Don't Look (Pike, Wisconsin #1) - Alexandra Ivy Page 0,47
falter when she realized she recognized the woman headed toward the van. “That’s Jillian Bryant.”
Kir studied the short, heavyset woman who was precariously skidding over the icy gravel. She was wearing a thick, quilted red coat and matching stocking cap. Even at a distance, Lynne could tell her cheeks were as rosy as her coat. Whether from the cold or some emotion was impossible to say.
“You know her?”
Lynne nodded. “She was a few years younger than me in school.”
“Was she friends with Randi Decker?”
“I don’t know about friends, but she works at the florist shop. I remember her delivering a bouquet of roses to the clinic a couple of months ago.”
His eyes narrowed. “From Nash?”
Lynne made a sound of disgust. “Not hardly. He was too cheap for roses,” she said. In fact, the only gift Nash had ever given her had been a teddy bear he’d won at a local fair. “My dad sent them for my birthday.”
“You like roses?”
“I like the thought my dad remembered it was my birthday.”
He studied her with a speculative gaze before turning his head to regard the woman who had almost reached the van. “I want to talk to her.”
“Why?”
“First I want to know what she’s doing at this church.”
Lynne furrowed her brow. It didn’t seem that odd to Lynne, but Kir was determined to suspect that there was something sketchy about the pastor. “What else?”
“I want to know if Randi mentioned being followed or harassed by anyone,” he said without hesitation. “The killer obviously likes playing games.”
“Games?”
“He sent my father letters. He left you a photo. It seems possible he might have taunted the women before killing them.”
With a nod, Lynne switched off the engine and unhooked her seat belt. “I’ll ask her.”
His brows snapped together. “I can do it.”
“She’s not going to talk to you.”
“Why not?”
Lynne grabbed the door handle, glancing in the rear-view mirror to make sure there wasn’t any traffic. “You might have been born in Pike, but you haven’t lived here in a very long time,” she reminded him. “You’re a stranger to Jillian. She’s not going to gossip about her dead friend with you.”
He heaved a harsh sigh, shoving open his own door. “You’re right. You talk to her and I’ll have a look around.”
They both climbed out of the truck. Waiting for Kir to join her in the middle of the street, she sent him a stern frown. “Stay out of trouble,” she commanded. “You’ve already been thrown out of the charity shop. Do you want to get banned from a church?”
He flashed an unrepentant smile. “If it leads me to the truth.”
She rolled her eyes, but she didn’t say anything as he headed toward the brick building. Instead she concentrated on reaching the parking lot without slipping on the ice. The snow was floating down in the soft, fluffy flakes that always looked so pretty on television, but clung to her skin with icy persistence. The sensation warned Lynne that the younger woman wasn’t going to be eager to stand in the cold and chitchat. She needed to get directly to the point if she hoped to get the information she wanted.
“Hey, Jillian.” She stepped in front of the woman, who came to a startled halt.
“Lynne,” Jillian said in surprise, then she smiled. “Sorry, I suppose I should call you Dr. Gale.”
“Lynne is fine.”
Jillian nodded, glancing over her shoulder. “Do you go to church here?”
“No, I happened to see you when I was driving past and I wanted to make sure you’re okay,” Lynne said.
Jillian glanced back in surprise. “Me?”
“I know you worked with Randi. Her death must have been a terrible shock.”
“Oh, yes.” Beneath the chilled redness of Jillian’s cheeks, her skin paled. She appeared genuinely disturbed by her employer’s death. “Honestly, I couldn’t believe it when I got to work and the sheriff told me she’d been murdered.”
Lynne patted Jillian’s arm in sympathy. “Do they know how it happened?”
Jillian’s lips trembled before she pressed them into a tight line. “I’m not sure. They refused to tell me anything, but I saw Randi’s car in the parking lot behind the shop. I have a terrible feeling she was there when . . .”
“When she was attacked?”
Jillian shivered. “Gives me the creeps just to go into the shop.”
Lynne squeezed Jillian’s arm, using the skills she’d developed over the years to put the woman at ease. Being a vet wasn’t just helping animals. It was connecting with the owners so they trusted her to do the very