Chapter 6 Promise & Loss #2
Jenna didn’t realize she had started shaking until the milkshake was extracted from her hand and her body turned, tucked into Jon’s side.
Somehow, he made her feel delicate at the same time as he grounded her, and that helped to stave off the avalanche of panic that wasn’t hers to have.
“I can check with the rest of my crew, see if they’ve heard anything.
I know she’s bonded with a couple of them. ”
A note of relief colored Martha’s voice. “Oh, thank you. That would help so much. I wasn’t sure who else to call.” She dragged in a breath. “I don’t know what I’ll do if she’s … run away.” The words were whispered, because they both knew Steph wasn’t that girl.
The news report Jenna had heard earlier that morning flashed through her mind. Please, no. “I’ll ask around and then get back to you, okay?”
“Okay,” Martha said quickly. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
Jenna disconnected with a heavy heart, her stomach sinking with anxiety.
Jon reached over and laid a hand on top of her trembling one, preventing her from navigating through the phone as thoroughly as he steadied her. “What’s going on?”
Jenna drew a deep breath and looked up in search of his eyes.
Dark, like the deepest fathoms of the sea, and equally as captivating.
She was practically nestled against him and she ought to have pulled away, but she was thinking maybe he’d been on to something after all.
Maybe it would be nice to have someone she could rely on.
“The young girl who works for me, she was there yesterday, do you remember her?”
Jon nodded. “Late teens, light brown hair, kept staring at Lance’s ass.”
Jenna smiled. “Her name is Steph. She’s nineteen, specifically, and she’s a little skittish but she’s a good kid.” Her smile faded. “She might be missing….”
A muscle jumped in Jon’s jaw as he clenched it tight for a moment. Then he tugged her forward, pressed a hard kiss to her forehead, and murmured, “Call whoever you need to call. Let’s not jump to conclusions.”
Jenna nodded. He was right. Yesterday had been dramatic and not in a positive way. It’d probably been much more scarring for her younger employees. If Steph was going to act out of character suddenly, it made sense she might do so on the heels of that. Don’t panic yet. Don’t assume the worst.
She tipped herself more into his side as he released her hands. She had to be the one to make the next calls. She knew it. He knew it.
Her restlessness mounted with each phone call, and each subsequent failed discovery.
Eric was the only one of her employees to have heard from Steph since the wild events the day before, and even then, the sun had still been up.
He also hadn’t had the impression that she was so shaken she might break character and abandon her entire life.
Jenna was up and pacing by the time she finished her last call.
Steph still hadn’t shown any signs of checking her texts.
Chatter in what remained of the group thread Jenna had created that morning confirmed Steph also hadn’t been active on any known social media since the previous day, either. Apparently, Steph wasn’t the most social media-forward girl, but she was Generation Z, so her accounts weren’t neglected.
Frustrated and desperate, Jenna tried calling Steph’s phone. For the third time. Martha had surely done as much already. She just didn’t know what else to try.
For the first time, after the usual pause of dead air, the call went straight to voicemail. Which, of course, the girl had not set up.
Jenna clenched her phone as the dread mounted. What was she supposed to do? She didn’t know much more about Steph’s personal life, let alone the girl’s habits. Was it possible Steph had gone for a walk and gotten hurt in the forest and was desperately waiting for someone to find her?
That actually seemed very possible. Misty Glades was all forest.
Jenna spun on her heel.
“Whoa, whoa,” Jon said, suddenly in her space and holding her by the shoulders. “You aren’t nearly settled enough to be rushing out that door.”
Jenna pushed at him, but it was like pushing at a sturdy oak.
Even his shirt barely moved. “Steph’s out there somewhere, we just haven’t found her.
” She held up her phone like the visual helped.
“Her call went straight to voicemail this time. It didn’t ring.
That means it’s”—her throat closed, choking off the word—“the battery must be dead, right?” She cleared her throat.
“What if Steph’s out there in the forest, nursing a broken ankle or something, and scared out of her mind? ”
He still didn’t budge. “And you’re going to scour the entire forest?”
Her fingers twisted in his shirt. “What would you have me do?”
“Call Martha back and put your heads together on the tightest timeline you can,” he replied.
“The most important things are who last had eyes on her, who thinks they last communicated with her, and the very first indication that something was off. A missed meal, a message that might normally have been read but went ignored—”
Alarm bells rang in Jenna’s head and her knees buckled.
Jon caught her swiftly and hauled her up tight against his chest, one arm banded behind her back and the other hand wedged in her hair.
If she were in a different mindset, the position would have been concerningly—wonderfully—intimate.
But there was no seduction in his gaze, either.
This version of Jon was serious. Focused.
This was the Jon she knew least of all.
“What was that?” he asked.
Jenna swallowed hard. “I sent out a group text this morning,” she said.
“Early, because I was in denial about the bakery, so I’d gotten up like usual.
Steph wasn’t scheduled for today, but she helps take care of her uncle—she’s Mr. Carlisle’s niece, and he’s really bad these days—so she doesn’t get to sleep in much regardless of her work schedule.
But I just thought … she was busy. Distracted.
Like girls her age can be.” Except that was only half true. She had been worried.
And it’d been hours since then.
Jon pressed her into his shoulder and she thought she felt him turn his head, maybe kiss her temple.
She didn’t have the strength to think about that.
“Whatever’s happened, Jen, it’s not your fault.
Why don’t we head over to Mr. Carlisle’s, I’m guessing that’s where she and Martha live?
This kind of shit is better handled in person than over hackable, droppable phone lines. ”
Jenna started to nod, her lungs filling with the matured scent of him, when his actual words sank in and she blurted, “Hackable?” She knew what it meant, but he couldn’t seriously think that was a concern?
He eased his grip, letting her slide down to the flats of her feet as his hands dragged around to her hips without ever separating from her—which she refused to think about—and met her gaze.
“I’ve been in the area twenty-four hours and I’ve heard multiple news reports about the spike in missing females lately.
All between the ages of sixteen and twenty-five.
If I dig, I suspect I’ll find more connections than those.
And if that’s already crossed my mind, I’m betting it’s crossed yours. ”
Jenna shook her head, not wanting to hear his words. “None of that’s come out here,” she said, as if Misty Glades were somehow protected. “Steph is—”
“Nineteen,” Jon reminded her. “From a rural community most of the damn state hasn’t even heard of, not overly active online, and from the sounds of it socially isolated. Statistically, that makes her vulnerable. To the kinds of bastards who prey on young women? That makes her an optimal target.”
Her stomach rolled, threatening to return her once-delicious lunch. “No…”
Jon gave her hips a squeeze. “We don’t know yet. But it would be smart to start bracing.” He released her hips and cupped her face in his palms, keeping her head tilted up to his as if he could sense how badly she wanted to pull away from the entire conversation. “There is a silver lining.”
She tried for an incredulous look, but it didn’t feel like her face cooperated. “What? You get a decent reason to keep dodging that letter?”
He huffed. “Well, damn. There’re two.” His lips twitched for a single second. “If she was taken, whoever’s responsible is expecting to dodge the local law. Not a Force Recon-trained Marine.”
Confusion helped to dull the edge of her panicking emotions and Jenna managed a pout.
“I don’t mean this disrespectfully, but doesn’t ‘recon’ mean ‘reconnaissance’?
As in ‘observation’? How does a skill in watchfulness help here?
And even if it did, you’re one man, Jon.
One man who does not have an army behind him, I hate to point out. ”
Jon seemed to think her words were funny, judging by the crinkling of his eyes.
“You’re right,” he said. “I’m not active duty anymore.
I don’t have a platoon watching my six or a battalion snapping-to under my command.
What I do have is the freedom to move like a civilian, with all the tracking, observational, and combat skills of a man who worked his way up to a damn respectable position in the armed forces.
And maybe I’m lacking some of the toys I used to have access to, but I’ve got plenty of ammunition.
Especially on the tail end of spring, in a coastal state. ”
Tears of frustration welled up in her eyes.
If he weren’t still quite literally holding her stare, she would have slumped forward.
“I just don’t see how that does any good if we don’t know anything…
” Although she did understand his last point.
But it was hard to picture his power being overly useful in the current situation, at least the way he’d used it before.
Jon arched a brow at her and extended one thumb before a stray tear rolled from her eye, catching it just below her lid.
“Don’t we?” He let the words hang for a moment, then took a step back, snatched up her milkshake, and pushed it into her hands.
“Odds are she disappeared overnight, with an outside chance of early this morning. Talking with Martha might narrow that window. Regardless, we also already have suspects.”
Jenna found herself trailing behind him down her own hallway as her mind played catch-up.
“We do?” She still wasn’t ready to assume Steph had been kidnapped at all.
It felt like such a dramatic leap. But… The alternative looked like Steph had willfully run away, and that was perhaps harder to swallow.
“Two,” Jon said as he swept her purse from the hook in the entry and passed it to her. “As well as a vehicle. Though it’s important to consider that vehicle may not normally be associated with them, or they may have ditched it after shooting up a pair of deputies.”
Her eyes blew wide. “Crap. You think—but why would those guys—”
“There’s a lot we still don’t know. But that kind of coincidence doesn’t happen, Jen.
” He switched off her interior light and pulled open the door.
“So, we go talk to the family first. Tighten the timeline as best we can. I need a clear picture. You’ll establish a line of communication. We’ll go from there.”