Chapter 10 #2
“I didn’t get any sense that she’d fallen in love. At least not by her behavior. It didn’t change. Wait, I take that back. She was suddenly worried about her and Lucy’s safety. Made her put all those locks you had to have seen on her door.”
“Did she ever discuss that with you?” Gabe asked.
“Sort of. But she never gave me a good answer about why she suddenly felt unsafe. Nothing around here scared the rest of us. I was worried that something had happened at her place, and she was hiding it from us.”
“I’ll check police reports to see if there’ve been any incidents in the area,” El said.
Mrs. Z.’s face narrowed in a scowl. “You’ll keep us updated if you find anything, right?”
“Of course.”
“One thing you could check for at her place if you haven’t already found it. The last month or so, she spent a lot of time scribbling in a journal. The book was green with a big black cross on the front. I asked about it. She sidestepped my questions and said it had to do with her faith.”
“But you didn’t believe her?” El asked.
Mrs. Z. shook her head. “And you know what? It wasn’t like her to lie. I can’t say she was downright lying to me, but she was avoiding telling me the truth.”
Gabe made a mental note to tell Sierra to look for the journal and Kenna’s missing tablet.
“Has anyone approached her house since she left?” El asked.
Mrs. Z. shook her head. “Unless of course they came when I was sleeping, which at my age is getting less and less.”
“What about the other neighbors?” El stood. “Could one of them have gotten a good look at this guy or know why Kenna added the locks to her doors?”
“It’s doubtful,” Mrs. Z. said. “They’re never home, and it’s been hard to connect with them. Besides, I have the best view of Kenna’s front door. If I didn’t see this guy, they probably didn’t either.”
Gabe gave her hands a squeeze and stood. “We still need to talk to them.”
“Of course you do. Stop back before you leave. I’ll have the cookies packaged to take to Lucy for when you find her.”
Gabe nodded and swiftly jogged down the steps before he let Mrs. Z. catch any doubt in his expression over finding his little princess.
“You didn’t see a journal in the house, did you?” El asked when she caught up to him in the middle of the driveway.
He shook his head. “She could have brought it with her, and it’s in the van.”
“I’ll text Sierra to be on the lookout for it and the missing tablet.” She woke up her phone and thumbed the screen quickly before shoving it back in her pocket. “Do you think the guy in the picture is the father of Kenna’s unborn child?”
“Seems possible.” He scanned the other bungalows, looking for security cameras but not seeing anything mounted on the exteriors.
Disappointment settled in. He couldn’t lose hope.
He had to stay positive, not only for himself, but for El.
As much as she was acting like a tough detective, he knew her insides were tangled up with past guilt.
Maybe she was even too stressed to see how much he cared about her and wanted to help her.
Not only in her life, but in this investigation.
Gabe never expected to be back there. Never expected to lay eyes on this sprawling ranch painted a crisp white with black shutters and trim. Never expected to see the house he’d come home to every day for eighteen years. But there he was, standing out front of his parents’ house.
El inched closer to him. “You don’t have to do this. I can question them on my own.”
“They won’t talk to you or anyone in law enforcement.” He took in a deep breath. “Might not even tell me anything since I was once a state trooper.”
“But really, all we want to ask is if they know how to locate Kenna’s parents.”
“With their distrust of law enforcement, they’ll think we want to arrest her parents. Not that they care about anyone but themselves, but they’d never want to be considered snitches.”
El rested her hand on his arm. “Maybe they’ve changed.”
He didn’t have to think about that for even a second. “No way. They’re career criminals all the way, getting deeper in as time goes by. And their choice of livelihood means we can’t even meet each other halfway.”
“Then maybe we should take a moment to pray that they’ll be forthcoming.” She took his hand and began praying.
He listened and believed what she was asking for, but did he really believe prayer presented on his family’s behalf made a difference? He’d offered prayer after prayer for years without any response from God, so he’d stopped praying.
Was he selling God short by doing that? Was God simply telling Gabe it wasn’t the right time for his family to change now but they could in the future? Or had he read God’s answer right and his family would never change?
El ended the prayer and squeezed his hand. “Ready?”
Ready? Was he ever. Maybe it was her comforting, encouraging, and loving gaze that left him thinking he could do anything.
“Let’s do this.” He led the way up the familiar walk and rang the doorbell.
Who would answer? His mother or his father?
His gut clenched. He couldn’t do this. He took a step back. Then another.
El moved closer, letting the edge of her hand touch his. The warmth. The compassion. Caring. Support. He could do this. With her at his side. With God at his side.
He raised his shoulders.
The door slowly opened. An older version of his mother stood before him. Her hair had grayed, her skin wrinkled, and her shoulders were stooped.
Her eyes lit up. “Gabe! Oh, my goodness. My Gabey boy. I always prayed you’d come home.”
She reached her arms out to him. The little boy in him wanted to be swallowed up in them.
The adult remembered the many times she’d forced him to go along with his father on a criminal activity.
The adult took center stage, and he couldn’t accept a hug.
“I’m not here on a personal call. Is Dad home? ”
Her excitement faded. Slowly. As if she couldn’t let go of hope for reconciliation. His heart ached for her. For himself, too. But he couldn’t do anything about it unless they’d changed.
Her posture stiffened. “He won’t be back until dinnertime. You could stay and have dinner with us.”
“Thank you, but no,” he said as politely as he could muster. “Actually, I don’t want to talk to him and was hoping he wouldn’t be here. Can we come in for a minute?”
For the first time, his mother shifted her gaze to El. “And who might you be, my dear?”
El held out her credentials. “Detective Elaina Lyons. Lost Lake Sheriff’s Department.”
His mother’s gaze flashed to his face, her eyelashes batting as fast as hummingbird wings. “You’ve brought the law to our doorstep?”
Gabe held up a placating hand. “This isn’t about you or the family. It’s about Kenna.”
“Oh, Kenna. Sweet Kenna. Of course, if it’s about her, come in.” She stood back, revealing the same small foyer with the same decor from his childhood.
On an entry table sat figurines of Mary and Jesus along with the family Bible.
Not only did his family live a life in opposition to Gabe’s faith, but they were hypocritical in their pretense of being strong Christians.
Their philosophy? Go to confession on Saturday, then resume sinning as if nothing had happened.
After all, why change when they could go back the next weekend and be forgiven again?
“Keep going, Gabey.” His mother’s continued use of his pet nickname bothered him, but they wouldn’t be there long, and there was no point in bringing it up. “To the kitchen.”
He led the way down the hallway to the only room his father had no desire to control, and where his mother felt most at home.
The floor was covered in wall-to-wall, indoor/outdoor carpeting with a green background and huge orange flowers, a blast from the seventies his grandmother had installed when she’d owned the home before them.
The avocado green appliances he remembered from his childhood were still in place.
Not surprising. His father didn’t believe in improving things as long as they worked or could be repaired.
Gabe pulled out one of the rusty-orange vinyl chairs for El, and she took a seat. He sat next to her.
His mother smiled at them. “I just made a fresh pot of coffee. Would anyone like a cup?”
Gabe hoped he wouldn’t be there long enough to even drink a half cup. “Not for me.”
“No thank you,” El said. “But thank you for asking.”
Disappointment overtaking his mother’s expression, she brushed her hands over her worn clothing and turned to pour coffee in her favorite white mug that he’d given to her for Mother’s Day just before he’d learned his family members were all crooks.
Another stab to his heart for what he was doing to his mother, but he couldn’t live the life they did or condone it.
She brought her coffee to the table and sat across from them. Cupping her hands around the mug, she looked at Gabe. “What is it you want to know?”
He wouldn’t waste time and there wasn’t a good way to tell anyone about a murder, so he came right out with it. “Kenna was murdered on Friday night. Her daughter was with her and she’s missing.”
His mother gasped, eliciting the response he’d expected. She’d always liked Kenna. After all, Kenna walked him to school and gave his mother more freedom. More time away from his father. Time when she could follow her own agenda, not his.
She released her cup. “What happened?”
“We’re still piecing that together,” he said. “But she was found floating in Lost Lake after having been strangled.”
“Oh. Oh. Oh my.” She clutched a hand to her flowery button-down blouse. “That poor dear. Who would kill her?”
“We were hoping you might have an idea,” El said, heading into an area that Gabe hadn’t wanted to go with his mother.
“Me? I try to keep up with what’s going on in the neighborhood, but once her family moved away, all I heard was that Kenna is a daycare teacher, and she has a young daughter.”
“Do you know where her parents live now?” El asked.