Last One Alive by Jennifer Graeser Dornbush

Author:Jennifer Graeser Dornbush [Dornbush, Jennifer Graeser]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

THIRTY-SIX

The sky cast a cool blue light on the horizon, opening up the day as Emily laid her note to Anna and the girls on the kitchen table.

I’ve got a few errands to run and then I’ll probably be heading back to Chicago. Make yourselves at home. A—let’s chat soon! Hang in there. I love you all! —Aunt E

Emily crept out of the house and drove across the state to Central Michigan University’s campus safety office. She was armed with the photos of the Honda Civic and its university parking sticker. She cropped the image so just the sticker was visible and it wasn’t giving away anything else.

“I can’t give you that information,” said the campus security admin assistant when Emily showed the pic to her.

“I understand,” said Emily. “What’s your name?”

“Amber.”

Amber needed to get her roots done and was wearing a sweater three sizes too big for her petite frame.

“And you’re a student here, right?”

“Yeah. Work study.”

“Amber, this image is over ten years old. I don’t think whoever this sticker belongs to actually attends the university any longer,” said Emily.

“How do I know you’re not a crazy stalker lady trying to track down her baby daddy?” Amber tossed the wrapper from a throat lozenge into the trash. And missed. She left it there on the floor, along with three matching wrappers.

“I like your vivid imagination,” said Emily. “But let’s say I hung out in the campus parking lots—I could just wait for the car I was looking for. Right? And then I’d know who it belonged to.”

“Yeah, so what?” said Amber.

“So why not save me the time and just see who was registered to this sticker?” Emily scanned the office. On Amber’s desk was a bobblehead of Abby from NCIS. On her phone she was viewing a rerun of the TV show Criminal Minds. And framing her desktop computer was crime scene tape. Dark Roots here was a crime junkie. That was the way in.

“You like NCIS?” said Emily. “Me too.”

Amber nodded and said sarcastically, “I see you have the powers of observation.”

“Lemme guess: you’re a criminal-justice major.”

“Another brilliant deduction.”

“What’s your end goal?” said Emily.

“Detective. Maybe FBI,” said Amber.

“How would you like to get a head start on that career? You can do something today that will give you serious street cred on your résumé.”

“Excuse me? Who are you?” Emily could smell the cherry menthol lozenge from her breath.

“I’m a private eye,” Emily said, stretching the truth. “I’m working on a case that happened near the university. Horrendous crime of passion.”

“Would I have heard about it?” Amber was hooked.

“I doubt it. Police really mucked it up. Can’t trust anyone these days.” Emily kept stretching. “But believe me, it’s big.”

“Murder big?” said Amber.

“Yeah, something along those lines.”

“And you think this person was a student here?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out. This image”—Emily waved it at her again, mustering up a bold approach—“was part of the crime scene. If I can link this car to the student who owned it .

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