Page 4 of See How They Hide

The apartment was small but neat. A wide counter with four stools separated a narrow kitchen from the living area. The living/dining combo room had overflowing bookshelves, a bean bag chair, two love seats covered with an array of colorful pillows, and a television mounted to the wall. Doors to the right and left went to the two bedrooms.

Kara confirmed what they already knew from Ken’s first interview with Jane’s roommate. Ashley had nothing else to add and seemed genuine in all her responses.

Kara said, “We need to look at Jane’s room again.”

“Right. Sure.” She motioned to the door closest to the kitchen.

Kara walked to the threshold of Jane’s room and opened the door. Before entering, she let her eyes sweep slowly across the room. There was a lot a cop could tell about a victim by observing their personal space. Most people didn’t think to clean up a mess or hide things they didn’t want others to find. Most people expected to come home every night.

Jane’s bedroom was sparse. Kara didn’t have a lot of stuff, but Jane’s room seemed almost sterile.

A twin bed—neatly made. A dresser. Desk and chair. Single bookshelf filled with books.Neatlyshelved books, perfectly lined up. None with titles Kara recognized, except a Bible on the top shelf. No flourishes anywhere.

Nothing super personal, like pictures of friends and family or sticky notes with reminders. Two motivational posters decorated one wall, but they could have hung in any classroom or doctor’s office. One, a mountain with a hiker on top and a Booker T. Washington quote: “You measure the size of the accomplishment by the obstacles you had to overcome to reach your goals.” The other, a sunset over an ocean and a quote attributed to Christopher Columbus: “You can never cross the ocean until you have the courage to lose sight of the shore.”

They were pretty pictures, but did the quotes mean anything to Jane? Kara would normally dismiss such signs, yet they were the only two decorations on the wall, framed, side by side, each perfectly aligned.

Kara walked around the room. The posters could be seen from the bed and the desk chair. Sleeping or working, Jane would see the words, the images.

They meant something to Jane Merrifield. Could they help Kara find her killer?

From behind her, Ken said, “Our people went through here, but there wasn’t much to find.”

“She was twenty-one,” Kara said. “No concert tickets tucked into the mirror frame, no pictures of friends tacked to the wall, no mementoes or knickknacks.” Kara pulled a book from the shelf. The cover didn’t speak to her, but it looked likeLittle House on the Prairiefor adults, with a woman in old-time garb gazing wistfully at a dry field.

Not something Kara thought a young adult would read. The other books were similar. The small print on the back cover indicatedinspirational romance.

Okay, Kara thought. A nice, tidy, sweet, religious young adult. Who would want her dead?

“She lived here for three and a half years,” Kara continued. “Accumulated next to nothing. Do you have kids?”

“Three. Two girls and a boy. I see where you’re going and I agree—for a college student, this is unusual. But I don’t know that it’s suspicious.”

“Do you know if she went to church? She has a Bible and some other religious books.”

“Ashley said Jane didn’t go to church, but if she did without her roommate’s knowledge, it wasn’t often. I have an officer going around to the churches in the area and asking about her, but so far no one has recognized her.”

Kara opened the dresser drawers. Clothes neatly folded. Nothing that shouldn’t be here. No papers or sex toys or hidden photographs.

Closet, the same. She didn’t have a lot of clothes, but what she had were hung neatly by type of garment. A single warm jacket. Two sweaters. Four shirts. Two nice slacks. Two dresses. Four pairs of shoes lined neatly on the floor. The top shelf had more books and a small black suitcase. Nothing out of place, except that there wasn’t much here.

Desk, the same. Except...

Kara pulled out a small box from the bottom desk drawer and opened it. It was a jewelry box without jewelry, but this was where Jane stored everything personal.

“We didn’t miss that,” Ken said, sounding defensive even though Kara hadn’t said anything. “I assumed they were reminders of friends or family, but there are no names or phone numbers to verify. We took photos of the contents, assuming her next of kin would want it.”

“I’m trying to get a sense of Jane. All this—” she waved her arm around the room “—says something. Andthis—”she put the box down on the desk “—also says something.”

What, she wasn’t quite sure, but she’d figure it out.

The box held several photos, letters, and a wooden bird. Beautiful, detailed craftsmanship—the wings had individual feathers carved, the definition in the veins visible even though the carving fit in the palm of her hand.

Most of the pictures were of Jane and a girl with dark red hair who Ken said was her former roommate, Riley Pierce. The only photo of Jane with someone else featured a teenage boy. Jane herself was not more than sixteen in the picture. The boy had dark curly hair and pale eyes. Their heads tilted toward each other. Both were smiling. The background was a forest, but it could have been here in Oregon, back where she grew up in Colorado, or any number of other places.

Kara flipped the picture over—no names or dates. The photo had been taken by an instant camera, the colors faded, the edges bent as if the thick picture had been in a pocket for a long time.

“Does this place look familiar?” she asked Ken, holding the photo out to him.

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