Since She Went Away(71)

The dark clouds conjured by the detective’s words stayed. Jenna didn’t know what to say, whether to feel relief over knowing something or fear that her life as well as the life of her son had veered so close to such a monster.

She looked to Jared. She wasn’t sure if she needed to go to him, to place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

His eyes were wide and unfocused. He didn’t glance at either one of them.

Detective Poole seemed uncertain about what to do next. Jenna looked at her and asked, “Was there anything else we could do for you, Detective?”

Naomi took a deep breath. She looked at her watch and pushed herself out of the chair. “No, I don’t think there is. Like I said, I just wanted to give you the heads-up.” She took a couple of steps toward Jared and placed her hand on his shoulder. The gesture managed to appear heartfelt and forced at the same time.

“You hang in there, okay?” she said. “Sorry to keep bringing you heavy news.”

Jared didn’t look up. He nodded. “I get it,” he said. “I’m glad to know. It looks like her dad’s a murderer. And she’s either with him or dead.”

“Remember what I said. Don’t jump to conclusions about anything yet.”

Jenna followed the detective to the door and asked her in a low voice, “I assume you’ve told Ian about this?”

“Just a little while ago.”

“And he’s doing okay?” Jenna asked.

“He understands that William Rose could be connected to Celia’s disappearance. He also understands there could be no connection.”

Jenna thanked her and closed the door.





CHAPTER FORTY-NINE


The ringing phone, the landline, brought Jenna out of a deep sleep. Ian walked through her dreams, talking to her, smiling at her. Reaching out to her, touching her hair. Her eyes opened with a tinge of regret and a stab of guilt. Ian. She dreamed about him instead of Celia.

“Hello?”

“Jenna? Becky McGee.” The reporter’s voice was so chipper it could break glass. Jenna moved the phone an inch away from her ear, hoping to create a buffer. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

Jenna looked at the clock. Six ten. Becky McGee and her chirping voice had just robbed her of twenty minutes of sleep. And maybe the conclusion of her dream.

“Is something going on?” Jenna asked.

“It is. You know, I didn’t really want to call you after the way you talked to me the last time. That time out at the barn? You remember that, right?”

“You mean the clip that played endlessly on CNN? I’d almost forgotten.”

“Do you know no one’s ever talked to me that way? In my life.”

“I doubt that,” Jenna said.

Becky’s end of the line went silent for a moment. Then she said, “Well, be that as it may . . . I’m calling with an opportunity for you. I figured you wouldn’t want to miss it.” The more she talked, the more the pep returned to her voice. “Guess what?”

Rather than telling Jenna, she waited, forcing Jenna to provide the prompt.

“What?” Jenna asked.

“Reena’s coming.”

Jenna sat up straighter, the covers pooling around her body. It was cold in the house. They turned the heat down at night to save money, and Jenna felt the chill in the air, the draft from the imperfect windows. The skin on her arms prickled with gooseflesh. “Coming where?” she asked.

“To Hawks Mill. She hasn’t been here since early December, but with everything going on in the town—Celia, Holly Crenshaw, the earring being found, this William Rose and that poor girl, Natalie—she just feels the time is right for her to come back and try to help people sort through it.”

“Help people?”

“I told her I could handle it on this end,” Becky said. Jenna imagined the reporter reaching around and patting herself on the back while she talked. “I’ve been handling things for her for the last couple of months. But you know Reena. She wants to be where the action is. We’re like that in the news game.”

“Becky, what does this have to do with me?” Jenna asked.

“A lot.” Becky seemed surprised Jenna didn’t get it. “Reena wants to talk to you. She wants to interview you. She’s going to put you on her show live tomorrow night.”

Jenna felt deflated. She fell back against her pillows. “I’m not doing that, Becky. I was on TV so much when Celia disappeared. I never liked it. It made me so uncomfortable.”

“But you’re doing it for Celia. And Natalie.”

“Not after the way I was treated the last time,” Jenna said. “I’m not going to be Reena’s puppet. Forget it. Find another stooge.”

“Reena wanted to call and apologize.”

“She did?”

“She did.”

“So why didn’t she?” Jenna asked.

“She’s busy. Look, between you and me, I think she’s feeling the heat at the network. She’s an older woman. Her ratings are a little down.”

“Good-bye, Becky. Don’t snow me.”

“Jenna, wait. They’re both still out there, and we want to bring them home. Both of them. Don’t you want to make this happen? If you want the cops to keep searching, if you want the story to stay alive, you have to go on the air and talk about it from time to time.”