list in the report you gave me, but is there anyone I can talk to while we’re in Jackson?”
The Hinds County investigator glanced over his papers. “There’s one. The victim’s sister lives just off Highway 18. I’ll give her a call and tell her to expect you . . . in what, the next hour?”
“That’ll work.”
Emma gathered her papers. Since Sam couldn’t drop her off anywhere, at least she’d get to sit in on this interview.
63
With his other problem taken care of, he’d been free to follow Ryker and Emma from Natchez to the Hinds County Sheriff’s Department, his frustration and anger growing with each mile. Ryker was forcing Emma to go with him, but the ranger would soon be out of the picture. If only he’d had some way of recording the meeting with the investigator.
Not to worry, though. Emma would fill him in. She looked out for him that way. Just last night when he looked at her Facebook posts, he saw her coded message to him, telling him to be careful, that Ryker would stop at nothing to get rid of him. Her last post had been worded to let him know she was deeply in love with him.
His breath stilled as Emma and the ranger exited the sheriff’s department. He fell in behind them, keeping at least two cars back. When they reached the Natchez Trace, it would be harder to stay invisible. His anxiety grew when Ryker exited off I-20 onto Highway 18. Where is he going?
Raymond. His mouth dried. Kimberly Fisher’s sister lived in Raymond. Relax. The sister knew nothing. He’d be okay.
Emma.
It was time. He would go ahead to Natchez and wait for her.
64
Sam turned off Highway 18 onto the county road where Kimberly Fisher’s sister lived. He turned to Emma, who had been quiet after they left the Hinds County Sheriff’s Department. “I hope you’re not upset with me.”
She sighed. “I’m not happy, but I don’t want to be a liability. You are going to allow me to go in with you?”
He didn’t want to leave her in the SUV, not after telling her she was in danger. “Yeah. Just this last time.”
The GPS announced they’d arrived at their destination, and Sam parked behind a small sedan. The door to the brick, ranch-style house opened, and a woman who appeared to be in her forties stepped out onto the small porch. He grabbed the file Detective Lane had given him and climbed out of the SUV. Emma met him in the front yard, and they walked to the house together.
“Ranger Sam Ryker?” the woman asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “And I assume you’re Paula Johnston, Kimberly Fisher’s sister?”
“Yes.” She gave Emma a quizzical glance.
Sam introduced Emma. “We believe whoever murdered your sister killed Emma’s brother.”
Sympathy flooded Paula’s face. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Winters.”
“Call me Emma, please,” she said. “And thank you. I still have trouble believing he’s gone.”
“Won’t you come in?” They followed her inside, and she invited them to sit. “It’s been four years, and sometimes, like Emma, I still find it hard to believe. How can I help you?”
“What can you remember about the men your sister dated?”
“That’s just it—she didn’t date anyone except Adam—that’s the man who was killed—although I tried to get her to go out with other men. He was terrible to her. I still don’t understand her fascination with him.”
“Your statement in the report indicated Kimberly received daisies a few days before she died and then there was a bouquet at the funeral,” Emma said. “Do you know who sent them?”
“We never learned who sent them. And they didn’t come from any florists around here. Detective Lane checked all the florist shops in the area, and the few orders for bouquets of daisies weren’t gerberas, the flowers Kimberly received.”
Emma glanced at Sam. “Maybe this person grows his own.”
He hadn’t considered that. “How about friends? Was your sister close to anyone other than family?”
“Hardly. Adam had practically isolated Kimberly. If she’d ever married him, I probably would have completely lost touch with her.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Although there was this one person . . . he stopped by her desk sometimes, and I assumed he worked in the same building as Kimberly, but Detective Lane couldn’t pinpoint who he was.”
Sam flipped through the file Lane had given him. “Did she ever mention his name?”
“If she did, I don’t remember.” Paula stared down at her hands and the ring that she twisted. “You have to