CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Waiting for Finn's phone call dominated my afternoon. I deep-cleaned my bathroom. I did a load of laundry. I even spent thirty minutes chipping the ice off the edges of my driveway.
I checked my phone every five minutes, making sure I hadn't missed Finn's call. My desire to see Finn again was purely motivated by my need to find Justin's killer and clear Chris's name. It had nothing to do with how fun it was to tease him about his name, or the way my stomach fluttered at the memory of the way he'd rushed in like a knight in shining armor at Camelot Flowers. At least that's what I tried to tell myself.
Instead of a phone call, at exactly five o'clock, Finn's truck rumbled around the corner and pulled up in front of my house. I brushed a strand of my honey-brown hair out of my eyes and leaned on the ice chipper my dad had bought me as a housewarming gift two years ago.
Finn climbed out of the truck and headed toward me.
"I wasn't expecting a house call," I said cheerfully.
Finn ran his hand through his dark-brown hair, which was mussed like he'd done the motion a hundred times already. "I needed to get out of the office," he said. "Your place is on my way home, so I thought I'd stop in and see what you wanted to talk about."
I leaned the ice chipper against the side of the house and motioned for Finn to follow me. "Come on in. I've got coffee, tea, something a little stronger if you're interested," I said as I climbed the small set of stairs to the front door.
Finn followed me into the house. It didn't escape my notice that he locked the deadbolt behind him. "I'm good, but thanks," he said. He shrugged out of his coat and looked around as if lost as to what to do with it.
"Let me take that for you," I said. I took his coat and hung it in the coat closet by the door.
Finn stepped out of his shoes and followed me to the couch. "What was it you wanted to talk to me about?" he asked.
Now that he was here, in my living room, I found myself nervous. I didn't want to go back to the days when all we'd done was fight about the murder investigation and Chris's alleged involvement.
"We haven't had a chance to really talk since the pie social," I said. "I wanted to fill you in on some things I found out," I said as I pulled my sweater sleeves down over my hands. "I also wanted to know if you've made any headway in the investigation."
Finn stared wearily at the fireplace. It was dark, unlit at the moment. I reached over and flipped the switch to start the flames.
"This is different than the investigations in Chicago," he said. The fire danced in shades of orange across his face.
"How so?" I asked.
Finn leaned his head back against the couch and closed his eyes. I had a feeling I was seeing a side of him few got to see. "In Chicago, we struggled through investigations with too little evidence, too few suspects. Here, it's like there are too many." He rubbed his hands across his eyes. "I was scheduled to go over what I have so far with my old partner from back in Chicago. It helps to talk things out, but he got called to a crime scene, and we had to cut our phone call short," Finn said.
I'd never considered that Finn was used to solving crimes with the help of a partner. Here, he was the boss. Giving orders, not taking them. It must be lonely. "I'm happy to talk things out with you," I offered.
A ghost of a smile graced his lips. "A few days ago, I would've shut that down…" he said before trailing off.
I held my breath, waiting for him to finish his sentence. When he didn't, I asked, "And now?"
"I may live to regret this, but I'd love to hear everything you know," he said.
I was tempted to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming. "What if you hear something you don't like?" I asked hesitantly.
"Like what?" Finn said, immediately sounding suspicious.
"Like information that doesn't line up with the evidence against Chris," I started with, although I was just as concerned Finn would be upset that I'd learned anything at all after his insistence before the pie social that me asking questions was dangerous.
"Despite what you may believe, I'm not convinced Chris is the killer," Finn said.
I wanted to pinch myself again. If I followed through on all these urges, I was going to have bruises up and down my arm at the rate these pinch-me moments were coming.
"There's something not right about all of this," Finn continued. "Something I'm missing. I can feel it in my gut." He ticked off his points on his fingers. "Chris's fingerprints were found on the murder weapon, but it was his tool in his building. I'd be suspicious if his prints weren't on it. Then we have Justin, who seems to have angered plenty of people. The girlfriend, Samantha, the woman he was allegedly having an affair with from Rose Lake, although no one seems to know her identity.
"There's the drugs you found under Justin's bed, along with the stack of cash," Finn continued, building up steam as he went. "A guy Justin went to high school with named Tony left him angry voicemails the night he was murdered, and Justin was recently fired from his job."
Okay, so Finn wasn't only focused on Chris as Justin's killer. It should've made me feel better, but instead, it highlighted how far away we were from finding the real murderer.
It was time for me to share the information I'd learned today. "I found out the identity of the woman Justin was having an affair with," I said, hoping against all hope that this might be the piece of information that broke the case wide open.
Finn sat up, looking much more awake. "How did you find that out?" he asked. He didn't sound upset. Simply curious. And a little shocked.
The answer to his question was going to reveal the truth that I hadn't simply been waiting around for information to fall into my lap. "I asked Derek Thompson," I said. "He and Justin were close. Even closer than Justin and Chris. If Justin was fooling around on Samantha, Derek would know about it."
"And he just told you?" Finn asked in disbelief. He ran his hand over his beard. "I interviewed Derek, and he swore he didn't know anything about it."
While earlier this week, I'd reveled in the idea that Finn might flounder in his attempts to navigate the small-town politics of Star Junction, now I simply felt bad for him. He was trying to do his job, and the loyalties of lifelong friendships were getting in his way.
"I may have accused Derek of murdering Justin to get a rise out of him." I gave Finn a pained smile, unsure how he was going to like my strategy with Derek. "It worked. He was insulted and blurted out the name of the woman. Heidi Fischer, by the way," I said in conclusion.
Finn pulled out his phone and tapped something into it. A text message? A note to himself? Did he have a list of suspects on his phone like I did on mine?
"Are you sure I can't get you any coffee?" I asked.
Finn had looked exhausted this morning when he gave me a ride to work, but he looked downright haggard now.
"No, I'll never sleep tonight if I have coffee now, and I promised myself I was going to take a break. I'm no good to anyone if I'm falling asleep on the job," he replied. "In fact, I should probably get going. Learning the name of the woman from Rose Lake is helpful. I want to run it down and see what I can find."
"Need any help with that?" I asked hopefully. I'd trusted Penny to find out what she could about Heidi, but I had a feeling Finn's investigative resources would beat Penny's any day.
Finn chuckled softly, which was a good sign, but then he said, "No help needed. Believe me, just learning the name is help enough."
Shoot. Well, I couldn't expect him to say yes all the time, but since I never knew when he'd be in the mood to share, I had to take my chances when I got them. "Can I ask a question about the case?" I asked.
"Ask away," Finn said. "I can't promise I can answer it, but if I can, I will."
"What can you tell me about the box under Justin's bed?" I asked.
Finn stared at the ceiling. I could almost hear the mental processing he was going through to decide whether or not to answer my question. "I went back to the Hunt house the next morning and collected the box. I had to move the bed to get to it. You're right, I probably wouldn't have found it without you," he said.
It seemed like an inappropriate time to celebrate or gloat, so I said, "What was that white powder?"
Finn sat up and angled to face me. The look on his face sent nervous energy fluttering through my rib cage. "It was meth," he said, his tone grim. "And what's worse, it was cut with Fentanyl. If that's circulating around town, I'm surprised we haven't had an overdose yet."
I'd heard on the news a few months ago about the dangers of drug dealers mixing Fentanyl into their product. It made the drugs more addictive, but it was also easy to overdose. "Meth? In Star Junction?" I said incredulously.
"Wherever Justin got it, it just made this case more urgent. We need to find his killer, but we also need to find the source of this product and shut it down before someone dies. The thing is, the drugs could have nothing to do with his murder. I've got a lot of leads but not a lot of evidence," Finn said.
The words except pointing to Chris hung in the air between us.
"You can't think Chris had anything to do with those drugs," I said, feeling defensive of my friend.
Finn shook his head and said, "I don't have any evidence suggesting that."
I blew out a sigh of relief.
My phone buzzed, and I glanced at it to see a text from Penny. You're coming to the mall with me. I'll be there in ten. You can't say no. I found her.
"Do you need to take that?" Finn asked, watching as I read the text.
Penny had found Heidi? Already? I struggled with whether or not to tell Finn. I wasn't worried about my own safety. Penny and I would be surrounded by people at the mall, totally safe. Even if Penny was right about Heidi working there, I'd tell Finn when I was sure. I didn't want to send him on a wild-goose chase in case Penny had stumbled on the wrong Heidi Fischer. "Penny needs me to go to the mall with her," I said, answering his question vaguely.
"Don't say no on my account. I need to be getting home anyway, unless you want me crashing on your couch. Five more minutes in front of the fireplace, and I'm going to be a goner," Finn said.
I had to admit the thought of Finn asleep on my couch wasn't altogether horrible. "Let me at least tell you what I know and the questions I have. I can summarize it in five minutes, tops," I said.
"Go for it. Maybe it'll spark something I haven't connected yet," Finn said.
I shot off a quick text to Penny telling her I'd be ready. I also sent a text to Chris letting him know I'd be home later and would check in with him then. He meant well, but there was no way he was going to be done with his parents anytime soon. His mom would want to linger, not getting to see him as often as she'd like.
By the time I was finished with my texts, Finn looked about ready to fall asleep.
"Just a few more minutes, sleepyhead." I nudged his foot with my own.
Finn opened his eyes and turned his head, giving me a sleepy smile that only encouraged the swarm of butterflies in my stomach.
"Let me get my notes," I said as I jumped off the couch, giving myself some distance to lasso those butterflies into submission.
By the time I retrieved the paper with my notes from my purse, Finn was sitting up and looking more awake. He looked at the web diagram I'd drawn. "This is impressive," he said.
I couldn't tell if he was serious or making fun of my amateur attempts to sort my thoughts, but he sounded sincere. "It's like my own mini murder board," I replied.
"Certainly more portable than anything we have at the station," he said.
I smoothed out the paper. "Tom Palmer, Justin's old boss and the owner of Palmer's Gravel and Rock, is an old friend of my dad's," I explained to Finn. "I asked him why Justin got fired. He said someone had been taking one of his dump trucks out at night. He figured it out because he was spending more on gas even though he didn't have more orders."
"And Tom knew it was Justin?" Finn asked.
"He suspected. Justin denied it, but I guess he was the only one who could've been doing it," I said, still feeling confused why someone would want to ride around in a dump truck.
Finn stared out the window. It was already dark out. With the lights on in the living room, our own reflections were the only view out the window. He turned back to me and said, "What if Justin was using the trucks to transport drugs?"
"What?" I asked in shock. The thought had never occurred to me, but maybe it should have. "You think he was transporting a whole dump truck's worth of drugs?" I pictured the tiny bag I found under Justin's bed, but this time the back of a dump truck filled with them.
"I doubt a whole dump truck's worth, but a dump truck traveling back and forth between towns wouldn't raise a lot of suspicion. Any officers or state troopers would just assume the truck was hauling something from one town to another," Finn said slowly as if piecing things together. "No matter how many trips the truck made."
"But why not just use his own truck?" I asked. "People drive between Star Junction and the other small towns in the area all the time. You need to go to Walmart? Drive to Rose Lake. Want to see a movie? You drive to Kingston."
Finn rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. "I'm not sure, but there's something there. I can feel it," he said.
"I'm still voting for jealous lover," I said confidently. "Or jealous lover's lover."
My phone buzzed with a text from Penny. Two minutes away. Be ready.
I stood and said, "Penny's almost here."
Finn stood too and followed me to the door, where we both put our shoes on. I grabbed his coat from the closet and held it out for him before taking my own off the hanger.
Finn shrugged into his coat. "I'll make talking to Tom Palmer my first priority tomorrow." He yawned. "Right after I get some sleep."
"Are you going to be okay driving home?" I asked, concerned.
Finn opened the door for me, and we stepped outside in time to see Penny pull into my driveway.
"I'll be fine," Finn said. "I live over on Oak. It'll take me two minutes."
I hadn't taken the time to think about where Finn was living in town. Oak Street was lined with single family homes, small ranch houses with neat front yards. "Are you renting?" I asked.
"For now," Finn said as he looped his scarf around his neck and waited next to me on the steps as I locked the new deadbolt.
Finn's expression clouded. "Just a reminder… Don't tell anyone about the drugs or the fingerprints on the screwdriver. I can't risk people finding out I gave you confidential case information," he said.
I wanted to argue that he only had most of that information because I'd found the box under Justin's bed, but I didn't want to start a fight. Not when getting along with him was proving to be so nice. "I won't tell anyone," I promised.
"Including Chris," he said gravely.
The pang of guilt I felt at withholding this information from Chris was sharp, but I nodded my agreement. "Including Chris," I agreed.
Finn waved to Penny, who was waiting in her car. The shocked look on her face at seeing Finn leaving my house was enough to make me giggle. It felt good to laugh. Maybe a trip to the mall was exactly what I needed.
Penny took off toward the highway the moment I had my seat belt buckled. She didn't say hello. She didn't offer an explanation. She didn't even ask questions about what Finn was doing at my house. Instead, she said, "Take my phone and open Instagram."
"Instagram? Is that how you found her?" I asked, taking Penny's phone from her so she could put two hands back on the wheel.
"Will you just open Instagram?" she said impatiently.
I complied, mostly because it was clear she wasn't going to let this go. "It's open," I said.
"Search Heidi Fischer," Penny said. "Her account wasn't private, so it was pretty easy to find her. Thankfully there don't seem to be any other Heidi Fischers in the area, and she listed Rose Lake in her profile."
I searched the name. "There are a lot of Heidi Fischers."
We reached the edge of town, and Penny picked up speed on the highway. "Find the one from Rose Lake. It's in her account description. She's got red hair and is wearing a green dress in the profile picture."
"I added the words Rose Lake to my search and found what Penny had described. "Got it. Ah, she's cute," I said.
"Don't let Samantha Weston hear you say that," Penny said with a grimace.
I thought back to my interaction with Justin's ex-girlfriend at the Piggly Wiggly earlier that week. She already wasn't a fan when she believed I was accusing her of Justin's murder. No way was I going to make it worse by letting her know I thought Heidi, Justin's other girlfriend, was cute.