Since She Went Away (31 page)

“How’s Bobby doing?” Jenna asked. “He lost his father.”

Ursula moved her upper body. It might have been a shrug, but Jenna again wasn’t sure how to read it. “The viewing is tonight. They’re laying him out over at Marcum and Sons.”

“Oh. Tonight? Are you going later?”

“Bobby and I had a huge fight over something, something that belongs to me. I don’t think I’m going.”

“Maybe we should go home, Mom,” Jared said.

“Wait a minute,” Jenna said. “Jared told me that Bobby’s dad worked with this William Rose guy. That’s the connection between the two of them. But what kind of work did he do for Bobby’s dad? How did that lead to his dad being dead in that house?”

“I’m not sure I understand it,” Ursula said.

“Try me. I bet you understand it better than you think.”

Ursula fixed Jenna with an impertinent stare, one intended to burn holes in Jenna’s flesh. The girl didn’t like to be challenged. Jenna knew she came by that honestly. Celia didn’t like to be pushed or challenged either. Queen bees don’t like to have the drones rise up against them. But Jenna had been in stare-downs with Celia. She didn’t always defer to her more polished friend. Jenna’s spine had plenty of steel, especially after the past few months. She could handle Ursula.

“It was some security stuff,” she said. “I guess Mr. Allen had employees he didn’t trust, and he wanted to keep an eye on them. Maybe it was even like blackmail. You know, get some dirt on the employees and then they wouldn’t act out or maybe they’d even get fired. I think William Rose was doing that.”

“Spying,” Jenna said, cutting to the chase.

“Right.”

“But Bobby doesn’t know why William Rose killed his dad?”

“Something went wrong. It usually does, especially if you’re dealing
with lowlifes.” The girl sounded wise beyond her years. And she probably was.

“And that’s it?” Jenna asked.

“Could there be more?”

“Why do you want Jared to go on TV so much?” Jenna asked.

“Mom?”

Jenna looked over at Jared, and even in the dark she could read the look on his face. It said,
Let it go. Let it rest.

“Can’t we discuss this at home? Just you and me?”

Jenna ignored him and waited for Ursula to reply.

The girl said, “Isn’t it obvious? He’s a new voice. He can plead for the safe return of his girlfriend. Don’t you want her to come back safely?”

“Of course,” Jenna said.

“I’d be happy to go on TV and talk about Mom. Do you remember I did it a few times when she first disappeared? I talked to Reena. I talked to a couple of other shows. I did whatever I thought would help.”

“I remember.”

It was one of the saddest spectacles of those first days, watching Ursula on the TV. She squinted against the lights, her eyes fixed on the camera. Her voice quavered as she spoke from a combination of nerves and grief. Jenna understood why Ian wouldn’t let her back on. It was the same reason she didn’t want to let Jared do it—why expose your kids to that? It was bad enough the adults had to publicly grieve.

“And I’m worried about Bobby,” Ursula said. “His dad was murdered. Even if I’m mad at him, he’s a good friend.” She looked down at the ground and kicked a small rock out of the way. When she spoke again, her voice was lower. “I have a lot of reasons.”

“Sure,” Jenna said.

“Don’t you want to go on?” Ursula asked, turning to Jared.

“I do,” he said, his voice low in the cold night.

“Look, Jenna, you just have to do the right thing here,” Ursula said. “You just do. It’s one of the best chances we have to find this guy. And we need to find this guy. We all benefit. We can learn what happened to Mom. And Natalie.” Ursula lifted her arms and then let them fall to her sides. “We have to.”

Her voice grew faint, disappearing into the traffic sounds and the soft whooshing of the wind through the naked trees. Ursula looked small, more like a child than a teenager. The wind lifted her hair, brushing it across her face.

Jenna closed the distance between them, reaching out as she came alongside Ursula. She’d known her since the day she was born. Had held her and changed her, babysat for her and bathed her. She placed her arm around Ursula’s back, felt the girl stiffen at her touch.

“This isn’t easy for any of us,” Jenna said. “Maybe you’re right. But I’m not crazy about any of us going on TV right now. Maybe we can reach out to a different reporter. I’m not getting burned by Reena.”

Ursula’s body remained stiff, as if infused with iron. But Jenna didn’t let her go.

“I just want it all to be over,” Ursula said. “You know? I just want it all to be over. I’m sick of this limbo life we’re all living.”

“I know,” Jenna said.

She felt the girl soften a little under her touch. Ursula didn’t give in and fully accept the hug, but she moved closer to Jenna, her body easing in.

“Your mom . . . she loves you very much,” Jenna said. “I’m sure you know that.”

Ursula closed her eyes. Jenna thought tears would come then, bursting out through the girl’s closed lids. But they didn’t. She kept that look on her face for a moment, and then slipped out of Jenna’s grasp.

“Do you want a ride?” Jenna asked. “I drove and it’s cold.”

“I’m meeting a friend.”

“Will you call me if you need anything?” Jenna asked. “You can. I hope you know that.”

Ursula stopped on her way to the side of the band shell, the place she’d emerged from minutes earlier.

“I need this to be over,” she said. “That’s all.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

W
hen they returned home, Jenna approached the house cautiously.

Domino55 might be around. Whoever he was.

Jenna carried her pepper spray in one hand and insisted on walking ahead of Jared.

“Shouldn’t I go first?” he asked. “I’m supposed to be the man of the house.”

“Not until you pay rent,” she said. “Until then,
I’m
the man of the house.”

But there were no problems. No sign of anyone lurking in the bushes. No sign of any break-in. As Jenna slipped her key into the lock, the bright glare of the porch light illuminating her work, a police cruiser rolled by, the extra protection promised by Naomi Poole.

Jenna breathed easier as they went inside. But she still made sure to turn the dead bolt behind her, to do whatever she could to keep out everything that needed to be kept out.

Jared went out to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. He slid containers and jars around while Jenna stopped behind him, leaning against the counter.

“Do you want me to make you something?” she asked.

“I’m good. I’m not really hungry. I’m just looking.”

“I feel terrible for Ursula,” Jenna said. “She seemed so alone. So small and lost.”

Jared took out a jar of pickles and closed the refrigerator. “Sure. You’re right.” He opened the jar and started munching, pickle juice dripping onto the floor.

Jenna pointed at the mess.

“Sorry,” he said and leaned over the sink. “She’s . . . yeah, I feel bad for her. She lost her mom. She’s trying to get by as best she can. I should be sympathetic when she’s cold.”

“I need to do a better job for her,” Jenna said. “I hope getting back in touch with Ian allows me to do that. Celia would have liked it, don’t you think?”

“You talking to Ursula? Or Ian?”

“Ursula,” Jenna said quickly. “Well, both.”

Jared shrugged and took another pickle from the jar. “Sure. I guess.”

Jenna’s phone rang. She looked at the screen. “Shit. It’s Naomi.”

“So?”

“I jump out of my skin every time she calls.”

The phone kept ringing.

“Not answering it doesn’t change whatever she has to tell you,” Jared said.

Jenna watched him wipe pickle juice off his chin. “When did you get so wise?”

She took the call.

“Can I bend your ear for a minute?” Naomi asked.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, no. There’s no news.”

Jenna’s heart was beating fast. She took deep breaths, trying to
slow it down. Would she be jumping this way at the sound of a phone for the rest of her life?

“I guess that’s good,” Jenna said.

“I hear Reena is on your case to do the show again,” Naomi said.

“She is.” Jenna felt angry just thinking of Reena’s smug face. “I told her I’d think about it. She wants Jared to go on as well.”

“So, what are you thinking?” Naomi asked.

“I think I’d hate myself if I could have gone on that show and made a difference. If one person knew something about Celia or Natalie and my going on there could have tipped the scales. I know it’s crazy.”

“Not entirely. But you don’t sound certain.”

“I’m not, Naomi.” Jenna tried to keep her voice level. “I hate that bitch. I hate her overly made up, sanctimonious guts. And I’ll be damned if I’ll let her anywhere near my son.”

“That’s good.”

“You know who I’d feel like if I went on there?”

“Who?” Naomi asked.

“Charlie Brown.”

“Trying to kick the football every year?”

“Exactly. Tell me, Naomi, tell me I don’t have to go on. Tell me it won’t really make a difference.”

“Jenna, the word about Celia and Natalie is out on loads of news outlets and social media sites. You don’t have to carry the whole burden alone. You know that, don’t you? You’re not in this alone.”

The detective’s words brought a catch of emotion to Jenna’s throat. Simple. Direct. Calming.

She wasn’t alone.

“Then can I tell Reena to screw off?” she asked.

“I wish you would,” Naomi said.

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

J
enna didn’t want to watch the next night.

She tried to channel Ian, his detached calm, his refusal to get drawn into any of the messy emotional scenes surrounding Celia’s disappearance.

She tried reading another romance novel. She tried cooking. She stood over the stove with her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail and made an omelet and bacon, the little splatters of grease hitting her wrist and hands and decorating the backsplash.

But she knew Reena was in town. In town and on TV.

And she wouldn’t be in town and on TV unless she had something important to say.

Jenna shook her head. She didn’t regret skipping the interview. Not at all. She wasn’t sure how she would have reacted if she’d been in the same room with Reena. She wasn’t a violent person, never had been. And it was rare for one woman to ask another to step outside and solve a problem with their fists.

But Jenna wanted to. She wanted to channel months of frustration and fear and sadness into one punch that connected with Reena’s overly powdered nose.

So Jenna was glad to be at home.

But she found herself in front of the TV when the ominous and overly dramatic theme music for Reena’s show started playing.

Jared came into the room and sat on the end of the couch. “You’re going to watch the freak show?”

“I’m ashamed of myself.”

“It’s kind of like porn, I guess,” he said.

Jenna looked up. She remembered Sally’s assertion that all men, including Jared, looked at porn. She started to ask but stopped herself.

“I’m glad we didn’t go on there,” Jared said.

“Are you?”

“Yeah. I don’t think it’s a good scene. I don’t think it helps. Like I said, it’s a freak show.”

“I think you’re right,” Jenna said. “No, I know you’re right. I just want Celia and Natalie to be found. I’d give anything for that.”

“I know you would,” Jared said. He slid down off the arm and onto the couch seat. “God, her makeup is horrible.”

Reena came on the screen. A live shot in front of the police station. The scenery around her looked so wholesome, so safe and homey, it was hard to believe such horrible crimes had happened in Hawks Mill. That people looked at each other with suspicion, that no one felt safe in their houses anymore.

Reena loved the contrast. It played right into her hands. She loved to sit on TV and scare middle America.

Reena jumped right in. She didn’t bother to bring her audience up to speed on either Celia’s or Natalie’s cases. She acted as if the unseen audience were an old friend, someone who was able to just pick up on the never-ending story of murder and betrayal and mayhem that Reena brought to their homes every night.

“I’m here in Hawks Mill, live in front of the police station in this beautiful town, because there is breaking news in the case of Celia
Waters, the missing Diamond Mom. And, of course, we have the latest news on the case of Holly Crenshaw and yet another murder here in this picturesque little town. And this time the victim was a middle-aged man.”

Jenna’s hand moved toward the remote, an involuntary gesture. She knew she should turn it off. She knew she should look away.

But Jared was there, watching. And Jenna knew she couldn’t avert her eyes. Reena’s show was too much of a train wreck.

“. . . and you know I’ve had my doubts about Jenna Barton, the friend of Celia Walters who showed up late that night, that tragic night Celia disappeared. Snatched away by some animal.”

Reena’s bright red lips pursed. She shook her head, so disgusted by all of it. Jenna knew Reena loved every minute, every controversial, overblown minute of the spectacle.

“We’ve now learned why Jenna Barton was late that night. This is an exclusive, people, one you need to pay attention to. One that involves a lie Jenna Barton told, and a crime committed by a minor.”

Jenna looked over and locked eyes with Jared. He paled, his lips parting but no words coming out.

“What is she talking about?” Jenna asked, not expecting an answer.

“She couldn’t,” Jared said.

They turned back to the TV.

“As it happens, Jenna was late to meet Celia that night—and this information comes from a reliable source. A rock-solid source. Believe me, I never bring anything on the air unless it’s rock solid.” She pointed a manicured nail at the screen. “You can count on that.”

“What a fake-ass bitch,” Jenna said.

“It turns out Jenna’s son was involved in an underage drinking incident. He’s fifteen. That’s why Jenna was late that fateful night. That’s why she didn’t meet her best friend. That’s why Celia Walters was taken off the streets by a maniac. And yet Jenna Barton lied about it—”