Don’t talk to me anymore. Don’t try to message me.
We should talk more. Maybe in person. Celia might be alive. People have reported seeing her—
Jenna slammed the lid of the computer down, severing the connection.
“No,” she said.
She looked around the room. The blinds were closed. No one could see in, but she couldn’t see out.
Was he out there? Watching?
Someone knocked at the door. Jenna jumped, gasping again.
“Mom?”
The door opened, revealing Jared. His hair messy, his eyes sleepy.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “I heard something.”
“Where?”
“In here. You said something.”
She brushed past him, heading for the front of the house. She checked the lock and chain, then breezed back down the hallway and through the kitchen.
“Mom? What is it?”
She reached the back door and checked the lock and chain there.
Jared came up behind her. “Mom, what’s going on?”
“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.