“Do we really need to do this on a Friday night?” Leighton complained, closing her personal laptop.
“Well, it’s due next week. When else would we finish the project?”
Leighton rolled her eyes.
“I told you,” Jenna continued, “I don’t have any other free time. I hardly have time to breathe with school and cross country.”
“Fine,” Leighton said. She slid the poster she’d started in front of her and surveyed the layout.
“It looks great,” Jenna said. “I’ll open the notes we took on Wednesday so we can see if everything important is on it.”
A few minutes later, Leighton’s mom emerged from the stairway. “Oh, hi, Jenna! What are you girls up to tonight?”
“Hi, Abigail. We’re just finishing up a project.”
“Wow, homework on a Friday night. I’ve never seen Leighton do that before.” She gave Leighton’s shoulder a squeeze as she walked past the girls toward the kitchen. Leighton rolled her eyes and kept working. Abigail continued to talk as she rummaged around in the kitchen. “Leighton, I’m going to stop at Blake’s house after work tonight, but I’ll be home before you wake up in the morning. Make sure you remember to lock the door if you go anywhere.”
Leighton sighed. “Yeah, okay.”
“Did you see you got a letter from your father? I left it on the counter for you.” Abigail slid the letter onto the table next to Leighton as she breezed past on her way to the front door. “See you girls, later. Good luck with the project.”
The entire time Abigail had been talking, Leighton didn’t stop working on the poster, but as soon as her mom closed the door behind her, she was on her feet. She disappeared upstairs for a minute and emerged from the stairway holding a pipe to her mouth with one hand and lighting it up with the other.
“Leighton? What the hell just happened?” Jenna asked, her hands still poised on the keyboard of her Chromebook.
Leighton didn’t respond. Instead, she set her pipe down on the table next to Jenna’s things and picked up the letter from her dad. Then she lit the corner of it on fire as she made her way into the kitchen.
Jenna sprung out of her seat, unsure if she was seeing things or not. She turned the corner into the kitchen just in time to see Leighton holding the burning letter over the sink.
“Leighton, what are you doing?” Jenna asked, a sense of urgency in her tone.
Again, Leighton ignored her. When there was only about an inch left before the flames would reach her fingers, Leighton doused what was left of the letter under running water. She opened the cabinet under the sink and dropped the letter in the garbage, then she squeezed past Jenna and returned to the dining room for her pipe.
Jenna followed to find Leighton taking another hit from her pipe.
“Do you want some?” Leighton asked, holding out the pipe and lighter to Jenna.
“Are you serious?” Jenna asked, incredulous. “You haven’t said a word to me since before your mom came downstairs, and that’s what you’re going to start with? How about telling me why you burned that letter from your dad and why you’re always such a bitch to your mom?”
“Look, no offense, but I don’t want to talk about it. Okay?”
Jenna nodded.
“So, do you want a hit or what?” Leighton held the pipe and lighter out to Jenna again.
“No,” Jenna shook her head, “I can’t. I have a meet tomorrow morning.”
“Have you ever tried it?”
“Kind of,” Jenna said with a grin.
“What do mean, kind of?”
“It was last year at Jolliet, the park not far from school. Delaney was the one who really wanted to do it, so she bought a joint for ten dollars from this kid at our school who sells everything.”
“She got ripped off,” Leighton interjected.
Jenna smiled and continued. “So, when it was my turn to take a hit, I pretty much just held the smoke in my mouth and inhaled as little as possible. I found out later that Keeley did the same thing, but Delaney really did it and was out of it. She barely said a word the rest of the night.”
“Well, if you want to feel relaxed and get a good night’s sleep, maybe you should try some for real. No biggie if you don’t. That just means there’s more for me,” Leighton said, setting the pipe and lighter down on the table and sitting back down in front of the poster to finish up.
The thought of feeling relaxed and getting a good night’s sleep appealed to Jenna. She liked that the Tylenol PM she’d been taking made her feel that way, but it also caused her to feel groggy in the morning, so it took her longer to get moving. “How do you feel in the morning . . . after you smoke?” she asked.
“I feel great,” Leighton said, glancing over at Jenna for a second.
Jenna reached for the pipe and lighter and stared at them in her hands as she sat back down. Then she mimicked the way Leighton put the pipe to her lips and inhaled as she held the flame over the pot. Unlike the year before when she barely inhaled a thing, this time she allowed every bit of smoke possible into her lungs. It was only a few seconds before she erupted into a coughing fit, expelling the smoke in bursts.
“Geez, Jenna, take it easy. Don’t inhale so much if you try it again,” Leighton said, not even looking up from the poster.
Jenna’s second try went much smoother, and within minutes, she was feeling calm and numb all over her body. Yet somehow, she was still able to focus on her work. She looked over at Leighton, stoned out of her mind, and secretly thanked her.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Jacob Bickers
Monday, October 30, 2017
Three Days After Jenna’s Disappearance
I’m jarred awake by something other than the daily alarm I have set on my phone. And it isn’t the smell of the coffee that wakes me up. It’s the sounds of my life. My two-year-old whining because he’s hungry. My five-year-old arguing because he’s been told to change into clothes that match. The dog barking to go outside. My wife hollering at the kids, the dog, and herself for forgetting about the wet clothes in the washing machine last night. The sound of dishes being unloaded and loaded into the dishwasher. The sound of the machine that helps my mother-in-law breathe. I wake up every morning to these sounds that are my life.
“Daddy!” my son Brady yells as he leaps into my arms. “I didn’t know you were home.”
“Yep. My flight got in late last night, so you were snug as a bug by the time I got here.”
“Jacob, he needs to finish eating,” my wife, Julie, says. She means no harm, but I still feel a twinge of resentment when she says it.
I nod and ruffle Brady’s hair before he jolts back to the table to finish his Gorilla Munch. Then I adjust my tie because it feels a little tight, but it still feels constrictive even after it’s loosened. I can’t help but compare the feeling to my life in general.
“Oh no,” Julie says, stopping to look up at the small flat-screen TV mounted above our refrigerator. Brady and I both follow her gaze because it’s rare for her to take pause in the middle of our morning frenzy.
When I see the picture on the TV screen, I choke on the sip of coffee I’ve just taken. It’s a picture of the girl I was supposed to meet on Friday night. I’ve only caught the tail end of what the newscaster was saying, but the caption underneath her picture is enough to make my tie feel like it’s just come to life and plans to strangle the life out of me.
Missing 16-year-old Girl
Sixteen years old? No, no, no, no. She said she was nineteen.
When Jenna’s picture disappears, Julie returns to her morning routine and laments over how sad the news is nowadays. Then Brady pipes in with several questions Julie couldn’t possibly answer. Why did they show that girl, Mom? Where did she go? Will the police look for her?
Oh, God. What if they come here looking for her?
I quickly place the cap on my travel mug, grab a banana and my bag, and head for the back door.
“Jacob? The schoo
l bus will be here in five minutes. Don’t you have time to walk Brady to his stop?”
“I, uh . . . I can’t. I have to go,” I say, rushing over to kiss Brady on the head. Then I stop at the Pack ’n Play and give my toddler son, Sam, a quick pat on the head.
“Uh, Jacob?” Julie calls out.
I look back from the door and find her tapping her cheek, so I rush back over and place a peck right above her freshly manicured nail.
When I’m finally alone in my car, I lean forward and place my forehead on the steering wheel. I think about all the things the police could find that would connect me to Jenna and realize the situation is hopeless. People are going to find out.
I lean back and reach into my bag for my phone but change my mind. Instead, I unlock the glove compartment and retrieve my other phone, figuring there’s no sense incriminating myself with an Internet search to find out what they know already about Jenna.
I type in ‘missing 16 yr old girl briarwood wi’ and the first result is an article posted by the same local network that just aired Jenna’s picture. The same photo is displayed above the article.
POLICE are seeking public assistance to help locate a 16-year-old girl missing from Briarwood.
Jenna Kemp was last seen shortly before 9 p.m., Friday, October 27, near the 1600 block of Fairmount Avenue, and has not contacted family since.
Kemp has light brown hair and brown eyes. She’s 5’ 4”, weighs approximately 130 pounds, and was last seen wearing black leggings and a gray Briarwood High Cross Country hoodie with navy blue trim.
Police are appealing for Jenna or anyone with further information to contact local authorities.
If you have information for police, contact the Briarwood Police Department directly at 414-555-0189 or provide information using the online form 24 hours per day.
You can report information about crime anonymously to Crime Stoppers, a registered charity and community volunteer organization, by calling 1800 222-TIPS or via www.crimestoppersusa.org 24 hours per day.
I take a few deep breaths, attempting to release some of the panic I’m feeling when I see that police are appealing for Jenna to contact local authorities. Could this mean they don’t suspect anything has happened to her? Could it mean they think she ran away? I scroll down to see if there are any comments on the article and my stomach drops when I see there are already nearly a dozen. The most recent one sends me back into a crippling state of panic.
Dizzy Beaver says: When was the last time a teen from Briarwood ran away? I call FOUL PLAY. Someone knows where this girl is, and the lazy Briarwood PD is about to have a ton of pressure dropped on them if they don’t find out who.
I jump and reflexively slide my burner phone between my legs when there’s a knock on my window. Julie is holding Sam and peeks in at me with a hard stare. Brady smiles and waves. I wave back and then watch in my side mirror as my family walks down the driveway. This situation could turn our whole lives upside down, so I need to do damage control before it’s too late.
I compose myself and then head back inside to wait for Julie.
“Jacob?” Julie hollers when she enters the house.
“In here,” I say from the living room.
“What’s going on? Why are you still here?”
“Can you please put Sam back in his playpen and sit down over here for a bit? I need to talk to you about something.”
“Okay.” She disappears into the kitchen to put Sam down to play with his toys. When she returns and takes a set next to me on the sofa, she says, “You have to make this quick, though. I need to give Mom her meds soon.”
I nod and take a deep breath. “So, that missing girl they reported about this morning?”
“Yeah? It’s very sad. What about her?”
“Well . . .” I turn my body a little more to face her. “I know her.”
“What do you mean you know her? How’s that possible?”
“Look, Julie, I did something stupid.”
Julie stiffens, but she remains silent, her lips form a thin line.
“So . . .” I swallow hard and selfishly wish for a heart attack. “I’ve been feeling lonely. Because . . . we’re always so busy with your mom and the kids, and the baby on the way. So I—”
Julie jumps up, causing me to flinch. “What are you talking about, Jacob? Just spit it all out,” she says through gritted teeth.
“Okay, okay,” I hold up my hands, a plea for her to calm down. “I started using this chat room a few months ago. It started out just as a way to pass the time when I was overnight for work, and then I started using it more and more and making connections with people. Jenna was someone I chatted with.”
“You’re having an affair with a sixteen-year-old, Jacob?” she screams.
We both look toward the kitchen where Sam fusses a little. When we hear him go back to playing with his toys, I continue.
“No, I’m not having an affair.” Not anymore.
“Then what do you call chatting with other women—no, GIRLS—online? And do you know where she is? Did you have anything to do with her disappearance? Is that what you’re getting at? Because I will turn you in so fast your head will spin.”
“No. No, no, no.” I stand and reach for her, but she recoils. “It was just innocent conversation and a sore lapse in judgement on my part. That’s all. I never met any of them, and only talked to Jenna on the phone a few times.”
“Ohhhh, my God, Jacob.” She clutches her forehead and begins breathing heavily.
“I didn’t know she was only sixteen. I swear.”
“Wait, the news said she was last seen Friday night. Were you really out of town for work on Friday night?”
This is where things could turn very bad, so I don’t know whether to tell her the truth this time. I need her as an alibi if it comes to that, so my answer to this question is crucial. “No. The truth is I was feeling stressed and just needed some time to myself, so I got a hotel room over in Brown Deer, just to decompress.” Thank God I paid cash.
“So why are you telling me this?”
“Because they’ll probably look into her social media accounts if she isn’t located soon, which means they’ll probably find out I was talking to her . . .”
“And what? You want me to lie for you? Say you were here all night?” She asks, tears now streaming down her cheeks. “How can I do that when you could be lying to me? When you could have had something to do with her disappearance?
“That’s ridiculous. I wouldn’t—”
“You wouldn’t what?”
“I wouldn’t hurt someone. You know that.”
“Do I, though? I didn’t know you were making connections with other people behind my back—behind our children’s backs,” she seethes. “Hell, I didn’t even know you were lonely. I thought things were fine with us.”
“Please, Julie. Think about how bad this will look if they find out I stayed in a hotel that night and lied to you about having to work. I swear. I just had to clear my head. Don’t let this tear our family apart,” I plead.
“You’ve done that all on your own, Jacob,” Julie says as she storms off into the kitchen, leaving me by myself on my knees in the middle of the living room floor.
Chapter Thirty
Saturday, September 16, 2017
Six Weeks Before Jenna’s Disappearance
“Hey, Corbin,” Jenna leaned into him and whispered, “can I have some?” They were at Jolliet, and Jenna had been with her friends just moments before. She knew right away what Corbin was doing when she spotted him all by himself on a log on the outskirts of the tree line.
He exhaled all the smoke in his mouth and then looked over at her, their faces only a few inches apart “Dude, you’re not gonna freak out like you did that one night, are you?” He looked around to make sure no one else was near them and then scanned their group of friends about twenty yards away to make sure no one was watching.
“Corbin, I’ll be fine.” She hoped he’d s
hare his pot with her because she badly needed something to calm her nerves, and the two beers she already drank didn’t seem to be helping at all. She knew right away when Keeley found her way over to Eli within minutes of their arrival that it was going to be a rough night. If she’d known Eli was going to be there, she’d have declined going to the outing at Jolliet or asked if she could use her parents’ car. At least then she could have left whenever she wanted to, but now she was stuck watching Keeley and Eli flirt with each other.
Corbin handed her the joint, and she inhaled her first drag with caution. She didn’t want to embarrass herself by hacking up a lung like she had the night before at Leighton’s. Her second drag was much deeper and produced the effect she was hoping for. She handed the joint back to Corbin and stayed put next to him on the log. She wished she could just sit there in that spot for the next two hours until Delaney and Keeley were ready to go, but she knew that would never happen.
“So, where’s Dustin?” Corbin asked.
Jenna exhaled a sigh. She hadn’t seen Dustin the night before because he’d gone to a Brewers game with his dad at Miller Park, and that night, he’d agreed to work a late shift at the bike shop. “Working. Apparently. There’s an indoor triathlon going on at Marquette next weekend so the bike shop is crazy busy.”
Corbin nodded and passed the joint back to Jenna. She wondered if maybe two hits were enough for her, but she took it anyway. Just as she was passing it back to Corbin, Delaney and Tina approached, both giggling and walking erratically. Neither of them was drunk. It was simply the result of two silly girls high on life and being in their teens.
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