Chapter 25
Jenna couldn’t believe how well the interview had gone. She and Nancy hit it off from the start. They connected over the Braves,
and the woman’s aunt vacationed on Chincoteague every summer. Nancy had even visited a few times herself.
Furthermore, the position seemed perfect for Jenna. She’d be responsible for overseeing the coaches of all the adult sports.
She’d be accountable for the venues and equipment. The only negative was the reduction in salary, which would likely mean
giving up her new apartment. But the pay was comparable to what she’d been making before the last pay raise Jason had given
her.
When they’d gotten around to talking about Jenna’s dismissal from Fleming Orthodontics, Nancy seemed to accept Jenna’s explanation—and
even sympathize—about the workplace romance gone awry. She’d apparently had a similar thing happen years ago. And even though
she’d connected the last name with Mayor Fleming, she seemed unconcerned about the association. The interview only got better
from there.
Jenna spilled every detail to Ty on the drive to DC, and retelling it only amped her up more. “She didn’t commit to anything
because she still has a few more people to interview—including one person on staff. I’m most worried about that. But I’m still
hopeful.”
“That’s great, Jenna. Sounds like it couldn’t have gone better.”
Jenna beamed. “It felt like a really good fit.”
“She’d be crazy to hire anyone else.”
“Thanks, Ty.” She glanced his way. It had somehow helped knowing he was just a few miles away rooting for her. “I’m glad you
came with me today.”
“I’m glad too.”
But as they headed into DC proper, the pep in Jenna’s step began to fade. A job was important, but it was just a job. Their
mission now was to figure out who this Gordon guy was so she could protect her mother. It was going on six o’clock and DC’s
rush-hour traffic was living up to its bad reputation.
They’d put Gordon’s home address into the GPS, and now it was only twelve miles away, but it would apparently take almost
an hour to get there at this rate.
“What would you think about stopping for supper?” Ty asked.
She was eager to stake out Gordon’s home, but she was also hungry—they hadn’t eaten since before the interview. “That makes
sense. Maybe some of this traffic will clear up by the time we’re finished.”
The two-story row house looked much as it had online, but viewing the neighborhood granted Jenna additional perspective. The
homes were well maintained, and the neighbors coming and going seemed like regular, upstanding people.
When Ty and Jenna first arrived, they simply drove past the home as there were no parking spots available. Then they parked
a block away and strolled past the house. The curtains were drawn except for one upstairs window, and there were no signs
of life.
A while later a parking spot opened a few houses down. They snagged it and had been surveying the house ever since. But there was no movement in or around the home that they could see. They’d talked about ringing the doorbell, but Jenna hoped to avoid that.
The notion triggered a thought. Jenna reached into her purse, removed the binoculars, and pressed them to her eyes.
“You brought binoculars?”
“What’s a stakeout without binoculars?”
“Where did you even get those?” he asked.
“Dad and I used to go bird-watching sometimes. We saw a flamingo once near Wallops Island.”
“That’s cool. Are you hoping to spot the rare speckle-throated nightflutter?”
“That’s not a thing.” She adjusted the focus. “I’m trying to see if . . . Oh good. They don’t have one.”
“Don’t have what?”
“One of those doorbell cameras that record everyone approaching the house. As far as I can tell, he doesn’t have any kind
of camera.” If they approached the door, Gordon would recognize both of them.
At the sound of pedestrians approaching on the sidewalk, she lowered the binoculars. “Last thing we need is to get hauled
in for stalking.”
“We could call your mom to bail us out.”
“Funny.”
His phone vibrated as a text came in. “It’s Mom. Look, she sent a picture of the foal she’s eyeing. Look at her.”
Jenna lowered the binoculars and leaned in to see the filly. She was a beautiful bay with a white blaze and spindly legs.
“Aw, she’s so cute.”
“It’d be nice having another foal on the property.” He shot Jenna an impish grin. “Dad’s sunk. I’m going to send this picture to Alex. A little gloating never hurt anyone.”
She remembered her conversation with Ronda. “Or . . . you could not tell Alex and just get him to raise the bet.”
The look in his eyes shifted to one of admiration. “You’re a genius.” He started texting.
Jenna turned her attention to the neighborhood. A streetlight kicked on nearby. The sun was setting and a cloak of darkness
would soon fall over the neighborhood.
A few minutes later Ty pocketed his phone. “Done. Got him to three hundred.”
“Three hundred? I thought it was one hundred.”
“It was, but Alex got us up to two hundred last week.”
That tricky, tricky woman. Jenna stifled a grin.
Ty nodded to the binoculars. “Give me those things.”
She handed them over, then let her gaze drift back to the house. “Is that a light in that upstairs window? A faint one?”
He aimed the binoculars that way. “Maybe. I can’t really tell yet. But it’s getting darker by the minute.”
“Even if a light is on, that doesn’t mean anyone’s home. He could’ve just left it on for security.”
“True. Are you thinking we should ring the bell tonight?”
Mostly she just wanted to make sure he lived alone. “I think so. If someone does come to the door, should we just ask for
Gordon?”
“Maybe not. They might tell him someone was looking for him, and they’ll want to know who we are.”
“We could ask for his daughter, Katie.”
“That might work.”
Jenna swung her gaze back to the second-story window, which now appeared brighter as darkness fell. “There is a light on.”
He lowered the binoculars. “Should we knock on the door before it gets darker?”
“Good idea.” She’d already changed into comfortable clothing at the restaurant. Now, just in case, she withdrew a ball cap
from her purse, threaded her hair through the back, and donned the hat. After flipping down the car’s visor, she tucked the
stray hairs away and pulled the cap low on her forehead.
“Got a fake mustache in there?” Tyson wore an amused look.
“I’m afraid you’re on your own. If anyone answers, I’ll do the talking. People are more apt to trust a woman.”
“It’s all yours, Sherlock.”
The streets were quiet as they approached the house. The evening air was thick with the scent of roses. Ivy roped the stone
retaining wall leading up the lawn. They crossed the sidewalk and went up the five steps, then followed the short walkway
to the porch steps.
Jenna’s heart knocked against her rib cage. She wasn’t sure what she was more afraid of: that someone would be home or that
this whole trip would turn out to be a dead end.
At the door she shot Ty a nervous glance before she rang the bell. She listened for activity that might indicate someone was
beyond the door but couldn’t hear anything for the cars passing by and the distant wail of a siren.
After waiting a minute she knocked on the door. Ty was trying to see through the slit in the curtains, but it seemed dark
inside. Jenna glanced around the porch for clues about the occupants. Two sturdy chairs sandwiched a small round table. A
well-used broom leaned against the brick exterior, and two dead ferns sat on the thick porch ledge like sentinels who’d long
ago given up the guard.
Jenna knocked again, harder this time, then waited impatiently. “It doesn’t seem like anyone’s home.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Tyson pushed the lid of the wall-mounted mailbox upward and it squawked in protest.
“You can’t do that! Tampering with mail is a federal offense.”
“I’m not tampering. I’m taking a peek.”
Jenna glanced around. There was no one that she could see. Plus it was getting pretty dark and the porchlight was off.
Tyson held up the mail so the nearest light shone on the letters. “A piece of junk mail addressed to Gordon Smith or current
resident. Royal Caribbean, addressed to Gordon Smith. Draft Kings, Gordon Smith.” He stopped on a postcard from some retailer,
staring at it like it might hold the answers to life’s greatest questions.
“What? What is it?” Jenna leaned closer, squinting, but couldn’t make out the name.
After a beat he turned a worried look on her. “This one’s addressed to a Rosalind Smith.”