Page 61 of Crossing Lines

Pickles crept forward, glancing from the box to Bridget. Though the cat had been coming up on the porch to eat, he wasn’t used to the box or Bridget hovering beside it.

“Here you go.” Bridget extended her hand out farther, the treat pinched between finger and thumb. It wasn’t one of his usual treats. Bridget had spared no expense, getting gourmet treats that cats couldn’t resist, or so the label said.

Pickles looked at her with suspicion for a few seconds before the smell of the salmon treat got the better of him. He slowly came closer, stretching his head out to sniff at the treat. After a few sniffs, he must have decided it was worth the risk. He grabbed it between his teeth and chowed down. Bridget swirled her finger in the bowl just in case he hadn’t noticed it was full of the same treats. Pickles stuck his head in and started eating.

“That’s a great little hideaway for him.” Jo gestured toward the box.

“If only he’d stay on the porch long enough to get used to it.” Bridget risked trying to pet the cat. She ran her fingers lightly down his back, and he didn’t flinch. “I guess he’s coming along pretty good though.”

Jo leaned against the doorway and watched the cat. “My landlord didn’t want me to have pets, but I wonder if he’s ready to sell this cottage.”

Bridget glanced up. “You want to buy it?”

“Yeah, I like it out here, and I’m ready to put roots down in White Rock.” Jo’s gaze flicked from the cat to Bridget. “What about you? Do you want to stay in White Rock?”

Bridget thought about that for a minute. She liked it here. It was peaceful, and the people were friendly. It was the first place she’d felt wanted in a long time. Plus her only family was here, and it was time she stopped running from anything that reminded her of the trauma of her sister’s abduction. And with any luck, the bad things she’d done in the past would stay in the past. She could make a new start here.

“I think I could, but I’m going to need a place of my own. Maybe one that allows a cat.” Bridget looked down at Pickles.

The sound of tires on gravel stole their attention, and they looked up to see Sam and Lucy pull into the driveway. Pickles scampered off as they approached the porch.

Sam watched the cat run toward the woods. “What’s going on with the cat?”

“We’re trying to get it used to being on the porch so it will have shelter for the winter,” Jo said.

“Good thinking. Will your landlord mind?”

“I don’t think he’ll mind a cat on the porch, and besides, I’m thinking about seeing if he’ll sell it to me.”

Sam nodded. “That would be great. This place suits you.”

“It does.” Jo bent down to pet Lucy. “And I still have an interest in a cold case near here. Speaking of which, I have something inside to show the both of you.”

* * *

Jo had been nervous about showing Sam and Bridget the information she’d collected on Tammy’s disappearance. But now, as they stood in front of the powder-blue armoire where she kept her accumulation of notes and listened to Sam’s and Bridget’s thoughtful questions about the case, she was glad she had.

“So you’ve been in contact with this retired detective for over ten years?” Bridget was staring at a page of notes Jo had written after talking to one of the cops that had launched his own search for the serial killer.

“Yes. He’s a wealth of knowledge.”

Bridget glanced up at her. “And what about that FBI guy?”

“Holden Joyce? I just recently found out that he has an interest in finding this particular killer too. We decided it might make sense to work together.”

“Have you planned your next step?” Sam asked.

“I wanted to get your input first,” Jo said.

“Okay. I think maybe we should go back to some of these locations.” Sam pointed at the picture of the bark-stripped beech trees. “Isn’t that picture from the box that Tyler Richardson had in the locker?”

Sam did seem truly interested in the case. That was good. Tyler had been a cop in White Rock and met with a mysterious death. Sam and Jo had been told to stand down on the investigation, so they’d investigated on the side. During that investigation, they’d found a mysterious box with pictures of surveillance Richardson was doing on Thorne. Those pictures had been in the box.

“Yeah, the bark is stripped just like we think the killer does with the trees near where he buries the victims.”

Sam turned to her, confused. “But everything Tyler had had to do with Thorne.”

“I know. These pictures could be a coincidence.” It would be an odd coincidence, but Bascomb had confessed to the murders and denied leaving the beech tree markings at any of his burial sites, so what other explanation was there?

---