vouch for me.”
“He got here right after me,” Jess said, nodding.
“I’m not accusing you of anything.” Nate’s voice was calm. “Just asking some questions.”
Jarrett flinched. He didn’t know why he was getting so defensive. Seeing Katie like this had gotten to him. He was used to reporting stories, coming in as the outsider and assessing the situation, digging for details, following up leads. At that moment, he felt like he was part of the story.
And he didn’t like it.
“So you stopped seeing each other,” Nate prompted.
Jarrett blew out a breath. “Yeah. Neither of us was looking for anything serious, and the commute was a pain in the ass.”
“When did this happen?”
“April.”
“And you guys remained friends?”
Jarrett shrugged. “Sure, I guess. But our paths didn’t exactly cross a lot. She lives in St. Cloud.” Lived, he corrected silently. Because she was dead now.
Nate was quiet for a minute. “She into partying? Drugs?”
“Not that I know of,” Jarrett answered. “She didn’t even drink, come to think of it.”
“No?”
He shook his head. “The first night we went out, Charlie and I had a couple of beers. Katie stuck with soda.” He remembered it vividly. “Said alcohol made her sick.”
“What about mental health issues? Any history of depression or anything?”
Jarrett fixed his friend with a withering look. “We went out on like six dates. How the fuck am I supposed to know that?”
Nate didn’t flinch at his friend’s tone, just gave a curt nod. To Jess, he said, “Why don’t you get Jarrett back up to the lot?”
She hesitated. “Okay.” Her gaze shifted to Jarrett. “You ready?”
Jarrett sighed and nodded, following Jess back up the embankment. Sand slipped into his sandals, rubbing the skin on the soles of his feet, but he knew it would be impossible to dislodge the tiny grains.
“Sorry about that,” Jess said as they got back to the grass.
Jarrett slipped out of his sandals and rubbed his feet against the soft wet grass. “Sorry about what?”
She jerked a thumb toward the river. “About him. He can be a bit…intense.”
Jarrett forced a smile. “Trust me, I know.”
She bit her lip. “And I’m sorry about your…friend.”
“Me, too.” His eyes met hers. “We weren’t close, but it’s still…jarring.”
He didn’t know why he felt the need to tell her this. Jessica Claret wasn’t anything to him. He didn’t have to justify former relationships to her.
He swallowed.
He knew he didn’t need to.
But he wanted to.
She gave him a small smile and reached out for his hand. She held it and squeezed gently, and Jarrett realized this was the first time he’d ever touched her. Her hand was smooth, warm, and it was like a jolt of electricity shot through him.
He wondered if Jessica felt it, too, because her eyes widened and her lips parted.
She pulled her hand away and cleared her throat. “Look, I know you have a story to write, but I also know that Nate wouldn’t want the victim’s identity published until we have confirmation,” she told him.
Jarrett held up a hand. “I’m not gonna say anything.”
A look of relief washed over Jess’s face. “You’re not?”
Jarrett shook his head.
For once, this didn’t feel like his news to tell.
“Thank you,” she said simply.
Jarrett stared at the woman standing next to him, her body so close to his they were almost touching. The sunlight beamed down on her, making her chestnut hair glisten and kissing her tanned skin, the smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose illuminated in the brightness. He couldn’t get over how beautiful she was.
And he couldn’t believe that it had taken him so damn long to notice.
13
Friday, June 29
7:15 pm
It should have been a perfect night.
The temperature was warm, the slight breeze was keeping the bulk of the mosquitoes at bay, and the music emanating from the stage twenty yards in front of Jessica was enough to get anyone’s feet tapping and their heads bouncing in time to the beat.
So why was she nursing her second beer, staring morosely at the faded and pilled blanket she and Megan had spread out over the grass so they could sit and listen to the summer concert?
She didn’t know.
She had lots to be happy about, she told herself as she brought the can to her lips. She was sitting with her best friend on a gorgeous summer night. Megan had packed food to go along with their beverages, and a cornucopia of snacks was literally at Jess’s fingertips.
The crowd of concertgoers was a little lighter than usual, thanks to so many people heading north for the Fourth of July weekend, which meant they were able to position themselves closer to the stage.
And she was starting her weeklong vacation.
She swallowed another mouthful of beer.
Seriously, what the hell was wrong with her?
But she knew.
Responding to the call of the body at the river had bothered her.
And seeing Jarrett’s response had bothered her, too.
He’d clearly been rattled, which had taken Jess by surprise.
And the brief touch they’d shared, when she’d impulsively reached out for his hand, had sent sparks ricocheting through her body. She’d gone home and it was all she could think about for hours, the way a simple, brief touch had literally set her on fire.
Megan waved her fingers in front of Jessica’s face. “Helloooo? Where are you?”
Jess blinked. “What?”
“You’re like a million miles away.” Megan frowned.
Jess turned her attention to her friend. “Sorry. What were you saying?” Maybe she was feeling the effects of the beers, too. She was slightly buzzed.
Megan sighed dramatically, brushing her long blonde hair off her shoulders. “Oh, I was just telling you my life’s dreams. Pouring my heart out to you. And you didn’t even listen.”
Jess smiled and poked her friend in the ribs. “Shut up.”
Megan chuckled. She reached for a bag of chips and shoved her hand inside. “I was telling you about the Clothing Closet. It’s almost ready.”
“It is?”
Jessica was impressed. The Clothing Closet had been a pet project of Megan’s for the last few months, and it seemed like it was coming together even quicker than she had planned. She’d told Jessica about it during the holidays last year, when she noticed a large number of kids in the library and hanging out at other places around town without winter clothes. She did some digging, talking to people, and realized that there were a fair number of kids both in Aspen Falls and the surrounding county who were essentially homeless. They weren’t living on the streets, per se, but a lot of them were couch surfing, drifting from friend’s house to friend’s house, or sleeping in their cars because they had nowhere to go. She’d immediately wanted to open up some sort of homeless shelter, but that kind of project was huge and required a ridiculous amount of navigation of the town bureaucracy. But, she thought, if she could organize and create a space where kids could come to get necessities, free of charge, that might provide them with a bit of a break.
And just like that, her Clothing Closet idea was born.
“How did you manage that?” Jess asked her.
Megan popped the last of her handful of chips in her mouth. Her lips were greasy and flecked with salt, and Jess once again marveled at how much the girl could eat. Megan had been blessed with the type of metabolism that allowed her to eat ridiculous amounts of junk food without putting on a single pound. Of course, she also never seemed to stop moving, so maybe that had something to do with it, too.
“I’m not really sure,” Megan admitted. “Word got around and before I knew it, tons of people were offering to help.”
“So people just started donating?”
Megan nodded. “Well, it helped that the library and other places around town agreed to set out donation boxes. And I’ve spent quite a few days over the last couple of months going to garage sales and asking people to donate leftover clothes to me first, so I can sort through them before taking them to the thrift store.”
Jessica nodded. Megan was always resourceful, always thinking.
“And then Louanne’s friend had a camper they were going to scrap. She told me about it and I got the guy to donate it to me instead. So that will be the actual closet.” Megan wrinkled her nose. “It’s kind of a disaster, but I think a little TLC will help get it spruced up.”
Jess finished her beer and set the empty can down next to her. “Where are you going to park it?”
Megan grinned, exposing a set of teeth that looked like they belonged in a toothpaste commercial. “Louanne said I could park it behind the coffee shop.”
“Of course she did,” Jess said with a smile. Leave it to Louanne to offer to help. That woman was like the patron saint of Aspen Falls, always willing to lend a helping hand to whoever needed it.
Megan pulled a package of cookies from her oversized bag and ripped it open. She held out the package to Jess before grabbing one for herself. “I can’t believe it’s really going to happen,” she said.
“Why not?” Jess bit into the cookie, a chocolate chunk one that, despite being in Megan’s bag, had gotten a little melted. “You’ve worked your ass off on this.”
“I know.” Megan smiled. “I guess I just expected more hurdles. More obstacles.”
“Well, I’m glad you didn’t have any.” Jess grinned back. “Or many, I should say.”
Megan nodded. �
��Me, too. And who knows? Maybe the youth homeless shelter will really happen. The Planning Commission is at least discussing it, so that’s a good sign. I mean, if people begin to realize that there’s no homeless shelter that caters to young adults between here and St. Cloud, and they see there’s a need, they might be willing to help fund it. Or at least support housing it here.”
Jess couldn’t help but smile. Megan was a dreamer. She always would be. And even though she sometimes drove Jessica nuts, the way she was forever flitting from one thing to the next, forever busy saving some segment of the world, Jess loved her. She loved her enthusiasm, her giving spirit, her zest for life.
She had grabbed life by the horns and was doing what she wanted to do.
Jess envied her. She didn’t know what she wanted to do with her life anymore.
Scratch that. She was beginning to think she never knew in the first place.
She sighed, leaned back on her arms, and tilted her head skyward, absorbing the warm evening breeze and letting the music wash over her. Megan had managed to lighten the mood, and her enthusiasm was infectious. The last thing Jess wanted to do was sink back into her own funk. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the band on stage. They had been performing a mix of classic rock, music that rocketed her back to her childhood, singing along to her mother’s eclectic collection of CDs as she cooked dinner or baked brownies.
“I need to pee.”
Jess rotated her head so Megan was in her line of sight. “So?”
“So you should come with me.”
“We’re not in high school.”
Megan grinned. “I know, but I don’t want to go alone.”
“And I don’t want to leave our stuff,” Jess pointed out. She nodded toward the small brick building that housed the bathrooms. “Go now. There isn’t even a line.”
She hesitated.
Jess nudged her with her foot. “Go.”
Megan sighed and heaved herself into a standing position. “Don’t eat all the cookies,” she warned before she hurried off.
Jess just shook her head and leaned back again, closing her eyes. The lead singer, a guy who was easily in his sixties, was belting out a surprisingly good rendition of “Don’t Stop Believing.” Her lips moved to the music, her voice a low murmur.
Dire Straits Page 8
