Page 13 of The Killer You Know

“Could be,” he sniffs, pulling down an illuminated magnifying glass from above, allowing us a better look at the marks. “We’ll run some tests, see if we can lift any DNA or find any trace evidence that might give us a lead. It could have been done with a fingernail for all we know.”

The sound of rhythmic footsteps interrupts us and we look up to see Jack’s brother, Mitch, clad in a suit, grin on his face, and he’s holding a plastic bag from the grocery store.

“Morning, Fallon.” His grin widens with the greeting. “Miller.”

“What’s in the bag?” Miller’s curiosity is piqued and so is mine. “Blueberry muffins?” He waggles his brows, hoping to make all of his blueberry dreams come true.

“Yearbooks,” Mitch counters. “Four of them to be exact. I’ll leave them with you, Fallon. Jack is only in the last one, senior year, but he left an interesting legacy—most of it documented between the pages of this tome.”

“Wow, I can’t wait to see young Jackie.” I laugh as he sets the bag down on the table next to me and pulls out the book in question.

“Here he is,” Mitch says, opening the book and showing me a younger version of Jack looking cocky while standing under an oak tree. He’s wearing a letterman jacket while bedroom eyeing the camera, and below the picture it reads, the best part about Aspen Heights High is all the new girls I get to meet.

“All the new girls you get to meet?” Miller reads from over my shoulder and howls with laughter.

“And meet them all he did,” Mitch says. “Jackie here dated just about every girl in our senior class.”

“Only because I followed your lead,” Jack says, frowning at his brother.

“Wait a minute,” I say, my own laugh dying down quickly. “Did you date Brittney or Robin?” My eyes enlarge because this conversation happens to be taking place in front of Robin’s corpse.

Jack averts his eyes. “Let’s just say I didn’t leave any stone unturned.”

“Wow,” I muse. “So you dated both the kidnapped woman and the deceased?” I raise a brow. “Was there anyone in your class you didn’t go out with?”

Jack gives a wry smile. “All right, fine. My dating life could be labeled as prolific. But it was high school. We all have a past.”

“Sure,” I huff with a laugh. “But most of us don’t have our pasts coming back as key figures in a murder investigation.”

“I’m not a suspect.” He’s quick to eliminate himself. “In fact, I was with you all day yesterday. You’re essentially my alibi. Besides”—he shoots a wry smile at Mitch—“you dated both victims as well.”

Miller chuckles. “All right, before you go making any arrests, I’m about to take my lunch break.”

“We can take a hint,” I say before looking at Jack. “Thanks for the yearbooks, Mitch—and the intel. Somehow this new information adds a little depth to our investigation.”

“Depth, huh?” Jack doesn’t look impressed with the thought. “Well, if we’re diving into past relationships, I might need to start taking notes on yours—for investigative purposes, of course.”

A chill rides through me despite my laugh. “Good luck with that. Unlike some people, I didn’t leave a trail of broken hearts across Pine Ridge Falls High.”

We say goodbye to Miller and he lets us know he’ll give us the heads-up on any new findings.

Mitch, Jack, and I go our separate ways, and no sooner do I pick up Buddy from the dog park than I get a message from Nikki.

Forensics has cleared us to inspect Robin’s laptop at their offices.

“All right, Buddy. We’re headed to the field office,” I say. “Time to dive into the digital side of this investigation once again. Here’s hoping it unravels a mystery or two.”

10

Special Agent Fallon Baxter

The forensics department has a distinct vibe with a blend of concentrated focus and the hum of cutting-edge technology at work. It’s located just one flight up from our situation room at the field office in Denver and was recently updated with state-of-the-art equipment. I’m expecting big things this afternoon, but not from the state-of-the-art equipment—from Robin’s laptop to be exact.

Buddy trots by my side as we step off the elevator, and the familiar scent of Jack’s cologne greets us before we ever see him. That and the subtle undertone of coffee—a staple in a place where the work never sleeps.

I head into the lab, a dark room with screens and monitors lining the walls. Rows of elongated tables and chairs are set out and I spot Jack and Nikki huddled over a workstation in the corner with the blue glow of the computer screen casting an ethereal glow on their faces.

Nikki has her crimson locks tossed up into a bun, and she’s clad in black yoga wear. Her face looks fresh. No signs of a rough night in sight. I’ll have to ask how she does it.

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