“You know, Reena, that’s several questions you’ve asked me now, but I suspect none of them are the one you really called about.”
“You’re right,” she said. Jenna could imagine the TV hostess patting her perfectly sculpted hair. “I’m about to go on the air with a story, and I wanted your comment on it. I would have called sooner, of course, maybe even arranged an interview, but we got this so late, and it’s Friday and we want to get it on.”
“You want to know if I knew if Celia was having an affair when she disappeared,” Jenna said.
“News does travel fast out there in Kentucky. I need to know your sources.”
“I didn’t know. I just found out myself.”
“Not about the affair in the past or the one at the time of her disappearance?”
“Neither.”
“How did you learn about them, then?” Reena asked. “I’m sure the police will be wondering why you didn’t know and how you found out.”
“I’ve already talked to the police,” Jenna said.
“Well, this is all fascinating.” Someone said something on Reena’s end of the line. The voice sounded harsh and rushed. “I’m on my way,” Reena said, her voice muffled a little. And then she was back. “I do have to go now, Jenna. But you should watch tonight, since I’ll be covering this.”
“Yeah. Maybe.”
“You’re not still mad at me about last time?” Reena asked, her voice as sweet as buttermilk. “I just had to follow the story and show the human drama. And this is a very human drama.”
“You don’t want them to find Celia, do you?” Jenna asked.
She hadn’t planned it, hadn’t thought it, but the words rushed out. Was there a benefit to Reena if a crime was solved? Not if it happened quickly. There must have been a sweet spot where she hoped an answer would come. Long enough to stretch the ratings out but not so long that people grew sick of hearing about the story.
Reena didn’t lose her cool. That was the problem with challenging someone like Reena, a true believer. She never lost her cool. She’d argued in courtrooms and on national TV. Did Jenna think she could shake this woman’s composure or knock her off stride? More important, did Jenna think Reena cared about anything she had to say to her?
“See,” Reena said, “you’re getting angry again. I worry about you, I really do. Think about your son and the example you’re setting. And think about your health. You want to be around for him, and that stress is toxic. It eats us up inside.”
“Listen, Reena, I only care about Celia’s—”
But the connection was terminated. Reena had had the last word.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Jenna stared at the dead phone in her hand.
She slammed it down against the base. The act gave her little satisfaction. It served only to jar her wrist and leave her with an aching shoulder.
“Fuck.”
Then the doorbell rang.
“Who the hell?”
She remembered she’d ordered pizza. She grabbed her wallet and walked over to the door, pausing to peek through the window, since a murdering lunatic was on the loose in the area.
It wasn’t Stanley’s Pizza.
Even with his back turned, Jenna recognized Ian from his clothes, his hair, his posture. She opened the door and let him in.
? ? ?
Jenna tried to estimate how many times Ian had been inside her house. She remembered him coming over for a few of Jared’s birthday parties, maybe stopping by to pick up Ursula when Jenna had watched her. But it wasn’t often. No more than ten or fifteen times and probably not once during the previous five years.
He stepped into the living room, his long, lean frame seeming to reach the ceiling. Jenna took a quick look around, seeing the space through his eyes. It was clean and picked up, just like always. And Jared, thank God, hadn’t left any dirty dishes or socks or books on the floor. But it was nothing like what Ian had grown up with or how he lived as an adult. If you looked at the house that way, it suddenly seemed small and insignificant.
“This is kind of a surprise,” she said.
“I know. I realized, well, I didn’t have your number saved in my phone. I could have found it at home, of course, but I wanted to talk to you sooner rather than later.”
Jenna offered him a seat on the couch and asked if he wanted anything to eat or drink. He declined politely, and she told him she had a pizza on the way.
“You know Jared and I do that a lot on Friday nights,” she said. “It’s a tradition. I guess I have to enjoy it before he’s off to college.”
“Maybe Ursula and I need to think of some things we can do like that.” He looked lost in thought for a moment, as though he wanted to formulate a plan for bonding with his daughter right then and there. “It’s tough with a girl. I have to be honest, I don’t even know what she’s into. It was easy when she was little. It was pretty much all princesses and horses.”
“I think . . . maybe you don’t want my advice.”