Since She Went Away(37)

“I have to call the police,” she said. “Someone knows something about Celia, and they might be watching the house.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO


The police lingered for close to two hours. She felt safe with them inside the house and milling around outside. But what about once they left? Would a baseball bat and pepper spray be enough to let her sleep?

The first officers to respond checked the outside of the house. They walked around with flashlights, their jackets zipped to their chins in the cold night. Jenna imagined the neighbors taking in the show and just shaking their heads. The police had been to her house so many times over the past three months, the neighbors would have to work hard to summon any real outrage. The police visits also freed them from their mundane lives. They could judge Jenna, and then go to work or the beauty parlor the next day with yet another story to tell.

The cops were over there again last night. I don’t know what it was this time, but did you see her on Reena Huffman? What a mouth.

While the cops poked around outside, Jared opened cabinets in the kitchen. “What happened to that promise of grilled cheese?”

Jenna tried to take it as a good sign that her son could be so unconcerned by the arrival of the police. She went to work on the sandwich, hoping it would distract her. But her hands shook as she buttered the bread, and Jared stepped in.

“I’ll finish,” he said. “Thanks.”

“Are you feeling all right now?” Jenna asked. “You said you were sick.”

“I’m fine,” he said.

“Was there a problem at school?” Jenna asked. “Or is this girl trouble?”

Recognition flickered across Jared’s eyes. So it was girl trouble. But he didn’t offer anything else, and before Jenna could follow up, the doorbell was ringing again.

“I . . . we can talk about this,” she said.

“Just get the door, Mom,” he said. “I’m fine.”

“But you’re not fine.”

“I’m finer than you are right now.” He placed his sandwich on the griddle. “That’s probably the cops. Maybe they found an opossum sneaking around outside.”

But then a small smile crossed his face. It looked forced, and Jenna imagined it said more about his own unhappiness than any judgment of her.

“Okay,” she said. “But we will talk.”

? ? ?

Detective Poole wore jeans and a sweater, and her white tennis shoes squeaked against the hardwood floors in the living room.

“I didn’t think you’d be here,” Jenna said as she took the detective’s coat and hung it on a hook.

“These guys know to call me when the important stuff happens.”

“I guess your evenings at home get interrupted a lot.”

“The cat doesn’t mind.” Her clothes made her look older and more dowdy. She could have been anyone’s mother, just arriving home after an evening at Bible study or book club. “Tell me about these messages.”

Naomi listened carefully and then asked if she could look at the conversation online. Jenna led her back to the office. They passed Jared in the kitchen. He sat at the table chewing his sandwich, staring straight ahead and looking lost.

Naomi patted him on the shoulder. “Hey, handsome.”

“Hi, Detective.”

“Naomi. Call me Naomi.”

Jared smiled a little again, but he still didn’t look like his usual self. Jenna felt a twinge of jealousy. She envied all the parents who had to worry only about typical teenage stuff. Broken hearts, parties, acne, proms.

Jenna opened the computer and logged on. The conversation came back up, although Domino had logged out. Naomi studied it for a few moments, reading it over a few times. She didn’t take any notes, but her brow wrinkled as she read along.

She pointed at the computer. “I’m going to take a screen capture of this.” And she did, the fake camera sound filling the room. “And this guy hasn’t ever gotten too weird before?”

“No.” She tried to keep her voice level. “Okay, the last time we chatted he asked more pointed questions. He wanted to know where I lived. He said I ‘sounded’ like a southerner, whatever that means. And he asked me if I’d ever had the desire to visit famous crime scenes. He said he’d been to cities all over the country where these kinds of kidnappings had taken place.”

“And that wasn’t weird to you?” Naomi asked, her eyebrows lifting above the owlish glasses.

“Do you know what the people are like on these sites?” Jenna asked. “They all think they’re some kind of junior Sherlock Holmes. It’s a hobby. Some people collect stamps. These people study crimes.”

Naomi leaned back in the chair. It creaked under her weight. “True. It’s a great thing the members have been able to help solve a few crimes. Really, it’s amazing. And rare. And now it’s encouraged them. More and more probably joined the fun, thinking they could figure out things the police couldn’t.” She swiveled the chair a little, pointing her body toward Jenna. “I’ll be honest with you, we just don’t have the technology here to trace something like this. If the guy is using his own computer to talk to you, then the state crime lab could trace it. They have a unit devoted to online stalking and harassing. I can turn this over to them, and they can look into it.”