by Becky Durfee
“Are you kidding me?” Jenny demanded as she rushed toward the urn, whose bottom half was covered in a layer of dirt. She picked it up and immediately began to brush it off, cursing her ex-husband under her breath. He was such an asshole. Birdhouse in hand, she turned around to head back to her car, only to find Greg standing there, looking at her with an expression of distinct displeasure.
“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked.
“What the hell am I doing? What the hell were you doing when you put this urn with all of this junk?”
“It’s a birdhouse,” he said. “And it’s junk.”
“It is not just a birdhouse, and it’s absolutely not junk. This once housed Elanor Whitby’s remains…you know, that woman whose fortune you’ve been spending on yourself.”
“Okay, first of all I didn’t know that. And second of all, just what makes you think you can come onto my property and snoop around without permission?”
Contempt rose within her, reminiscent of vomit. She swallowed it down before saying, “Will you get off your high horse please? I just want this urn—which is obviously of no value to you anyway—and I didn’t want to bother you.” The truth was that Jenny didn’t want to see him, but unfortunately that ship had already sailed.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Greg replied arrogantly. “In the future, if you’re going to come here, I’d like you to ask for my permission first. Cindy might be here, and your presence might make her uncomfortable.”
“How about this,” Jenny said angrily. “How about I just never come back?”
“Even better,” Greg said. “I really see no reason for you to be here anymore anyway.”
The fact that she once loved this man was mindboggling to her. “Excellent. We’re in agreement, then.” With the urn firmly in her grasp, she walked around Greg and headed back to her car.
She still felt overwhelmed with anger as she started to drive away. At first the animosity was directed at her arrogant ex-husband, but then—as always—she turned the lens on herself. Why did she always let him get to her like that? She knew how he was. Why was she always surprised and irritated by the way he acted? Shouldn’t she have just expected that type of interaction by now?
“Stop letting him bother you,” Jenny said to herself as she drove in the direction of the store. “If he gets to you this much, he wins.”
If only she could heed her own advice.
Jenny stood in the changing room with her two favorite bathing suits from the rack…one maternity, one not. Considering she was only four months pregnant and just starting to show, she decided to go with the regular suit first. After putting on the one-piece bathing suit, she looked in the mirror and crinkled her nose. “Oh dear,” she said out loud. Things were worse than she had thought.
Her belly didn’t look pregnant; it just looked big. Her hips had widened as well. She spun around to get a look at her rear end in the mirror and once again spoke out loud, “Holy mother of God.” She hadn’t looked at that part of her body in a long time, and apparently there’d been a lot of changes going on. While she’d always battled cellulite, now it seemed to have taken over the entire back half of her body. She had no idea she’d looked this bad. She hung her head when she considered that Zack had been looking at her all along, and he was fully aware of just how far things had come. She desperately hoped this was a symptom of pregnancy and would subside after she gave birth in November.
“Okay, then, the maternity suit.” She realized she would most likely look like a lunatic to anyone else in the changing room when she emerged from the stall alone after having engaged in a full conversation with herself. Fortunately, she didn’t care. She held up the black suit that looked more like an A-line little-black-dress and hoped that the skirt would successfully cover the cellulite explosion that had apparently taken place without her knowledge. Once the suit was on and positioned correctly, she took another look in the mirror. This image was not all that pleasant, either.
There was way too much fabric—enough cloth to cover a woman who was due last week, but Jenny had little more than a tiny bump. She grabbed the edges of the skirt and pulled them outward—her arms could practically reach full extension. She looked like Dracula.
Depression began to sink in. After the exchange she’d had with Greg earlier, this bathing suit debacle was just adding insult to injury. She hoped the afternoon with Megan wouldn’t result in the realization that Marcus Sanders was a likely culprit, thus completing the bad day tri-fecta. That would have been too much to bear.
Returning to the matter at hand, she decided it was better to look like a vampire than it was to stuff herself into a suit she had no business wearing. Although, the thought did occur to her that maybe she just shouldn’t swim.
As Jenny pulled into the driveway of the Pryzbyck’s house, she noticed the neighborhood seemed to be family-oriented; it looked like a great place to live. She got out of her car and heard laughter coming from the backyard, causing her to head through the gate of the fence instead of to the front door. Once she rounded the corner, she caught Megan’s eye.
“Oh, hey! I’m glad you could make it,” Megan called. A couple that Jenny assumed to be the Pryzbycks turned her way and greeted her with a smile.
“Well, thanks for having me,” Jenny said as she approached. Introductions were made, and Ed immediately offered her a beer. “I can’t,” Jenny explained. “I’m pregnant.”
“I didn’t know that,” Megan said. “Congratulations!” An entire conversation about pregnancy and parenthood ensued. Jenny felt immediately comfortable around these people, under the impression that she could have remained friends with them if she had lived closer.
After Jenny was situated with a nice glass of ice water and a plate full of veggies and dip, the topic switched to her psychic ability. She told them about how she discovered her gift and that it turned out it was a genetic trait. For the first time, she was able to also say how it originated, having been told that by her grandmother just a couple of months before.
Megan and the Pryzbycks seemed mesmerized by her tale, which ended with a description of Nate Minnick’s latest contact. In an attempt not to be too redundant, she left out the fine details, simply reiterating that she wanted to clear Nate’s name by finding out who really killed Stella all those years ago.
“Which leads me to the reason for my visit,” Jenny added. “I was wondering how much you could tell me about Marcus Sanders.”
“Do you really think he’s a suspect?” Megan asked.
“I wish I didn’t,” Jenny admitted, “but he is on my list.”
“Well, he seemed like a nice enough kid,” Megan said. “But then again, so did Nate.”
“Were they friends? Marcus and Nate?” Jenny asked. “They were close to the same age.”
“I never really saw them hang out together, but I also wasn’t paying attention. I didn’t realize it would ever matter.” Megan thought about it some more. “I don’t think they were enemies or anything…I just don’t believe they were friends.”
“How about Marcus and Stella? Did they ever talk at all?”
Megan shook her head. “I don’t think they talked much, but I do think that Marcus may have had a little crush on her.”
Jenny felt her blood run cold; perhaps Stella hadn’t simply been manic when she’d made that observation. “What makes you think that?”
With a shrug, Megan replied, “He acted a little goofy around her. He would say hi if he saw her out there, but then he’d look down at the ground or stuff his hands in his pockets.” Megan smiled. “He never had that reaction around me.”
Renee chimed in. “He just had a thing for redheads, that’s all. Don’t take offense.”
Megan laughed. “I didn’t take offense. He was, what, sixteen? Seventeen? I wasn’t exactly competing for his attention. Anyway, he would also make a point of hanging out in his backyard every time Stella went out to sunbathe. I noticed that, but I
never said anything. I don’t think Stella saw the connection, and I figured she might have been creeped out if she realized what was happening.” She thought for a moment. “Not that Marcus was particularly creepy or anything…he was just young.”
Stella had seen the connection, but according to Karen’s account, she may have liked the attention. Although, Jenny had to admit this was the opposite of what she wanted to hear.
“Did you know Marcus at all?” Jenny asked. “Do you know what type of kid he was?”
“He seemed polite,” Megan noted. “I think his parents made sure of that. He never said yeah; he always said yes ma’am. You know what I mean?”
Jenny smiled. “Yes, ma’am. I do.”
Megan let out a little laugh. “Honestly, I never really saw anything that made me think twice about Marcus, or anyone in the Sanders family for that matter. They seemed like really nice people.”
At that moment, a man walked around through the gate and into the backyard. He appeared to be in his forties with long hair pulled back into a ponytail, and he had several tattoos on his arms that extended up under the short sleeves of his shirt. Jenny heard Renee say softly, “What the hell is he doing home already? He’s supposed to be looking for a job.”
“Leo!” Ed called loudly. “You find a job?”
The man, who apparently went by Leo, shuffled his feet as he approached. “Nah,” he grumbled. “Nobody’s hiring.” He came up the stairs and looked at Jenny with surprise. An expression of both confusion and pleasure graced his face. “Hey,” he said. “And who have we here?”
“This is Jenny Larrabee,” Renee said, her displeasure obvious. “And she’s married, so no big ideas.”
Leo held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “You can’t fault a man for trying, can you?” He spoke a little too slowly.
He proceeded to walk into the house, and as soon as Leo was out of earshot, Renee turned to Ed and proclaimed with disgust, “He’s high. He’s supposed to be out looking for a job, and he was out getting high.”
Ed shook his head. “I know.”
“He’s not holding up his end of the bargain, you know,” she continued. “The deal was he could stay with us as long as he was trying to get his act together, but this isn’t trying.”
Suddenly Jenny knew who answered the phone when she had called before. This was apparently not a skeleton in Renee’s closet, although she still wasn’t sure where he fit into all of this.
She didn’t have to wait long for an explanation. Renee turned to Jenny and said, “Leo is Ed’s cousin. He’d fallen into some hard times, so we took him in…but there were some conditions to him living with us, and he’s clearly not abiding by them…and honestly, I’ve just about had it.”
“There’s always one, isn’t there?” Megan said with a smirk. “Every family has that one cousin that they wish they could deny being related to.”
Jenny thought about Zack and the rest of the Larrabees as she dunked a carrot into her ranch dip. “I think I’m married to that cousin.”
Megan laughed. “Well, he must not be that bad, then. I don’t think anybody would marry my jackass cousin…he’s just a horrible human being.”
“That bad, huh?” Jenny asked.
“Oh, indeed,” Megan assured her. “He has been in and out of jail, has had restraining orders put against him...he’s a real gem, that one.”
Renee scoffed. “It sounds like he would get along really well with Leo.”
The wheels in Jenny’s head started turning.
Renee turned to Ed and said, “Seriously, honey, I’ve had it with him. I know he’s your family and all, but how much are we supposed to put up with? We’re letting him stay here rent free, we’re feeding him…and he’s not putting any effort in at all.”
“I know,” Ed replied, clearly feeling torn between allegiance to his cousin and his wife.
Renee continued, “I’m not kidding, Ed. If this is how it’s going to be, I want him out.”
Leo stepped back onto the deck, invoking an awkward silence. There was a good chance he had just heard Renee’s comment, although he wasn’t reacting to it if he did. He merely took off his shirt and sat down on the edge of a lounge chair, taking a sip of one of the two beers he had brought out with him. He gestured the other toward Jenny. “You want one?”
“No, thanks,” she replied. “I’m pregnant.”
Leo shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He placed the second beer on the deck next to him, looking quite satisfied with the prospect of keeping it for himself.
Jenny could feel Renee’s animosity beginning to grow, so she took advantage of that moment to pursue her line of thinking. “Megan,” she began, “you said your cousin had been in and out of jail. I also know your uncle owned the house that you and Stella rented together.” She winced slightly to prepare herself as she added, “Did that particular cousin happen to be the son of the man who owned your house?”
Megan seemed confused. “Yes, he was.”
“And how old is your cousin?” Jenny asked.
“Now? Let me think…I’m fifty-two, so he must be forty seven.”
A little quick subtraction led Jenny to reply, “So he was in his early twenties back in 1988.”
Megan’s eyes got wide. “You’re not suggesting…” She didn’t finish the sentence. Clearly she was running through the scenario in her head.
“I’m not necessarily suggesting he did it,” Jenny said. “I’m just looking at all angles. Did your cousin happen to live around you back then?”
Megan looked positively green. “He still lived with his father, so he moved out of the house I shared with Stella and into one about a half an hour from there.”
“Would he have had a key to your house?” Jenny asked. “Or access to one?”
Megan placed her hand on her chest. “It’s possible.”
Leo leaned forward onto his elbows. “What’s with all this talk about Stella?”
Jenny turned to look at him while Renee explained. “They’ve reopened the case. It seems the police may have gotten it wrong all those years ago.”
Jenny’s eyes drifted to the multitude of tattoos Leo had on his chest and arms.
“What makes them all of a sudden think that they were wrong?” Leo posed.
Jenny focused on one tattoo in particular.
“Well, that would be because of Jenny, here,” Renee told him. “She’s got some insight into the case that most people don’t have.”
The tattoo of the sun just under Leo’s left collar bone had rays extending in every direction and a face that was distorted by a c-shaped scar that made the eyes and nose twist oddly. Jenny’s blood froze in her veins as Stella’s words echoed in her head.
Look for the sun.
Had she been interpreting the message wrong all this time? Had she been seeking out somebody’s son when Stella had really meant that she should have been looking for a sun tattoo? And was that scar on the tattoo from the tip of the pen Stella had been using to write Karen when the attack happened?
But had Leo even been anywhere around Mumford Springs back in 1988? Or was this all just a very bizarre coincidence?
In a terrifying moment of sudden awareness, Jenny realized she had been staring. She slowly raised her gaze to Leo’s face to see if she had been caught.
Apparently, she had been, and his expression only confirmed her suspicions.
She was looking into the face of pure evil.
His eyes were fixed on hers; a slight smile graced his lips. He seemed to be amused by Jenny’s apparent realization, knowing that she was helpless to do anything about it at that moment. For a long few seconds, he continued to stare at her, sending a chill down her spine.
She made an involuntary sound that sounded like a cross between a gasp and a cough. “What’s the matter?” Leo asked coolly as he reached behind him to grab his shirt. “Is something wrong?”
Jenny shook her head rapidly, looking down at her lap. “It’s just the pregna
ncy.” She placed her hand on her stomach. “I-I-I think these vegetables aren’t agreeing with me.”
“Well, be careful,” Leo said in an ice cold tone, causing Jenny to raise her eyes to once again meet his. His smile grew slightly as he added, “You wouldn’t want anything to happen to that baby, now would you?”
Jenny was so frightened she could hardly breathe. “No.” Her shaky voice reflected her terror. “I sure wouldn’t.”
Renee’s voice was mercifully sobering. “Can I get you something? Do you need more water or anything?”
Confused by the question at first, Jenny remembered that she had made a claim of an upset stomach. “Yes, please.” She turned to Renee with a plastered-on smile. “More water would be great, thank you.”
As Renee disappeared into the house, Megan called, “Bring me one too, please.” Megan looked at Jenny. “I think I feel like you do right now. I’m horrified by the prospect that my cousin may have done this…but, you know, it wouldn’t have been beyond him. Like I said, he’s served jail time for assault and burglary. One of his girlfriends had a restraining order against him because he used to beat her.” She placed her head in her hands and rubbed her eyes. “So, if it does turn out to be Thomas, how on earth are we going to prove it’s him?”
Jenny chose her words carefully in an attempt to send Leo a message without tipping off the others. “Well, the forensics team took samples from a blood trail that went from the spot of the attack to the back door. There was also a palm print on the door sill that may have yielded prints.” She cleared her throat. “If your cousin has a criminal record of any kind, and his DNA or prints are on file anywhere, it’s only a matter of time before the police figure out it’s him.”
Leo shifted in his seat. Jenny pretended not to notice.