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“I didn’t know you were superstitious,” she teased.
“Neither did I.”
*
Jessie tried not to make a sound.
At just past 1 a.m., she put her stuff down on the kitchen counter and sneaked over to Hannah’s room to peek in. The girl seemed to be fast asleep. But just to be safe, she carefully pulled her bedroom door closed. Then she plopped down on the couch, too exhausted to move, much less change out of her clothes.
She knew she should go lie down and get a few hours of rest. But her mind was racing. All kinds of ideas and leads bounced around in her head, none of which she could pursue right now.
Michaela was only seventeen, but with two jobs, she surely had a bank account. Jessie made a note to try to access it tomorrow. She also needed to see if the girl’s phone records were ready for review yet. She worried that if Captain Decker bought the Valley Bureau claim that they had their man, he’d refuse to let her follow up on any of this.
She heard a rustling behind her and spun around on the couch to find Hannah coming out of her room.
“What are you doing up?” she whispered unnecessarily.
“I was worried about you,” Hannah said with such sincerity that it took her by surprise.
“Oh. Thanks. I’m okay; just frustrated.”
“Why?” Hannah asked, sitting down beside her on the couch. “Did the guy get away?”
“Just the opposite, actually. We caught someone. But I don’t think he’s the killer. Unfortunately, the people holding him disagree. So unless I find a new suspect, the guy may go down for this and there won’t be anything I can do about it.”
They sat there silently for a while. Eventually Hannah readjusted her legs and Jessie thought she was going to get up. Instead the girl leaned back on the couch and looked up at the ceiling.
“I was thinking about something after you left,” she said with less certitude than Jessie was used to.
“What was that?”
“You said Mick came from an abusive background, right?”
“Yeah,” Jessie confirmed, noting silently that Hannah had adopted use of the girl’s nickname when discussing her. “Her dad was a drinker. It was so bad that she got emancipated at sixteen.”
“Okay,” Hannah said. “In one of my first sessions with Dr. Lemmon, she suggested I start writing in a journal, so I could get my thoughts down—the ones I wasn’t comfortable sharing out loud. But the truth is I was already doing that. I started a few days after our father killed my adoptive parents. I wrote furiously just to get the thoughts out of my head. I probably went through five or six journals before she ever brought it up.”
“Uh-huh,” Jessie said, nodding. She wasn’t certain where Hannah was going with this but didn’t want to interrupt.
“I was wondering…what if Mick did the same thing?”
“Kept a journal?” Jessie asked.
“Yeah. Think about it. Her mom dies. Her dad is a nightmare. She’s living at a Catholic school with nuns watching her every second. Then she leaves and starts doing porn. She seems like the kind of girl who might have some stuff she wanted to get off her chest.”
“That makes sense,” Jessie said noncommittally.
“I thought so,” Hannah said, now leaning in. “If she did keep a journal, I’d be willing to bet there’s a lot of material in there that might be useful to someone investigating her death. Assuming you knew where to find it.”
Jessie sat with the idea for a moment, letting it sink in. After several seconds, a possibility formed in her head. She turned to Hannah.
“You’re a genius,” she said.
“What?” Hannah said, blushing.
“I think I know where to go and it can’t wait until tomorrow. So for the second time this evening, I’m going to say goodnight and suggest you get some sleep.”
She got up and headed over to the counter to collect the things she’d placed there only minutes earlier.
“Where are you going?” Hannah asked.
“I’d tell you,” Jessie said. “But then I’d have to kill you.”
Hannah frowned but said nothing. Jessie was impressed with her restraint so she threw her a bone.
“But, little sister, if this pans out. I promise I will tell you.”
She caught a quick hint of a smile on Hannah’s face just as she shut the door.
