* * *
Driving through Trailside Grove, Greg battled to make sense of the turmoil swirling in his head.
Was Jenn cheating with Sellwin? Was that why she’d been so cool and distant? Was it my fault? Have I been so consumed with losing contracts I ignored her? Could it all be related to her disappearance?
“No,” he said aloud to no one. “No way. She wouldn’t do this to Jake.”
But what if it was true?
Ripplewood Creek was the first search point Greg went to. While several days had passed, his anguish was as raw as the night Jenn had vanished. Spotting Doug Tucker at the volunteer command post, he asked about Sellwin. Tucker flipped through pages on a clipboard.
“Porter Sellwin, right? He’d be with the school group,” Tucker said. “No, they didn’t sign in here. Greg, want me to check the other zones?”
“Yes.”
Tucker got on a walkie-talkie, enquired with search posts in Trailside Grove, Cardinal, and Noble Haven. Greg glanced around at the activity in Ripplewood. Some of the coordinators waved their support. Greg nodded his thanks, while privately he wondered how much longer before they gave up looking for Jenn.
“Got it,” Tucker said. “Whisper Wind Park.”
* * *
The park was less than two miles south of Greg’s home.
It was in the new neighborhood of Whispering Valley, adjacent to the Harriet Tubman School. He parked at the school, went to the command post, and got directions to find the volunteer group from Tall Elm.
Whisper Wind Park was rugged; large homes backed onto it with the chain-link fences of their backyards bordering the trails necklacing the forest, which snaked through the community.
The dense woods held valleys, waterfalls, ledges, and outcroppings sweeping in dramatic slopes down into ravines and creeks. Here, sunlight was dimmed, the air smelled of moist earth. The murmur of voices, the crack of a branch, and swish of leaves carried through the park. He saw flashes of colors, spotting searchers.
Looking for Sellwin, Greg fought doubts.
Is this the right thing to do? Have I given way to my anger, exhaustion, and guilt? But I got a bad vibe about Sellwin and when I think of him with his hands on Jenn—
“Greg?”
He turned to Bert Cobb.
“Hi, Bert.”
Assessing him, Cobb said, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I wanted to talk to Porter Sellwin.”
“Sellwin?”
“Is the school still letting everyone search? Because Jake went back today.”
“They let us rotate in shifts, like half days there and half days here, all to support Jennifer. How’re you and Jake holding up?”
“It’s hard, Bert.”
“I hear you, but you can’t give up.”
“Thanks.”
“Sellwin’s down there.” Cobb pointed to a small valley, about thirty yards off. “In the blue shirt. I was searching with him.”
Finding a branch to use as a walking stick and stepping carefully, Greg made his way, getting near enough for Sellwin to turn in surprise.
“Hello, Greg.” He flashed a smile.
Greg looked around quickly to ensure they were alone, tightened his grip while leaning on the branch.
“Sellwin, I want to talk to you about Jenn.”
Sellwin’s smile faded; his eyes conveyed curiosity.
“What is it?”
“You’ve worked closely with her.”
“Of course, on committees, school policies.”
“But it was more than that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I have a witness who saw you with my wife.”
“A witness? Saw what?”
“You were touching her.”
“Touching her? What’re you talking about?”
“You know damned well what I’m talking about.”
“No, I don’t. Greg, you’re upset. You look like you haven’t slept.”
“There’s something going on with you and Jenn.”
Greg stabbed Sellwin’s chest hard with his forefinger.
Sellwin’s Adam’s apple rose and fell.
“Look,” Sellwin said, “I don’t know what Jennifer told you but—”
“What she told me? What do you mean?”
Sellwin’s eyes shifted then came back to Greg.
“Tell me what you were doing with my wife.”
“Greg, there’s nothing to tell.”
“You’re lying. I know about you!”
Greg jabbed Sellwin’s chest again with his finger. This time, something in Sellwin clicked. His body tensed, his face hardened, his eyes narrowed.
“Be careful, Greg.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Don’t do something you’ll regret.”
Sellwin’s smile detonated Greg’s wrath, and he raised the branch over his head.
“You’re a lying piece of—”
Greg couldn’t move the branch. It was frozen. Bert Cobb had taken hold of it from behind.
Sellwin walked away, shaking his head.
Greg hesitated then let go of the branch, his chest heaving, his teeth still gritted.
“Greg.” Cobb watched Sellwin get some distance from them then said, “Calm down. You’re stressed.” Cobb lowered his voice, ensuring Sellwin was out of earshot. “If you unload on him and he presses charges, where does that leave Jake?”
Letting out a breath, Greg nodded his thanks to Cobb.
In the distance, he saw a TV camera aimed at him. Cursing to himself, he dragged his hands over his face when his phone rang.
It was his Dad. “Get home right now!”
Thirty-Seven
Buffalo, New York, Trailside Grove
Several police vehicles and news trucks were clustered in front of Greg’s house.
So was Kat’s Ready Quick Courier van, white with chartreuse stripes. She must’ve rushed over from work.
Fear for Jake rose in Greg’s throat.
Was he home? Oh God, did they find Jenn?
Passing through the newspeople, ignoring questions, Greg got to his front door as troopers wearing latex gloves carried boxes and paper bags of his belongings out of his house. He sidestepped some of the troopers at the entrance where he found Vince holding documents in his hand.