Since She Went Away(25)

“What is it?” she asked. “Don’t keep me hanging.”

“He has an arrest for sexual assault. It was ten years ago, and he served six months. This was down in Georgia.”

If Jenna’s hand hadn’t been resting against her thigh, it would have been shaking. She stared at the floor, the intricate pattern in the tile.

“Did he do it?” Jenna asked. “Did he hurt her?”

“He’s saying no. By the way, we’re trying to keep as much of this as possible out of the press until we’ve had a chance to look into this guy more. That’s why it’s so quiet this morning.”

“Do you believe him?” Jenna asked. “Naomi, he was a scary guy in high school, one of those guys you just assumed would end up in prison someday.”

“I’ve been a cop so long I don’t believe anybody. I’m sorry, Jenna, you’re going to have to be patient on this one. We just got this guy into our hands yesterday. I’ve barely filled Ian in on it.”

“I think I’m going to die being patient.”

“Have you seen him since high school? Benjamin Ludlow?”

“Benny, everybody called him. And no, I haven’t seen him. If I saw him, I’d run the other way.” Jenna rubbed her temple. “What a week this is turning into.”

“I’m sorry about what happened yesterday,” Naomi said. She had a way of talking that made every word seem easy and natural. Nothing to be stressed about here. No crisis, no fears. Sure, we might have a suspect in custody, but it’s nothing to get worked up over. “I hope you know I never would have called you to that scene. None of our officers would have.”

“It was Becky McGee.”

“I know,” Naomi said. “She wanted a story, and she got one. Not the one she envisioned, but a story nonetheless.”

“I walked right into it. I should have stayed at work, but I couldn’t say no. I wondered . . . I wondered about it really being Celia. If it was, shouldn’t I be there and not leave her alone to be handled by a bunch of strangers?” Jenna studied Naomi’s face, evaluating her. “Is that morbid?”

“Not at all.” She reached over and patted Jenna on the knee. “It makes perfect sense.”

“You don’t have to apologize for a reporter’s behavior.”

“I have to ask you about something else.”

“Is this about Benny? Benjamin or whatever?”

Jenna wondered why she felt a different kind of guilt when a police officer wanted to ask her a question. It wasn’t the guilt she felt over Celia’s disappearance. That was a guilt she lived with every day, a duller ache, like a nagging cavity that sometimes—rarely—managed to slip below her consciousness.

But when a cop wanted to ask her something, she felt an acute sense of guilt, a feeling that the officer knew something about Jenna that she might not even understand herself.

“Not exactly,” Naomi said.

“Do I want to know what this is?” Jenna asked, the question slipping out of her mouth with an edge she hadn’t intended. It was the kind of quick, tart response that so often landed her in trouble.

Naomi studied her for a moment, a practiced pause that had the desired effect of putting Jenna back on her heels.

“I’m happy to help if I can,” Jenna said. “Is this something else about Celia’s case?”

“Maybe,” Naomi said, taking her time. A woman was pushing a crying baby in a stroller, the child’s screams echoing off the high ceiling. Naomi looked over and gave the mother a sympathetic smile. It occurred to Jenna that she knew very little about Naomi’s life. She wore a wedding ring but hadn’t mentioned children. The whole relationship seemed asymmetrical. Naomi could turn Jenna’s life inside out, while Jenna had no such recourse toward her. “Do you know someone named Holly Crenshaw?”

“Holly Crenshaw.” Jenna thought it over, trying to be certain before she opened her mouth again. “I don’t think so.”

“She lives over in Clay County, about twenty miles from here.”

“Should I know her?”

“She disappeared two days ago. She went out with some friends while her husband was away on business. It took a little while for anyone to know something was wrong. She’s young, twenty-three. She doesn’t have any kids and only works part-time.” Naomi brought out her phone. She opened a picture and showed it to Jenna. “See? A pretty girl, isn’t she?”

Jenna’s hands shook as she took the phone. The girl looked young, even younger than her twenty-three years. She was a kid, not much older than Jared. And she was beautiful, almost as pretty as Celia was at the same age. Jenna saw right away the general resemblance between the two women. The hair color and length most notably, the fresh-scrubbed beauty.

“You think there’s a connection,” Jenna said, handing the phone back.

“We’re wondering,” Naomi said.

Jenna waited a moment and then said, “There has to be a reason for you to wonder. What is it?”

“Holly worked at the country club Celia and Ian belong to.”





CHAPTER SIXTEEN


The only thing Jenna managed to say sounded defensive and petty. “I’m not a member of that country club. I’ve never even been there.”