Deadly Revenge (Pearl River #3)

Chapter 58

58

Jenna pulled into her grandmother’s drive, and Max checked his watch. “It’s only 7:30. Are you certain Eva is up?”

“Yes. I’ve already talked to her once, but I want to make sure she’s okay.”

The aroma of cinnamon rolls reached them when her grandmother opened the door dressed in her blue robe and house slippers. “Has there been any word?”

“Not yet,” Jenna said as they stepped inside the house. She hugged her grandmother. “How are you?”

“Praying. And baking.”

That’s what Jenna expected her to say. “We’ll find him.”

“I know. God has this—it didn’t take him by surprise.”

Jenna wished her faith was as strong as her grandmother’s. But this was her dad. And she’d seen the worst people were capable of, especially someone like Sebastian ... or Phillip.

“When did you see him last?”

“He stopped by here on his way home from the post office. Said he was going to take a nap before he drove to the woods.”

That’s what Sam had told her last night both before and after they knew he was missing.

“Come on to the kitchen,” Granna said. “Have you two eaten? I have rolls and coffee.”

“I don’t want anything,” Jenna said as she and Max followed. Putting food or coffee in her roiling stomach was more than she could do.

“How about you, Max?”

“I’ll take a cup of coffee.”

She sat at the table and picked at her cuticles while Granna poured Max’s coffee. Then she set a roll in front of him. “And one for you, Missy. You need to keep your strength up.”

Jenna palmed her hands. “I’m sorry, Granna, I can’t.”

The back door scraped open and they all turned toward it as Sam entered the room.

“Have you found him yet?”

“No.” Jenna blinked back tears.

“Have you remembered anything that might help us?” Max asked.

Sam flattened his lips. “No. Yesterday was like every other day—Randy stopped by the house, said he was going home to take a nap first, then he’d come to the woods. Said he’d call us if he couldn’t find us. But he never showed. And I didn’t see anyone at his house when I left.”

Jenna rubbed her hands on her pants. They needed to be doing something more productive, like checking out Tom Weaver’s recent rentals. She stood. “I’m ready if you are.”

Max nodded. “If either of you hear anything, call us.”

By midmorning Friday, Jenna’s neck muscles were tight enough to break as she pulled away from one of Weaver’s rentals—another dead end. A tension headache threatened, but at least they’d checked off two of the addresses Tom Weaver had given them of recent rentals, this one and another, both families with small children.

They’d also phone interviewed three heirs of the families who’d sold their land to TerraQuest, including the one where Max had left a note for them to call. For what good it’d done them—not one of the families they’d talked to knew anything about the company.

The next address would take them five miles past her house. Jenna felt in the console for ibuprofen and found an empty bottle. She glanced toward Max. “Do you mind if we stop by my house on the way to the next place?”

“Headache?”

“How did you know?” She rubbed her temple.

“That.” He pointed to her action. “And I’ve noticed you massaging your neck.”

Jenna dropped her hand. “I guess tossing and turning instead of sleeping has caught up with me.”

“I’m good with stopping, and then I’ll drive if you’d like.”

She nodded, and ten minutes later, Jenna turned into her drive. She checked the front door while Max checked the back.

“Tape was fine on the back door,” he said when he returned.

“Here too. Shouldn’t be any surprises waiting on us,” she said, pointing toward the tape still in place.

“Right.”

Pain shot through her right temple. She closed her eye and pressed her fingers to her cheekbone. If she didn’t take something fast, she was in for a full-blown tension headache. As soon as she had the door opened, she hurried through to the kitchen, filled a glass of water, and opened her cabinet to grab the ibuprofen.

Jenna froze.

“What is it?”

Before she could stop herself, she blurted, “Sebastian has been here—he rearranged my bottles.”

Max joined her. “Are you sure—”

“Of course I’m sure. I’ve been meaning to organize my cabinets, but I haven’t had time. Besides, I would know if I’d done this!” She pointed to the neatly arranged bottles. “If you don’t believe me, look at my pantry.”

Jenna flung open the pantry door and stared at the neat rows of canned goods, the boxes of cereal lined up together. A chill raced up her spine. Jenna turned to Max. “You’ve seen my cabinets—they look nothing like this!”

He shook his head. “You’ve always had the cereal and the coffee on the counter, waiting for me.”

That’s right, she had.

“What if Sebastian found the photos.” Jenna whirled around. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll check the windows.” Max followed her down the hall.

“I’ll check the ones in this bedroom.” Jenna quickly knelt beside the false receptacle. The tape was still intact.

The pounding in her chest eased only slightly, and she examined the windows. Both locked down tight. She walked back to the kitchen.

Max returned a few minutes later. “All the windows I checked are locked, and I’m assuming the ones in the bedroom—”

“They’re locked.”

It didn’t make sense. Everything was locked up tight—how had someone gotten in and lined up the medicine in her cabinet and rearranged what was in her pantry?

“Did you examine the back door?”

“No.”

Max walked to the back door and tried to open it. “If someone was here, how did they get in?”

“I don’t know,” she said.

“Does anyone else have a key?”

“Granna does.” Hope fluttered in her chest. “She’d do something like this—but not today, not with Dad missing.”

“Call and make sure—she may have needed something to take her mind off what’s happened.”

That had to be the answer. Jenna jerked her phone out and punched in her grandmother’s number. “Hey, Granna,” she said when her grandmother answered. “Have you been to my house today?”

“No, dear. I haven’t left the house since you were here. Why do you ask?”

Jenna gripped the phone. “No reason ... I just thought maybe you’d straightened up my cabinets.”

“No, I’ve been right here, baking a pound cake for the meal after the funeral. I just took it from the oven.”

Jenna braced herself with the table. “Thanks, Granna. If I have any news about Dad, I’ll call you. Otherwise, we’ll see you at the funeral.” She disconnected. “I guess you could tell that Granna hasn’t been here.”

“I’ll dust for prints.”

Max didn’t believe anyone had been here. Oh, he said the right words, all right. It was his tone that said he was humoring her.

“No need,” she said, brushing him off. “Whoever did this would’ve worn gloves. Are you ready to go to the next place?”

“Aren’t you going to take something for your headache?”

“I forgot.”

Her hand froze as she reached for the bottle of ibuprofen. He’d handled her bottles. What if he’d switched the pills out with heroin—no, the ibuprofen were caplets. They would be safe.

She wasn’t letting whoever did this control her. She grabbed the bottle, uncapped it, and swallowed two pills with a gulp of water. “I’m ready.”

Max followed her out the front door and waited while she placed a new piece of tape at the top. When they reached her SUV, he cleared his throat. “We need to talk about the elephant in the room.”

“I don’t see that there’s anything to talk about. I think someone has been in my house and you don’t.”

“I would if there was some sort of proof.”

She waved her hand toward the house. “The cabinets aren’t proof enough for you? I’ve never organized my cabinets like that. The more I think about it, something about the intruder’s voice makes me believe it was Sebastian in my room.”

“But—”

“I don’t know how he’s getting into the house. Maybe he picks the lock. We both know that’s possible.”

“Yes,” Max said slowly. “But how does he get out of the house? It takes time to pick a lock. And why would he close the door when he left? That would take even more time.”

“I don’t know how he does it, but he’s getting in my house someway.” She caught his gaze and held it. “I didn’t rearrange my cabinets—I’m not crazy.”

“Jenna, I don’t think you’re crazy.”

“You couldn’t prove it by me.” She turned and opened the driver’s door. A sudden rush of tears had her blinking furiously.

“Somehow I always thought you’d have my back,” she said, her voice breaking.

The next thing Jenna knew, he’d turned her around and pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry ... it’s just that I’m worried. You’ve been through so much the last few years. Getting shot, Phillip, changing jobs, and now your dad—with your history, it’s enough to trigger PTSD...”

Jenna felt him take a deep breath.

“But, I do believe you,” he said softly. “If you know someone was in your house, then we’ll find out how he’s getting in.”

That’s when the dam broke. He held her close, rubbing her back as she cried. Finally she pulled away. “I’m so sorry—”

“Don’t apologize. It’s only a shirt.”

“At least I don’t wear makeup,” she said, taking the handkerchief he gave her to blot her eyes. “And we need to get back to figuring out who has my dad. And who TerraQuest belongs to.”

“For today, forget TerraQuest—your dad and what’s going on here is our top priority.” He was quiet as he thought. “You said your grandmother has a key. Maybe she made an extra one and someone took it. Who else has a key?”

“Just my dad ... oh, wait—I have a spare hanging inside the cabinet over the stove.”

“Is it still there?”

“We can check.” They returned to the house, and she opened the cabinet door. The three keys she kept there—one for Granna’s house, her dad’s, and her spare—were all there and hanging in their normal places.

“So much for that theory,” Jenna said. “And we need to table this and check out the rest of Tom Weaver’s rentals.”

Max agreed with her, and they returned to her SUV. “Why don’t I drive and you navigate?”

“Good idea.” She climbed into the passenger side and booted up her GPS. “We need to stay on this road for two miles, then turn to the right.”

They’d passed her grandmother’s house when Max said, “I can’t get your intruder off my mind and how he has access to your house. It doesn’t make sense, unless ...”

Jenna turned to him. “Unless what?”

“Unless he took the key that first morning and had a spare made. That would explain how the deadbolt was always locked after he left. Where would he go to get a key made?”

Jenna tapped her fingers on the armrest. “The key I had made for Dad and Granna came from Walmart, but the hardware store duplicates them as well.”

“Let’s call them.”

Jenna called Walmart first and learned the store’s key duplicator had been down for two weeks, waiting on a part to repair it. The local hardware store had made a few keys but didn’t remember making one for a stranger.

“That was a strikeout,” Jenna said.

“Where’s the next closest Walmart?” he asked.

She named a town thirty miles away. “Then there’s Chattanooga...”

“Call and ask Alex if she can get someone to check out the other stores in a thirty-mile radius of Pearl Springs and have them show Sebastian’s photo.”

She punched in Alex’s number, and the chief deputy agreed with them, promising to check right away.

“Alex will let us know what she learns,” Jenna said and pocketed her phone. “Turn right at the next road.”

Max turned at the road she indicated. “I’ve been thinking about that day I found you unconscious, and I remembered something from when I took judo—there’s a way to knock someone out by striking them with a hard karate chop to one of their pressure points ... like the base of the skull.”

She gasped. “That’s the spot that was tender!”

He nodded. “Our sensei wouldn’t let us practice it, but he showed a video of someone using it. The person who received a karate chop at the base of the skull went down like a sack of potatoes. If it happened to a person and they weren’t expecting it, they probably wouldn’t know what hit them.”

She closed her eyes and released a breath. “So I’m not having PTSD.”

“But someone wanted you to think you were—you were set up.”

Jenna opened her eyes and turned to him. “The only person who would benefit by people thinking I’d lost it is Phillip.”

“He probably has help,” Max said.

“Sebastian.”