She shrugged, not saying a word.

I stood and moved to the kitchen, searching for the snacks I’d prepared. I had an entire spread of fruits and vegetables with dips, waiting to be consumed. The moment I opened the fridge to grab them, I realized I was hungrier than I’d thought. The fruit looked refreshing, a mix of berries and grapes. I carried the snacks into the dining room.

“My favorite,” Len said with a weak smile.

“Hm,” I murmured, glancing up from the tray I set down.

“Strawberries,” she said. “They are my favorite.”

“Mine too,” I said, feeling self-conscious.

“My mother used to buy them as a treat every summer for us,” I told her.

“A treat? It’s a fruit,” she pointed out.

I let out a soft laugh. “Even my knowledge has its limits, and at five years old, I didn’t know the difference between strawberries and a true dessert.”

I saw her lip pull up ever so slightly. Progress.

“Did you grow up near Quantico?” she asked, and I found her full attention on me.

“California,” I answered.

“Do you miss it?” she asked.

“Sometimes, but I’m happy with where I ended up.” I shrugged. “Have you always lived in Briarport?”

I knew the answer was no, but I didn’t mention that. I felt like a stalker. Light stalking for a good reason wasn’t exactly stalking, was it?

I couldn’t even begin to reason with or defend that thought. Instead, I brushed it from my mind. I’d taken all necessary precautions before coming, and I couldn’t take those back.

“No,” she answered. “I used to live closer to my parents until three years ago. My brother lived here already, so I thought I’d give it a try.”

I worked to organize all the printed papers while Lenore snacked on the tray. She tried to help where she could, but it was impossible to explain my organization conventions to her. We spent another hour working to hang everything up. Lenore helped under my guidance.

“We still don’t have much on Jane Doe,” I said, glancing over the wall.

“There isn’t much out there on her.” Lenore shrugged. “I doubt we need it.”

She couldn’t truly believe that? Not with all this work she’d done.

“She’s the key to everything. She’s the only person who may know more about the unsub than anyone. I think if we can find her, we just might be able to track down this killer once and for all,” I pushed.

Lenore’s reluctance had my mind reeling. Could she genuinely not see how this played into everything?