“That’s how you’re going to play this? Last chance, dickhead.”
There was a brief hesitation, and then Sam’s voice came again. Angry this time. “You aren’t going to kill me. I’m the one who keeps the Flanagans’ asses out of trouble with the law. They need me. They need what I do to keep the heat off their side hustle.”
“You talk too much, you know that?”
“Yeah, and I’m gonna talk louder. I know where the bodies are buried, so you’d better fucking get out of here with that shit before I slip up on the paperwork.”
Jenna heard what sounded like two pops. “Yeah, yeah, asshole,” the man said. “Nobody’s that special.”
Sam didn’t speak again, and Jenna slipped into the restroom, hurrying into a stall and perching on top of the toilet, her heart hammering as her ears pounded with blood. She listened hard—and then she heard footsteps in the hall. The bathroom door opened. She held her breath, praying.
When it closed again, she nearly cried with relief. She perched on top of the toilet, shaking for a good twenty minutes before she felt brave enough to creep out.
The office was empty, the food still on the counter—thank God the sandwiches were cold and not hot or the killer might have known she was there from the fragrance.
Sam was at his desk where she’d last seen him, his body reclining in the chair, eyes wide open. There was a small hole in the fabric of his shirt, right over his heart, and one in his head, between the eyes.
Jenna had lost the contents of her stomach then called the police.
She shuddered as she remembered that night. The endless questions, the suspicion, the hours spent writing her statement. But she had no weapon and no powder burns, and the police finally acknowledged she wasn’t a suspect.
She’d never told them what she’d heard, because she suddenly knew what the Flanagans were capable of and she’d been terrified. And Sam had been a part of it, which made it even worse.
Sam, who’d been so nice to her. Who’d plucked her from the day care center and given her a chance. She’d felt betrayed and confused by what she’d heard him saying about money and knowing where the bodies were. And she wasn’t able to identify the man in his office anyway. She’d never seen him. It wasn’t until the police arrested him for a different murder and she’d heard his voice on television, denying the charges, that she’d realized who he was. Her blood had gone cold at the sound, but she still hadn’t talked.
It wasn’t safe to speak the Flanagan name, much less admit everything she’d heard. Prison was prison, and she’d assumed Owen Fisher was going to be in it for a very long time based on what he’d allegedly done. The police had claimed to have an airtight case, and they’d held him without bail until the trial. Which had just gone sideways, apparently.
She looked at the headline again. Free.
Dread filled her. Was it a coincidence he was free and someone had called Aunt Maggie? Maybe. Maybe not.
“Pee-pee,” Alice shouted. “Pee-pee!”
Jenna jumped up and went to where the little girl stood with her hand clutched to her crotch, trying to hold it in. She’d been playing with her stuffed animals, bringing them to Jenna and chattering, and now she was doing the pee-pee dance. Progress.
“Good girl, Alice,” Jenna said, taking her to the bathroom and helping her get her pants off so she could sit on the potty chair.
When she was done, Jenna helped her wipe then got her dressed again. “Such a good little girl, Alice. You did a perfect job.”
“Cookie?”
Jenna shook her head. “Not yet, honey. After dinner.”
She knew better than to get in the habit of giving the child treats for using the potty. Next thing you knew, she’d be using it when she didn’t have to just to get a treat.
“We have our stamp kit though. You get a stamp for using the potty like a big girl.” Jenna took out the stamps and washable ink. “How about a cherry this time?”
“Yes,” Alice said, nodding her head enthusiastically.
Jenna stamped her hand, then blew on it so it dried. “We’ll count them up at the end of the day, okay? It will be so exciting!”
When Alice was occupied with her toys again, Jenna sank into the chair and watched, her eyes tearing over. She’d been taking care of Alice for almost three weeks, and she was getting attached. It was hard not to when she saw parallels to her own life. Losing her parents, being alone. Alice needed love and patience and a place to grow into herself, not another upheaval.
Yet, Jenna feared it was time to go. Time to run again and pray Owen Fisher didn’t start looking for her. This time she’d change her name entirely. She’d look into getting fake papers, a fake ID, and she’d cut off communication with Aunt Maggie. Maybe she should have done those things in the first place, but it had seemed so final. Like she would never be Jenna again if she took that step. Her old life would be gone forever, and she’d always be in hiding.
This time, she would remake herself into someone new, and she wouldn’t miss the life she’d started in Mystic Cove. She wouldn’t miss Noah or Alice, wouldn’t miss Vicki at the diner, or Mrs. Hanley and Mr. Pruitt. She swiped beneath her eyes, irritated with herself for getting emotional.
She’d been in town for more than three months. It wasn’t a tragedy to leave now. Except she needed to give Noah time, which meant she needed to tell him she was going. She couldn’t just leave him with Alice with no notice. He was trying so hard to do the right thing for the little girl.
Jenna gritted her teeth. She had a little time, but not much, and she needed a plan. She’d tell Noah she was going to go take care of Aunt Maggie and that she needed to leave soon. That way he’d have a chance to get Alice into day care on the military base and she’d be able to get that new battery for Lola.
It would take a week—maybe a little longer—for everything to fall in place. Then she’d drive away and not look back.
Chapter Eleven
It was Friday, and Noah was frustrated. He’d spent the last few days trying to find the right way to ask Jenna questions about her past, but it never seemed to happen. Whenever he got home, she had dinner ready to go, or almost ready, and Alice was busy showing him her drawings and her toys from the day.
She was learning to use the potty more often, and she had to show him that too. And damn if his heart wasn’t melting a little more each day for the kid. He could see Sally in her, and it just about broke him.
“Did you know this was going to happen, Sally?” he’d muttered more than once. “Did you know it was going to be hard for me to give her up when you made that damned will?”
She probably had. Sally hadn’t been stupid. She’d just been overwhelmed by life. She’d known that giving her child to Noah was the smartest and best thing she could have done. Of course she hadn’t expected it to happen, but when she’d thought of the possibilities, he’d been first.
His emotions were a tangle every time he thought about it. He put off asking Jenna any questions while he grappled with his thoughts. Now it was Friday and they’d hardly spoken about anything but Alice all week. He’d almost felt as if she was avoiding him. Maybe that was why she’d disappeared to her room every evening once Alice was down for the night.