“What are we supposed to think? She wandered out into some field and had a heart attack? She’s in her twenties.”
Jenna’s voice was harsh, sarcastic, and unforgiving.
Sally didn’t even flinch. “I guess we’ll know more as the day goes on,” she said, stepping over to pour herself a cup of coffee. “Do you want water or something? I’d offer you wine, but they frown on that here.”
“I want this cop to answer.”
“I’ve been reading about this girl, this Holly Crenshaw,” Sally said. “I understand if you’ve avoided it.”
“I know a little,” Jenna said. “Married. Young.” She took it all in for a moment, the phone in her hand and away from her ear. “Her parents, Sally. God. They’re going to have to bury their daughter.”
“Maybe you should head home,” Sally said.
Jenna didn’t want to leave. She’d missed enough time already, but how was she expected to stay and work with all this craziness swirling through her mind?
“I’m staying,” Jenna said. “I think. I don’t know. Shit, Sally, I’ve missed a lot of work. I have a kid who wants to go to college. He wants to get a car. I need to work.”
“That’s fine,” Sally said. “Would you like me to sit here with you?”
“I’ll be out as soon as I can,” Jenna said. “Thanks.”
Then Naomi called back. Jenna answered, and she didn’t even try to keep the eagerness out of her voice. “What can you tell me?” Jenna asked.
“My information is limited,” Naomi said. “Why don’t I call you back when I know more?”
“No,” Jenna said. “You tell me now. I don’t care if it’s only part of the picture.”
Naomi sighed. “Okay. I’ll tell you what I know, which isn’t much. And really, I shouldn’t be telling you anything at this point, but it’s getting out on the news, so I’ll share some things. We did find a body, a woman’s body, out near the county line this morning.”
“How do you know she isn’t Celia?” Jenna asked.
Naomi paused. “Given the condition of the remains and other identifying factors at the scene, we can tell this body hasn’t been there that long. Certainly not as long as Celia’s been gone.”
“But what if Celia didn’t die right away?” Jenna asked, holding out hope as long as she could.
“It’s not Celia,” Naomi said. “It’s Holly Crenshaw. The coroner will make an official identification and do an autopsy, but we can tell. It’s Holly.”
Jenna’s hands shook as she pulled a chair out from the table. She sank into it, her weight dropping down like a sandbag.
Naomi said, “We don’t know a cause of death yet. We don’t know many other details. Some idiot talked when he shouldn’t have talked and now it’s all over Twitter and the rest of the news. I had to scramble to get in touch with her husband and parents before they found out from some disc jockey’s tweets.”
Jenna stared at the random scattering of items on the table. Napkins, a coffee cup, the newspaper, and some old full-color ads. The objects seemed foreign to her, artifacts from another world, one where women didn’t disappear and end up dead.
“But she was murdered, right?” Jenna asked.
“I’m not going to jump to any conclusions, but we’re certainly treating it as a crime scene.”
“And you’re searching the area. . . . What if whoever did this, what if Celia is there?”
“We’re one step ahead of you,” Naomi said. “I’ve done this job before, unfortunately. We’re searching the area, of course. But, Jenna, don’t get your hopes up for anything.”
Jenna’s elbow rested on the table, and she cupped her head in her hand. It all seemed like a bad dream. Months of her life seemed like the most horrible dream imaginable.
And then she thought of Holly Crenshaw’s family again. They were suffering something unspeakable. The death of their child. The death of a spouse. A sister, a cousin, a friend. Would they ever know the truth about Celia? Would that day ever come for them?
“I have to get back to it,” Naomi said. “I’ll keep you in the loop as best I can, but it’s going to be a long day of sorting things out. And in the end, this case may have no connection whatsoever to Celia’s.”
“I know. You told me that.”
“Take care, Jenna.”
“Benny Ludlow,” Jenna said. “He’s a suspect.”
“Everyone is this early. We’ll talk soon. Okay?”
“Naomi?”
“Yes?”
“Will you tell Holly’s parents how sorry I am for them?”
“Sure I will.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
In the parking lot, someone called her name.