“What?”
Jenna paused for a moment as the memory crystallized in her mind. “She shoved Jared once. They must have been three or four and were playing some game together. Jared didn’t do things the way Ursula wanted. I guess he actually stood up to her and said no for a change, and she shoved him. Hard. He hit his head against the coffee table.”
Naomi cringed. “Ouch.”
“It was scary. I thought he was going to need stitches. You know how head wounds bleed. But it stopped eventually, and Ian and Celia fell all over themselves apologizing.”
“That makes me glad I only have cats,” Naomi said, her voice deadpan.
“She got into that fight at school right after Celia disappeared.”
“I remember that,” Naomi said. “Kids fight sometimes.”
“Ursula always had Ian wrapped around her little finger. God, I hate when girls do that.”
“Do what?” Naomi asked.
“That whole ‘I’m Daddy’s little girl’ thing. You know? Climbing into her dad’s lap? Acting like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth? Ursula always did that with Ian. I guess he went along with it because he wasn’t around as much. With everyone else, Ursula could be a challenge. I guess she’s more like her dad. Tough to read.”
“It looks like her mom was tough to read too,” Jenna said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
On Friday, Jenna came into the break room where the employees drank coffee or ate their lunches or retreated when patient demands and craziness grew too intense. When she entered the room, two of her coworkers were already in there, and the moment she stepped through the door, the conversation halted. Jenna knew they were talking about her.
She looked at the two women, their faces sheepish. Emma was another nurse and Charlaine helped with the books. Jenna didn’t know them well, didn’t care much what they thought of her. She thought about just doing what she came to do—grab a cup of coffee and slip away without speaking—but why should she let things go unchallenged? If they had something to say to her, they should say it.
“You don’t have to treat me like a china doll,” she said to them. She went over to the pot, pulling a mug down from the cabinet above her head. “What is there to talk about now? I haven’t cursed on TV for a few days, and none of my other friends have disappeared.”
Jenna kept her back to them while she added sugar, stirring with a beat-up spoon, the metal clanking against the side of the mug the only sound until Charlaine cleared her throat. Jenna turned around. The two women looked sad and not offended. Their eyes were full of sympathy, the corners of their mouths turned down.
Something was going on.
“What?” Jenna asked, looking down. “Am I wearing two different shoes?”
“It’s not that, honey,” Charlaine said.
Honey? Charlaine never called her “honey.” No one called her honey except her mother and maybe Sally.
“What, then?” Jenna asked.
Emma said, “Didn’t you watch the news today?”
“No. I’m kind of done with the news these days.” But her mind raced. News? Celia? She set the mug down and moved closer to the women. “What is it? What happened?”
The two women exchanged looks, each hoping the other would speak up.
“What?” Jenna asked as images of Celia rushed through her head.
A body found. A break in the case.
“You don’t want to hear this kind of news from me,” Emma said.
“What news?”
Finally Charlaine took one for the team.
“Why, Jenna, it’s that Holly Crenshaw girl, the one who disappeared from Clay County? They found her body this morning. She’s dead. We just thought you’d have heard.”
? ? ?
Jenna paced in the break room, the phone to her ear. Everyone else had cleared out, giving her space, and word rippled through the office to stay out of Jenna’s way.
She dialed Detective Poole over and over again, getting voice mail every time.
Sally came in once while Jenna dialed. She placed a reassuring hand on Jenna’s shoulder and then folded her up in a hug. Jenna gave in to the human contact for a long moment, letting some of her weight fall into Sally’s surprisingly strong grip. But then she just as quickly pulled out of it, straightening up and trying Naomi’s number again, leaving her third voice mail of the morning.
“What are they saying on the news?” she asked Sally.
“Not much, of course. Are you sure you want to hear any of it?”
“Absolutely.”
“I heard on the radio they found her in some remote area. I guess a farmer was out working his land in advance of spring, and he came across the body and called the police.”
“Not the same barn?”
“Oh, no. This was near the county line, but on our side. Not close to where you were Monday.”
“So it’s murder,” Jenna said. “She was murdered.”
“They’re not saying.”