“Okay.”
“Anyway, I was driving to work a few weeks ago and I see this red truck. It’s old and beat-up. Before I can really worry about it, it’s gone. No big deal. Then two weeks ago, I saw the same kind of truck parked across the street. It was just there for a few minutes but it was there. So, I’m at the mall, scoping out the competition when I see a guy. Grungy. Kinda weird. Again he’s there and then he’s not.”
So far, nothing much Rick could use, but he let her keep talking. “Two days ago, I’m buying coffee in Nashville, twenty minutes from here. Same truck. And same guy. When I came out of the shop I look up and he’s staring at me. I know that was no accident.”
“I understand you snapped a picture of the truck with your phone camera.”
“I did.” She turned to the counter and picked up a phone in a bejeweled case. She punched in the security code and scrolled to the image. “I caught him as he was getting into his car. I don’t think he saw me take the picture.”
Rick studied the picture. A man faced away from the camera so there was no clear image of his face. He was dressed in jeans and getting into a pickup truck. He was a classic Nashville character. “Can you describe him?”
“Not really. I just got a glance at him. I mean I remember thinking he wasn’t nice-looking, but that’s all I can remember.”
His thoughts turned to Jenna and her talent for giving a face to images trapped in the subconscious. “What if I hooked you up with a forensic artist? She might be able to help you create a picture.”
“I don’t know if I got that good a look at him.”
“Would you try?” He had two dead women and now a third woman, who fit the profile, being stalked.
“Sure. I’ll try.” She shook her head. “So I’m not losing my mind?”
He shook his head. “You were smart to listen to your instincts. I’ll be in touch.”
Jenna sat in her car cradling a hot cup of coffee she’d bought at the drive-through. Despite the day’s rising heat, a deep chill iced over her bones. The officer had come by and taken the doll’s head away, but its arrival coupled with Susan’s visit had unsettled her more than she was willing to admit.
Her phone rang and she tensed, ready to ignore it, and then she saw Rick Morgan’s name. Despite herself she smiled. “Detective.”
“Did my officer come by?”
“He did. Took care of business.” She considered telling him about Susan but decided there was no point. She was a big girl who could handle a reporter.
“Can I call in a favor?”
She closed her eyes and savored the heat of the sun. “I thought you already did that?”
“Okay, you got me. But I was hoping I could call in a second favor?”
A smile tipped the edges of her lips. “I think this will be the third.”
“Rachel asked for the other favor. Technically, this is my second.”
“By the way, did anything come of the sketch I did for Rachel and her client?”
“No. Not yet.”
A DUI case from a nobody wasn’t at the top of anyone’s list. Nice if every case got the same priority treatment but the reality was that time was precious and cops had to pick and choose. “So what do you need?”
“Another sketch.” He explained what was happening.
Jenna rested her head against the headrest. Just the idea of a job calmed her racing nerves. “Give me the address.”
It took Jenna thirty minutes and a few wrong turns before she found the dress shop in Franklin. It was a cute place, though she decided that wasn’t her style. It had the look of money, and she’d be willing to bet the dresses cost more than she’d ever be able to afford. She grabbed her sketchpad and slid out of the car. Rick Morgan emerged from the front door, looking much like a fish out of water. She had to smile.
“I thought your tastes weren’t pastel.”
He laughed. “Don’t underestimate me.”
The smile again transformed his face from stern and severe to almost handsome. She cleared her throat. “You need a sketch?”
“I do. I’d like you to meet Pamela Grayson.” He shifted his gaze to the woman who emerged from behind the counter.
Pamela extended a manicured hand as if this was some kind of new business presentation. “You’re Jenna Thompson. I saw your sketch on the news. I remember your story when you were little. It was all over the news.”
She accepted Pamela’s hand. “I seem to be the news of the day.”
The woman’s hand was soft but her handshake strong. “You were brave to go on television. It must be hard having the past dug up?”
“All for a good cause.”
“Have you gotten any leads yet on that poor missing girl?”
Jenna glanced toward Rick, unwilling to blow any leads he might have in the Lost Girl case. “You’ll have to ask the detective. I was simply the artist.”
Rick cleared his throat. “Let’s say we’ve made substantial progress since the picture aired. You’d be surprised how accurate Ms. Thompson can be.”
Pamela shook her head. “I don’t see how you can help me. I barely saw the guy.”
“I’m a regular magician when it comes to pulling memories to the surface. I’m assuming now is a good time to work?”
Pamela nodded. “I’ll close the shop for the afternoon. We can take as long as you need. I want to figure out if this guy is for real or if I’m just being foolish.”
Jenna set her sketchpad on the table. “Never ignore your instincts. They pick up more than you realize.”
Pamela’s face relaxed a fraction as if she needed to hear the validation. “Thanks. That’s good to hear.”
Jenna turned to Detective Morgan. “I always work alone. I don’t allow anyone else in the room while I work, even other cops.”
Rick arched a brow as if he couldn’t quite believe she was kicking him out of this party.