Chapter 13 Best Laid Plans
Chapter thirteen
Best Laid Plans
An hour actually wasn’t a lot of time to get the rest of the way back to Misty Glades, allow Jon to do whatever macho thing he needed to do to reassure himself everything around and within her apartment was how they’d left it, touch base one more time with Martha, and get out to the sheriff’s department. It meant they had to move with purpose.
It meant no lingering touches, no long kisses, no derailing conversations, and most certainly no getting caught by neighborhood snoops.
Still, somehow, it had only been one hour and three minutes since she’d disconnected from her call with Lynnette by the time Jenna was pulling into the foreboding parking lot of the county law enforcement offices. She was frankly quite proud of herself for that.
And for not throwing up yet.
She may have told Jon that she was confident and reasonably comfortable in her mission, but the truth was she was nervous as shit.
Her goal was right and just, and so she would see it through.
That was not the same thing. And on top of having to deal with Drew again, she had realized she absolutely had to tell Lynnette about Jon.
Lynnette knew a shallower version of the story of Jenna’s history with Jon, and Lynnette had lived in Misty Glades long enough to hear the tale of the tragic young Marine. Jenna wasn’t thrilled at having to repeat that story.
Nonetheless, a small portion of her nerves crumbled away at the sight of her friend’s unmistakable old pickup rolling into the lot. She smiled and held her position beside her own SUV while Lynnette parked, Jon’s words suddenly replaying through her mind.
“Fine, I relent. It was the mom threat that convinced me. Anyone who can confidently threaten Mrs. Hodge against her own daughter is good people.”
She knew he’d been joking—mostly—but she appreciated what he’d been saying all the same.
He was bending, attacking their slew of problems her way, and trusting her judgment.
Maybe more than that, he’d given her closest friend at least a tentative green light.
Jenna suspected that was not a small feat.
Lynnette hopped out of her truck and crossed the small, half-dead plant divider that separated their spaces.
She was dressed in classic black leggings that disappeared into her favorite ankle boots, with a billowy forest-green top that capped over her shoulders and dipped low enough to show off any jewelry, if she ever wore some.
The top was one Jenna had bought her friend for her birthday, come to think of it.
And the entire ensemble was perfectly fine, on the cute side, but Jenna couldn’t help but find it a touch odd for something Lynnette had packed as an on-site change of clothes.
“All right,” Lynnette said, reaching up to fix her ever-present messy bun because she for some reason loathed leaving her beautiful auburn hair down. “How are we doing this? Good cop, bad cop?”
Jenna bit her lips until the laugh subsided.
“I don’t know how well that’d work this time, but I love that you offered.
Before we go in, please tell me I didn’t actually interrupt a date, or ruin date plans, or something?
” Lynnette was as painfully single as Jenna—or as Jenna would have said she was a few days prior.
But Lynnette met new people every day, which meant relationship status could change at the drop of a hat.
Lynnette planted a hand on her hip. “Well, first, if I had such a thing on my agenda today, I would have removed it. I know my priorities. And second, I’m insulted you think I wouldn’t have told you if I had an actual date.”
“It’s just, you look really nice.”
Lynnette looked down at herself, but the movement did not hide her suddenly reddening face. “It was … probably inappropriate to wear this in front of a patient, right? Even off-duty?”
Jenna’s eyes widened. “Oh my God, you have a crush!”
“I don’t!”
Jenna latched onto her friend’s arm. “You’ll have to tell me all about him.
” What she wouldn’t give to just have an easy girl’s night, where they popped in some ridiculous rom-com, snacked on whatever had looked good in the grocery store, and told stories or vented about their lives.
A night like that sounded much more enjoyable.
She sighed and loosened her grip as they stepped simultaneously off the curb. “Later, of course.”
Lynnette matched her sigh. “Will you tell me about the source of those strange sounds from the call? The suspiciously masculine ones?”
Shit. Jenna grabbed Lynnette’s wrist and hauled her abruptly back toward her own vehicle, just so they weren’t standing awkwardly in the center of a parking lot. “Right, actually, that part I should tell you now. Because Drew knows and, well, he’s Drew.”
Lynnette rolled her eyes. “And it’s a big enough deal you’d rather I hear it from you?”
“Yes.” Jenna steadied herself. “Well, for you it might be less of a big deal than it will be for some others, but still, yes.” She could tell her hedging was making it all worse, so she blurted, “Jon’s not dead.
His father’s an asshole who made the whole thing up. And he’s home now. Jon’s home, I mean.”
Lynnette blinked. “Jon,” she repeated. Her brown eyes blew wide, the usually subtle golden flecks sparkling bright beneath the afternoon sun.
“Your ex-boyfriend from high school Jon? The Marine the entire town still talks about on holidays because they all think he died like some national hero? That Jon?”
And that was why it was going to be a big deal. Misty Glades was far too dramatic.
Jenna bobbed her head, held up her phone, and showed a picture she’d managed to get under the auspices of having a contact photo. “This is my Jon.” She winced. “Er, you know, Jon. Who does not belong to me.”
Lynnette studied the photo for too many seconds, turned away, and snort-laughed into the crook of her elbow. “Shit. I should have called you the first night, but I was so wiped, I honestly don’t even remember the drive home.”
Because that’s not concerning. “Called me?”
Lynnette composed herself. “I have a Marine recovering in my hospital from a brutal injury to his leg,” she said. “Not local. Came to town with another guy who ‘used to be’ from around here, apparently. That’s actually how I heard about what happened at Sweet Stop.”
Jon’s friend had landed on Jenna’s friend’s shift. She hadn’t asked, because it’d felt entirely too nosy and because even being friends with Lynnette, Jenna didn’t fully understand how the nursing rotation worked. But, somehow, it made her feel better.
Jenna pocketed her phone and motioned to the building once again.
“I’m glad to know he’s getting decent treatment from at least one nurse, then.
I felt so bad about him getting hurt basically defending my store.
” She lowered her voice for no reason and finally confessed her sin.
“I couldn’t even remember his name when it happened, either. ”
Lynnette laughed again. “Well, for what it’s worth, the only grudge he seems to be holding is with that shifter who shredded him.” She made a mock-shuddering motion. “Can’t say I blame him on that. I hate thinking about what he might’ve been through to be so calm about what he’s going through.”
Jenna bobbed her head, but her chattiness died away as they reached the single, glass-paneled door.
Lynnette pulled it open and met her stare. “These might be my good boots,” she said quietly, “but I will plant them squarely in any asses necessary, so don’t be shy.” She tilted her head inside. “No badge means they get to throw us away.”
Right. She was right. And in the back of her mind, Jenna couldn’t help but think Jon would have approved that speech.
Jenna continued forward, feeling actually confident with Lynnette at her back.
She walked in with her head held high and marched past the sad offering of four whole chairs—hard, plastic seats anchored to a metal bar that ran either side wall—straight up to the front desk.
She didn’t visually recognize the woman sitting there, but she recognized the name on the woman’s pinned tag.
First hurdle—Deputy Bitch.
Deputy Bitch looked up at Jenna, then past her to Lynnette, and arched a brow as if to say they had some nerve approaching her. Or entering the building at all. “Can I help you ladies with something?”
Jenna felt her lips lifting in a reflexive smile, the same as she would offer to any customer no matter how badly she wanted to get them out the door, and she fought it down.
“You absolutely can. I need to do two separate things, in fact, but the most important is to file a missing person’s report.
” She did make the effort to hold the snarky comments inside, at least at the beginning.
Deputy Bitch scowled at her. “Do I know you?”
“We’ve talked on the phone a few times,” Jenna replied smoothly. “That’ll be the other thing. Can we focus on the missing person first?” She held off the ‘please’. She hadn’t yet met a person at the department who deserved the courtesy.
The woman in the uniform leaned back in her seat and drummed her manicured nails on her desk, never removing her eyes from Jenna. “Filing a false police report is a crime.”
Jenna felt herself bristle.