A man held his badge up to the peephole.
“Ms. Blake? I’m Detective Russo. I’m working the Isabel Hernandez homicide. May I come in?”
She unlatched the door. Detective Russo was muscular with thick, dark hair and a Brooklyn-Italian accent. She put his age at around fifty, maybe a decade older than she was.
“Who is Isabel Hernandez?”
“The victim was found just off campus this afternoon.”
“You mean the body in the woods? It was murder?”
“Correct. I have a few questions.”
“Come in.” She felt completely puzzled as to why he’d be questioning her about a murder case. Maybe not completely puzzled. The thought this victim was the person she was set to meet had been nagging her all afternoon. “I don’t know how I can help you.”
“Did you know the victim?”
“Me? No. I just resumed teaching a couple of weeks ago. I don’t have any students named Isabel.”
The detective pulled a business card from his pocket. “We found this on the body. That’s you, isn’t it?”
“Yes, that’s my business card. I just got them in the mail a few days ago.”
“This is your home address scribbled on the back. And your phone number, correct? Did you write this? Have you given away many cards?”
She grabbed her reading glasses. “Yes, it’s my address and phone number. No, I didn’t write it, nor have I given away any cards yet. I have no idea who this girl is. Do you have a photo?”
The detective opened his iPad. “Her fiancé sent this to us.”
Jenna stared at a beautiful young woman in a party gown, with huge brown eyes. “I’ve never seen her before.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” She considered whether to mention her concern. “Wait. I don’t know her, but I received a strange note when I went into work today. It said to meet behind the student union building after my class. Isn’t that near where the body was found? It was…”
“It was what?”
“The note said it was a matter of life and death.” Her heart sank.
“Do you have the note?”
“Yes, it’s in my purse. Hold on.” She dug through the purse. “Here.”
The detective compared it to the writing on the back of the business card. “I will get the lab to analyze it, but it looks like the victim’s writing. What did she say when you met with her?”
“I didn’t. I mean, I went to the back of the student union building after class and waited, but she never showed.”
“She wasn’t one of your students? You’re certain?”
“I can check my roster.” She opened the laptop and drummed her fingers on the coffee table waiting for it to load. She scrolled through her two classes. “Nope. No Isabel Hernandez.” She scrolled through previous class lists. “Not a former student either.”
“Don’t you find it strange? Someone you never met before died with your card in her
pocket. And now you tell me you received a note. If you know something you aren’t sharing…”
“I told you I’ve never met her and I have no idea why she had my information.”
“Well then, here’s my card. If you think of anything, any possible connection to this girl,
call us immediately.”
“I will.” She resented the detective’s tone. Does he think I had something to do with this? I won’t be blamed for another death—not in this lifetime.
“Ms. Blake? I’m Detective Russo. I’m working the Isabel Hernandez homicide. May I come in?”
She unlatched the door. Detective Russo was muscular with thick, dark hair and a Brooklyn-Italian accent. She put his age at around fifty, maybe a decade older than she was.
“Who is Isabel Hernandez?”
“The victim was found just off campus this afternoon.”
“You mean the body in the woods? It was murder?”
“Correct. I have a few questions.”
“Come in.” She felt completely puzzled as to why he’d be questioning her about a murder case. Maybe not completely puzzled. The thought this victim was the person she was set to meet had been nagging her all afternoon. “I don’t know how I can help you.”
“Did you know the victim?”
“Me? No. I just resumed teaching a couple of weeks ago. I don’t have any students named Isabel.”
The detective pulled a business card from his pocket. “We found this on the body. That’s you, isn’t it?”
“Yes, that’s my business card. I just got them in the mail a few days ago.”
“This is your home address scribbled on the back. And your phone number, correct? Did you write this? Have you given away many cards?”
She grabbed her reading glasses. “Yes, it’s my address and phone number. No, I didn’t write it, nor have I given away any cards yet. I have no idea who this girl is. Do you have a photo?”
The detective opened his iPad. “Her fiancé sent this to us.”
Jenna stared at a beautiful young woman in a party gown, with huge brown eyes. “I’ve never seen her before.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” She considered whether to mention her concern. “Wait. I don’t know her, but I received a strange note when I went into work today. It said to meet behind the student union building after my class. Isn’t that near where the body was found? It was…”
“It was what?”
“The note said it was a matter of life and death.” Her heart sank.
“Do you have the note?”
“Yes, it’s in my purse. Hold on.” She dug through the purse. “Here.”
The detective compared it to the writing on the back of the business card. “I will get the lab to analyze it, but it looks like the victim’s writing. What did she say when you met with her?”
“I didn’t. I mean, I went to the back of the student union building after class and waited, but she never showed.”
“She wasn’t one of your students? You’re certain?”
“I can check my roster.” She opened the laptop and drummed her fingers on the coffee table waiting for it to load. She scrolled through her two classes. “Nope. No Isabel Hernandez.” She scrolled through previous class lists. “Not a former student either.”
“Don’t you find it strange? Someone you never met before died with your card in her
pocket. And now you tell me you received a note. If you know something you aren’t sharing…”
“I told you I’ve never met her and I have no idea why she had my information.”
“Well then, here’s my card. If you think of anything, any possible connection to this girl,
call us immediately.”
“I will.” She resented the detective’s tone. Does he think I had something to do with this? I won’t be blamed for another death—not in this lifetime.