The Boy in the Window

Once the coffee finished brewing, Marge poured them all a cup and then pushed Jessica’s toward the edge of the counter before handing one to Owen.

“Thank you.” Owen picked up Jessica’s coffee and moved to sit at the table.

Jessica joined him, wrapping her hands around the warmth of her cup and meeting Owen’s gaze. “This changes everything.”

Owen reached out and covered her hand with his. “I know. I’m so sorry, Jess.”

She continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “I no longer feel safe, Owen. He was in our home, touching our things…”

“We don’t know that it was him, Jess. It could have been some neighborhood kids or teenagers who got high and thought it would be funny.”

A spark of hope flashed in Jessica’s eyes. “Do you think so?”

He didn’t, but she didn’t need to know that. “If I were a betting man, my money would be on pranking teenagers.”

Nearly an hour passed before one of the officers knocked on the Hawthorn’s door to inform Owen and Jess that it was safe to return home.

They thanked Mrs. Hawthorn for her hospitality. Owen followed the officer across the street while Jessica moved her SUV into the drive.

Owen’s stomach clenched as he stepped over the threshold into his home and took in the words painted on his wall.

Jessica rushed inside, hurrying down the hall, obviously checking the rest of the house for thievery.

“Is that what I think it is?” Owen questioned one of the officers after nodding toward the graffiti.

“It definitely looks like blood. We took some samples to give to the lab. Hopefully, it’s not human.”

After another ten minutes of speaking with the officers, answering dozens of questions and assuring them he’d call if he found anything missing, Owen walked them to the door. “What happens now?”

“We’ll run any fingerprints we found along with the blood samples, and someone will be in touch.”

Owen gripped the back of his neck, attempting to relieve some of the tension forming there.

He thanked the officers for their help, closed the door behind them, and turned to stare at the bloody words written on the wall.

A thought entered his mind. Where had Jessica been for the past several hours? Did she know more about what had happened than she was letting on? Worse still, did she have something to do with it?

Guilt flooded Owen the longer he stood there thinking the worst. Of course Jess had nothing to do with it. Why would she stage something so horrific in her own home? Unless she no longer wishes to stay…

Owen went in search of his wife.





Chapter Twenty-Four


Jessica looked up as Owen entered their bedroom. “Are the officers gone?”

Owen nodded. “I’ll clean up the wall before I go to bed. It may leave a stain, but nothing a touch up of paint won’t take care of.”

Jess noticed a strange look in his eyes as if he had something to say yet held back. “What is it?”

He moved up next to the dresser, propped his hip against the side, and picked up a bottle of her perfume.

Bringing the fragrance to his nose, he inhaled deeply and met her gaze. “Where did you go tonight?”

She wasn’t about to mention Steven. Not that she’d done anything wrong, but Owen probably wouldn’t believe that. “I walked around the mall. Why?”

“Are you sure about that?” He carefully returned the perfume to its previous spot.

Jessica’s stomach tightened. She hated like hell lying to Owen. “Yes, I’m sure. Where were you?”

“At a bar,” he answered without hesitation. “Having a drink.”

“Why do you ask, Owen? You’ve been suspicious of my every move since we arrived in this godforsaken place.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, holding her gaze without blinking. “Ah, yes, this godforsaken place. Do you really hate it so much?”

“No, I don’t hate it.”

“It’s no secret that you’re not happy here, Jess. In fact, you made it quite clear that you didn’t want to move to Florida to begin with.”

“Owen, I—”

“Did you set this whole thing up?”

Momentarily speechless, Jessica blinked. “Are you asking me what I think you are?”

“Did you stage this entire scene tonight?” he continued, the accusation hanging in the air.

Jessica’s last thread of control snapped. “You son of a bitch! Do you really think I’m capable of something so despicable? After all these years of marriage, you honestly don’t know me at all.”

She strode toward the door, only to come up short as he caught her by the arm and spun her to face him. “Answer the question, Jess. Did you leave those words on the wall in there?”

“Screw you,” she seethed, twisting her arm free of his hold. “Screw you and this town!”

Storming from the room, Jess snatched up her purse along with her keys and marched to her SUV with Owen tight on her heels.

“Go ahead and run, Jess. That’s what you’re best at, isn’t it?”

She jerked her car door open and turned to face him. “Apparently so, Owen. Maybe you should ask yourself why that is? If someone is running, they have to be running from something or someone, don’t they?”

Climbing into the SUV, Jessica tossed her purse onto the passenger’s seat and reached to close the door. “I’ll come by tomorrow and pick up some of my things.”

Owen prevented her from closing the door. Though he looked angry, she could see the anxiety lurking just beneath the surface as if he feared he’d gone too far. “Where are you going to go?”

“Anywhere but here.”

“So, that’s it. You’re leaving me? No talking it out?”

“Do you really care? Why would you want someone here capable of the things you accused me of?”

“Jess…”

“Move,” she bit out, putting the SUV in reverse.

Left with no choice but to get out of the way or get ran over, Owen backed away.

It wasn’t until Jessica reached the intersection, that she allowed the tears to freely flow. Owen believed her responsible for leaving that message on the wall. Whatever bond that had remained after Jacob’s death, had finally severed under the pressure.





Jess had been up most of the night, pacing the floor of the small motel she’d rented. She had waited until time for Owen to leave for work before driving to the house to grab a few of her things. She couldn’t stay at the motel indefinitely, but it would be a roof over her head until she could decide what to do next.

Turning onto Meadowbrook Circle, Jess noticed a couple of patrol cars parked at the edge of her yard.

She pulled into the drive, taking in the Alabama plates on one of the vehicles.

Snagging her purse, she hoisted it onto her shoulder and exited her SUV. Two officers followed suit, one of them female.

“Jessica Nobles?” the female inquired as she approached.

At Jessica’s nod, the woman extended her hand. “I’m Detective Vickerson, ma’am.” She gestured to her companion. “And this is Officer Dunlap with the Sparkleberry Hills Police Department.”

Jessica accepted her outstretched palm, curious as to what an Alabama law enforcement official would be doing at her house. “Is this about the break in?”

Detective Vickerson shook her head. “Would you mind coming with us to the station? We need to ask you a few questions.”

What could they possibly need to ask her about at the station that they couldn’t ask her now? “What sort of questions?”

“We’ll fill you in on everything once we reach the station. Please, come with me.”

Taking hold of Jessica’s elbow, Vickerson guided her toward the squad car with the Alabama plates and opened the back door. “Watch your head.”





Chapter Twenty-Five


The ride to the station had been excruciating for Jessica. No matter how many times she’d inquired about her reason for being in the back of that patrol car, the detective had refused to tell her.

Now, there she sat in a small interrogation room at the local police station, still in the proverbial dark.

The door opened, and the detective stepped inside. She pulled out a chair, taking a seat across the table from Jess.

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