Callie let out a nervous laugh. “Jag has me going through all the weirdos that send me stuff at the station while he’s going through all the people that hate him, but it comes down to the one thing that ties us together.”
“His dick?”
“Don’t be gross,” Callie said. “I’ve never understood why you didn’t like him.”
“I like him. He’s a good guy. He’s just not for you.”
Kara was probably right about that, only her heart told her otherwise.
“But seriously,” Kara said. “If you’re thinking the Trinket Killer sent you those charms, I’d say you’re wrong. First, they aren’t the kind of trinkets he used in the past. Second, there is no dead body. And finally, why three? He’s never done anything like that before. Aren’t you always the one telling me that when a killer breaks a pattern, there’s a reason. So, what’s the reason?”
“That’s what I need to find out.”
“You know, Ivy’s got a thing for ravens.”
“I didn’t know that,” Callie said. When Callie had first met Kara, she’d been a grieving widow who wanted answers regarding her wife’s murder. Their friendship had started off slow, and at first, Callie would get annoyed by Kara’s constant inquiries. But as time went on, Kara became a source of great information. She had an eye for detail and was an excellent research assistant both when Callie had been a reporter and when she’d chosen to become a crime writer.
It had taken Kara a long time to get over her wife’s death, so when she started dating Ivy a few months ago, Callie encouraged it, only she wished she’d gotten to know Ivy better.
But instead, she spent all her time, according to Kara, living in the past and being hung up on three things.
The Trinket Killer.
Her sister’s murder.
And Jagar Bowie.
It was the latter that always pissed off Kara to the point that their friendship had become strained over the last few months. That was, in part, why she hadn’t known Ivy well.
“Yeah, well, it’s not my thing, and honestly, it’s more of a writing thing as in Edgar Allen Poe.”
“Ah. That makes sense,” Callie said. Ivy dabbled in writing short mystery fiction, but she hadn’t had anything published yet.
“Would you like me to have her take a look at them and see if the pendants mean anything to her?”
“Yes, but please don’t tell her why. This is an active investigation considering the note I got at the inn the other day.”
“Do you want me to come to Seattle?” Kara asked.
“No. That’s not necessary.” Callie stiffened her spine. For the last year, she’d come to rely on Kara a little too much. It was time for Callie to take care of herself. “Give Ivy my best.”
“Talk soon and call me if you need to.”
Callie dropped her head and rolled her neck.
“Hey, babe,” Jag said, practically sneaking up behind her.
She jumped, knocking over a couple of files. “Shit.”
“Sorry.” He bent over and picked up the stack before resting his hands on her shoulders, giving them a good squeeze.
She moaned. “You were always so good at that.”
“Have you gotten any better?”
“I haven’t given a massage since you,” she admitted. “What did your security cameras catch?”
“I forwarded a link to you. I want you to watch. It’s dark, and I’m thinking it’s a woman, but I can’t tell.”
“Okay. I’ll look now but only if you promise you’ll give me a better rubdown.”
“Babe, really bad choice of words,” he said as he pulled up a chair, keeping one arm looped around her body. “Open up the email. It’s only about ten minutes long.”
She pulled up her email and clicked on the link.
A grainy video filled the screen. A dark-blue or maybe green four-door sedan rolled to a stop at the top of the hill. She could only see half of it, and she couldn’t tell if it was a Honda or maybe a Toyota. But it was definitely a foreign model. Someone wearing dark clothing slipped from the car and zigzagged through the trees in the yard.
Whoever it was, they wore a ski mask and dark clothes with black sneakers and black gloves. She could tell they were black set against the stark white envelopes, which the person carefully tucked into the newspaper.
“What time is your newspaper dropped off?” she asked.
“Usually around five. But all this is time stamped, so that happened at five eighteen.”
“Huh. I was awake,” she said.
“Pisses me off to admit this, but so was I, though I was in the shower.”
“I was just lying in bed, watching the news, but I was up.” She leaned in, trying to get a closer look. “Whoever that is knew where your cameras were because they made sure their face was never captured.”
“I noticed that,” he said. “Sort of tall for a woman, short for a man.”
“Could be either,” she said. “I remember when Stephanie started to really transition. I thought I would always see my brother Steve, but it was like one day he melted away and there was my sister Stephanie, but oddly, in the dark, other than she grew breasts and long hair, she looked the same. I told her that once, and she didn’t like it.”
“Because you told her she looked like a man, which is the one thing she was trying to get away from.”
Callie smiled. It had been hard for Stephanie. Most people didn’t understand, and she got bullied at lot as a teenager. Even as an adult, Stephanie struggled to fit in to society.
Jag always made her feel like she was a beautiful woman. He even went as far as to set her up on a date with his cousin. It didn’t work out, but that’s when Callie really knew Jag had stolen her heart forever.
“Good point,” Callie said. “I have no idea who that is.”
“Neither do I, but I sent it to the lab. Maybe they can enhance it.”
She leaned into him, resting her head
