by David Bell
Jenna felt herself blush. Dammit. Blushing when the big man on campus acts a little flirtatious? “I was just going to say that it doesn’t matter so much what the thing is, just that there’s something you do together. Even if it’s as mundane as eating pizza.”
“You’re right, of course,” he said. “With work and everything . . . I never imagined I’d be a single parent.”
“You’re not,” she said, her voice urgent, trying to believe what she said. “You know what I mean.”
“Sure. But I am a single dad for now, no matter what happens next.” An awkwardness settled over their conversation, like an engine that just wouldn’t turn over. Ian brought them out of the nosedive. “I guess you’re wondering why I came by out of the blue like this.”
“I think I know.”
She told him about the calls from Naomi Poole and Reena Huffman. As she spoke, she knew Reena was on the air, broadcasting the story about Celia’s affair and, likely, Jenna’s lack of knowledge of it.
“Turn it on,” Ian said.
“Really? You want to watch it? I thought you stayed away from all that.”
“I watch sometimes,” he said. “It’s good to know what people are saying and thinking. Do you mind?”
“Not if you don’t.”
She flipped on the TV. The show was in its early stages, with Reena giving a rundown of all the stories she intended to cover during the hour. Apparently other things did happen in the world. She planned on discussing a priest who molested children in Idaho and a dog who rescued a family from a burning building in Michigan.
And, of course, she intended to devote a lot of time to the latest crime in Hawks Mill: the murder of Holly Crenshaw.
But then she was ready to launch into her first topic for the night: Breaking news in the case of the Diamond Mom, Celia Walters.
• • •
Reena delivered the news of Celia’s affair to the viewing public. She took her time, milking the story for all it was worth and placing forceful emphasis on certain salacious words. Extramarital. Sexual. Lying.
Jenna snuck a couple of glances over at Ian as Reena went on and on. His face showed nothing, just a simple curiosity about what was being said. He could have been watching a weather report.
“I hate this ‘Diamond Mom’ shit,” Jenna said.
“Celia would think it’s ridiculous.”
Reena mentioned Ian only in passing. She told the audience that Celia’s husband, Ian, had no knowledge of the most recent affair and was as blindsided by the whole thing as anybody else.
Jenna thought of her mom and the earlier phone call. Celia wasn’t as perfect as everyone thought, and everyone knew. Jenna hated herself for it, but she felt a little glee, the smallest hint of a fuck-you to her mother.
“Earlier tonight,” Reena said, “I spoke with Ian Walters on the phone. He was too upset to speak on the air, and I completely understand that. I do. But he told me how devastating these affairs are, especially considering that he has a young daughter at home. Think about that, folks, the Diamond Mom’s daughter is now learning that her mother, who is already a crime victim, was being unfaithful at the time of her disappearance.”
Reena gave the camera one of her patented head shakes, a gesture meant to indicate how confounding and crazy the things she was forced to talk about were. If only I didn’t have to do this, she wanted everyone to understand.
“Did you really talk to her?” Jenna asked.
“Briefly,” Ian said. “I didn’t want her smearing Celia without saying something.”
“I can’t reveal my source on this breaking news,” Reena said, “but I can promise you it’s been checked and double-checked with confirmation coming from individuals very close to the situation.”
“Do you want to turn it off now?” Jenna asked.
Ian held up his index finger without looking at Jenna, so she left it on.
“But do you want to know what really confounds me?” Reena said. “Do you want to know what really has me scratching my head? The best friend. Jenna Barton. I spoke to her earlier tonight as well. Obviously we didn’t want to speak to her live on the air given her proclivity for using profanity.” A little bit of an eye roll. “But I did want to get her take on this story, since she claims to be the Diamond Mom’s best friend.” She made air quotes when she said “best friend.” “And guess what? Jenna told me on the phone that she had no idea there was an affair going on. None. No idea that her best friend was involved with another man. Also no idea about the previous affair that we learned about. Does that seem a little odd to any of you?”
Jenna picked up the remote control. She placed her finger over the on/off switch, but didn’t press. Ian still appeared to be watching.
“What all this means to me is that there’s a lot of lying and deceiving going on. And it’s my job, as a journalist, to get to the bottom of it. But first, we’re going to go out to Becky McGee in Hawks Mill for more. And frankly, I don’t know what to even think of this. Another beautiful young woman murdered in this small town. Do we have a serial killer on the loose out there, preying on the women of Kentucky—”
Jenna turned the TV off.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
The driver from Stanley’s Pizza came as soon as the TV was off. Ian stood up and tried to pay, but Jenna waved him off. She might be publicly called out as a foulmouthed liar by a bloviating cable news host, but she could pay to feed her own son.
Her son. Who hadn’t come home yet. Her pulse sped up as she closed the front door. He’s okay, she told herself. Give him another twenty minutes or so.
She and Ian went out to the kitchen, where she brought down plates and asked him if he wanted anything to drink. He accepted her offer of a beer—something bitter and expensive someone from her book club left behind one night—and they sat down to eat.
“I haven’t had Stanley’s in years,” Ian said. “Since high school.”
“We went there all the time after basketball games,” Jenna said. “After watching you play. It was always a big deal when the guys from the team came in.”
“I need to eat this more.” He bit into the pizza with gusto and took a couple of long swallows of the beer. Jenna excused herself and checked her phone. Nothing from Jared. She sent him a message, asking him to let her know where he was before she had to call the police. He wrote back right away.
On my way home.
Jenna sighed with relief. She walked to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of wine. She told herself she’d earned it. Just one glass to take the edge off. “So you just came by to warn me about the TV show? Is that it?” She filled her glass and sipped off the top. Then she added more and came back to the table.
Ian patted the corners of his mouth with a napkin. “Not the only thing. Our conversation the other day got me thinking. About Celia. About everything that’s happened.”
Jenna leaned back in her chair, the wineglass held in front of her chest. She felt wary and wanted to consider Ian from as much distance as she could. All that time without any contact, and suddenly he showed up on her doorstep, wanting to talk.
But another impulse competed with the caution. She felt light-headed, a little giddy, the sensation pushed along by the alcohol. She hadn’t felt that way since . . . since before Marty left? Since the occasional dates and short-term relationships she’d experienced over the previous ten years of being single? Since that time in high school when Ian walked her home, those fleeting moments she held his undivided attention before Celia moved in?
“And what were you thinking?” Jenna asked, acutely aware that none of it would be happening, she wouldn’t be enjoying the time alone with Ian if Celia hadn’t disappeared.
“Celia kept secrets,” Ian said. He rested his hand on the beer bottle but didn’t drink any more. He wore concentration on his face, his brow slightly furrowed, hi
s eyes staring at a fixed point somewhere just above the table. “We know that now. I’ve known it for a while, I guess. Maybe the two of you shared more over the years. Maybe you were closer than she and I.”
“I was clearly in the dark about some things as well,” Jenna said. “I think Celia liked to remind those closest to her that she didn’t need us as much as we needed her.”
“Maybe that’s it,” he said, although he didn’t sound convinced. He used his index finger to pick at the label on the beer. It made a small ticking noise beneath their conversation. Tick. Tick. Tick. “I’m sure you’ve seen or heard the rumors about Celia. The stuff people say on the Internet or sometimes even right in the papers.”
“I’ve made the mistake of getting on those sites,” Jenna said.
“People think they’ve seen her other places. Other cities and states, like she ran away and started a new life.”
Jenna’s heart beat even faster. And she felt a cold chill on the back of her neck as if a draft were blowing through the house. “You don’t believe any of that, do you?”
“The police know about something. For some reason, it hasn’t leaked out to the media, but maybe it will. I guess nothing’s really private anymore, is it?”
“What are you talking about?”
Tick. Tick. Tick. Then he stopped and wiped his fingertip on a napkin.
“We kept cash in the house,” he said. “Not a lot. A few hundred dollars, maybe a thousand at the most. Just emergency money, if there was a sudden crisis.”
“Yeah, I have the same thing. It’s a jar of loose change.”
Ian ignored her comment. “It was gone around the time she disappeared.” He held up his hands right away to silence any comment. “Now, it could have been used for something else. I hadn’t checked it for a long time, and it’s possible Celia used it on a shopping trip or something. She did that sometimes. She’d go to Lexington or Cincinnati with her friends, her new friends, and they’d shop. If I complained about the credit card bills, she might get into the cash, so that could be it.”
“Or?”
“Or I don’t know,” he said. “A thousand dollars can’t take a person very far, but it’s enough to start a new life somewhere, isn’t it?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
“Are you saying you think she ran away? That she’s not the victim of a crime?”
Jenna needed the wine. She needed water too, but she liked the wine more.
“We got a really good lead once. Somebody who followed the case online saw a woman in Chicago. Outside Chicago, actually, in some suburb. This person swore it was Celia, the so-called Diamond Mom. That’s what he called her, like she doesn’t have a real name. He even snapped a photo of her once at the mall.”
“Are you kidding?” Jenna felt an ache in the pit of her stomach. She hadn’t touched the pizza and then she drank. And then the news. It was all making her feel a little sick.
Ian looked doubtful. “The police went and checked it out. They couldn’t find the woman who was supposed to be Celia. Maybe she’d moved on, or maybe the person who saw her was a kook.”
“Did you see the photo?”
“I did. It could have been Celia. But it could have been any one of a million middle-aged women with brown hair. The cops couldn’t prove anything. Nobody could. When the cops struck out, I hired a private investigator to look as well. He talked to people who knew this woman. She moved to town and then left pretty quickly. She said her name was Amelia something or other. She didn’t leave a trail, so the investigator couldn’t find anything. There’ve been a few other incidents like that. Not as promising as that one, but we followed up on them.”
“So crazy people think they see her,” Jenna said. “There are people who think they see Elvis in gas stations. People see Jesus on a potato chip. Do you think Celia would leave you? Okay, even if you guys were having trouble, would she leave Ursula? Her daughter, who is just entering the most vulnerable and important period of her life?”
Ian seemed to snap out of something, some memory trance and reflection he’d fallen into when he started talking. He picked up the beer and drank. “You’re right.”
“And why would she leave . . . I’m sorry, Ian, but why would she leave without the guy she was having a relationship with?”
“It’s okay. I’ve learned to discuss these painful things.” His smile looked more like a wince. “Maybe there was another guy, somewhere else. Maybe in another state. I guess I don’t know.”
“I’m sorry, Ian. I’m sorry for you and Ursula.”
“I think about this all the time and wonder if I want to believe these things the way someone would believe in a fairy tale. It’s just been so long now and nothing. And they found Holly Crenshaw so quickly. This isn’t a big community. People see things, they know people. How does something like this remain hidden for so long?”
“I don’t know. Maybe Benjamin Ludlow will lead to something.”
“Can you think of anything?” Ian asked. “Anything she said or did that might suggest . . . that might suggest anything? Anything besides this being a random crime?”
“Have you talked to her other friends? The ladies from the country club? The golf and bridge set?”
Jenna failed to keep the contempt out of her voice. What the heck? They were sharing secrets over pizza. Why hide how she felt?
“They didn’t know her well,” Ian said. “Not like you. I know you guys seemed to be drifting a little too, but you were always her closest friend. That could never change. If Celia didn’t open up to you about these relationships, it was because she feared your judgment. She knew you’d tell her the truth, and I don’t think she wanted to hear it.”
“What if there’s a killer on the loose? A serial killer like Reena said. Celia isn’t the only one.” The full weight of the idea settled on Jenna’s shoulders. “It’s terrifying, Ian. Who could ever have thought this would happen in Hawks Mill?”
He picked up the empty beer bottle and rose from his chair. He rinsed it out at the sink and then turned. “I need to get going. Jared will be home soon, and you have food waiting for him. I have to check in with Ursula.”
“You must worry about her a lot more now.”
“I’ve always worried. And I try not to smother her because of Celia. But it’s tough. My mother stays at our house most days. Between the two of us we’re managing with Ursula.”
He put the bottle upside down in the drying rack and came over to the table where Jenna still sat. He held his hand out, as if he wanted to shake. Jenna reached up and they clasped. It seemed like an odd gesture, awkward and formal for two people who’d known each other so long. She remembered the way he’d placed his hand on hers in the restaurant, squeezing before he left.
His hand lingered longer this time, and the racing of her heart began again. He used his thumb to rub the soft skin on the back of her hand, and they were just slipping out of each other’s grip when someone called from the front of the house.
“Mom?”
It took Jenna a slow moment to respond. Then she said, “Out here.”
She kept her eyes on Ian as Jared came to the doorway. “Oh,” he said. “Hi, Ian.”
“Jared.” He moved across the room and they shook hands as well, formal and still natural. “I was just leaving. I came by to bother your mom, but I have to go.”
“Okay,” Jared said, unable to hide his confusion. He’d heard his mother complain about Ian’s aloofness many times over the years. Jared had no doubt witnessed it firsthand at the few gatherings Ian bothered to attend. To see this man in his kitchen, standing over a Stanley’s pizza, must have thrown him off balance. “I just got home.”
“Will you walk Ian out, honey?” Jenna asked.
“Sure.”
She watched them disappear toward the front of the house. And when they were out of sight she ha
d no choice but to throw back the rest of the wine.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Jared closed the door. On Ursula’s dad.
Ursula’s dad just walked out the door of their house. Right after Jared had seen Ursula in the park.
And had he really seen what he thought he saw in the kitchen? When he came through the entryway after calling out for his mom, it looked as though the two of them had been holding hands or something. Holding hands? His mom and Ursula’s dad?
Jared walked slowly to the kitchen, trying to process all of it.
And he tried to process what he’d learned at Tabitha’s house. If Tabitha wasn’t in the house, and it didn’t look as though anybody else was, where had they gone? Were they gone for good?
He smelled the pizza as he approached the kitchen. When he walked out there again, his mom was staring into space, the glass of wine in her hand empty. She must have drained it while he walked Ian to the door.
“Mom?”
“Are you hungry?” she asked. “There’s plenty.”
“I’m sorry about running out before. I just had to know what was going on.”
“Running out? Oh, yeah. You really shouldn’t do that, but I understand.”
She still looked as if her mind was somewhere else, which only added to his belief that something more was going on with Ian than met the eye. But he wasn’t sure he could ask her about it.
Jared went to the refrigerator and grabbed a can of Coke. Then he sat at the table, pulling on the metal tab, hearing the liquid pfft as it opened. He grabbed for the pizza and took a bite, his hunger surprising him. He’d spent the whole week worrying about Tabitha, and when he worried that way, which was rare, he didn’t like to eat. Maybe it was the Stanley’s, but Jared’s appetite roared back as he sat at the table across from his mom.
While he chewed, she rose and poured herself more wine.
“Do you want to hear what I found out? About Tabitha?”