Chapter Twenty
Jenner Residence
Carnoustie Lane
Brenda was out of the car before Ben could round the hood. She stared up at the multistory home, her frustration building. Like Scott, Tate Jenner had chosen a home on the prestigious Ledges. Closer to the golf course, naturally.
The garage doors were shut so they had no way to determine if Lena’s SUV was here.
But there were lights on in the house. Brenda had only been to the Jenner home on a few occasions.
Christmas parties, mostly. Only once here, maybe two years ago.
An anniversary party for the couple, which, she assumed, was mostly because they had wanted to show off their new home.
The house was a carefully balanced blend of rustic country and elegance.
The wraparound porches provided the country touch to the exterior.
Inside were acres of wide plank wood flooring showcased by smooth white walls and rustic, natural beadboard.
It was all very stately and large. But that didn’t mean there weren’t secrets hiding in the dark corners.
All this time she had trusted the man she married to be the husband she thought he was.
She’d trusted these people to be who they presented themselves to be.
When had money become more important than the lives of others?
Anger beat in her veins, keeping time with the thud of her heart. She was sick to death of the lies…at the end of her rope with worry about Janey. She needed answers, and by God she intended to have them.
Ben pressed the doorbell. This one had an intricately carved brass piece surrounding the lit button, but not the sort that provided a live feed of who was at the door or the ability to communicate with them. She supposed such a high-tech device didn’t fit with the character of the home.
The door opened and seven-year-old Trek stood there.
“Don’t open the door!” The seemingly disembodied words floated from somewhere deeper in the house. Brenda recognized the voice as Lena’s.
“Hi, Trek.” Brenda barged past him.
The boy stared up at her. “Mom’s in the kitchen.” His dark eyes were wide and uncertain as if it was past his bedtime, but something kept him awake. He also probably understood, too late, that his mother would be angry that he’d opened the door.
“This is my friend Ben,” Brenda said as she continued forward, Ben beside her now.
The door closed and Trek rushed past them and shot up the stairs. Smart kid. He didn’t want to be down here when the proverbial poop hit the fan.
The entry hall cut through the center of the house from the front door to the kitchen.
The rooms on either side were enormous. A grand living room, dining room and picturesque library.
But it was the kitchen that focused on entertaining.
It ran the full width of the house…opened onto an equally large terrace with a pool and all manner of small, luxurious seating and entertaining niches tucked into the landscape beyond it.
On the right side of the kitchen, far from all else, were two doors.
One led to a pantry—the word was etched into the glass—and the other to the triple-car garage.
The door to the garage stood open, and Lena had just walked through and reached for a suitcase.
Two more of a matching luggage set stood next to the door.
Her long blond hair tucked up in a claw clasp, she wore jeans and a T-shirt.
So un-Lena-like. Brenda couldn’t help scrutinizing the pink tee for blood splatter or smears.
Lena was preparing to disappear.
She and Ben were just in time. Brenda had expected as much. “Hi, Lena. Going somewhere?”
The other woman allowed a moment of shock to flash across her face, but it quickly shifted to indignation. “What are you doing here?”
The emotions that charged through Brenda then almost undid her, but she snatched back control. “I guess you haven’t heard. My daughter is missing?”
Lena blinked but not quickly enough to hide her obvious surprise. “I had no idea…”
Barely able to hold back the rush of outrage, Brenda decided to give her something to think about. “I’m certainly glad your child is safe and sound at home with you. When this happens, it’s the not knowing that’s the most terrifying.”
Lena’s chin went up. “Whatever happened to your child is not my fault. I was smart enough not to get involved in the mess our husbands left behind.”
Brenda laughed long and loud. When she finally regained her composure, she said simply, “I didn’t have a choice.”
“Well, you have no one but Scott to blame for that.” She reached for one of the suitcases on the floor. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my son and I are preparing for our annual trip to Miami.”
“Funny,” Brenda countered, “I’ve never heard of those annual trips.
I thought you preferred Barbados. Did your attorney approve your travel?
Oh.” Brenda made a knowing face. “Were you aware he’s also representing the cartel thug who broke into my house?
Sounds like you might be more involved than you realize. ”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She glanced at Ben. “Who is this?”
“Ben Clark,” he answered. “I’m with the Colby Agency of Chicago. I’m investigating this case.”
She looked taken aback by the news. Had she not heard? Cummings wasn’t keeping her informed?
“How dare you bring a stranger into my home,” she snapped. “How do you know this man is who he says he is? It’s exactly this sort of naivete that has you in trouble, Brenda.”
“Because I confirmed who he is.” Brenda took a step in her direction. “He is the only person in all of this who’s helping me find the truth—everyone else is either lying to me or hiding the truth.”
“Why would I believe you?”
“I don’t care what you believe.” Brenda was done with trying to explain.
“But did you know that someone from the cartel shot your husband before the explosion? That one of the people at the office when that explosion happened was an FBI agent? At least we think he was. Considering what we know about Agent Cummings, we can’t be sure. ”
Lena froze, that paralyzed-by-terror expression on her face. “What do you mean?”
Brenda turned to Ben. “Should we tell her?”
Ben shrugged. “I suspect she already knows. She just wants to see if you actually know.”
“Oh.” Brenda turned back to the woman whose child had played with her own on so many occasions. “Cummings works for the cartel. The same one that shot your husband and blew up the firm. The one who is threatening me and who took my daughter hostage.”
“You can’t prove any of this,” Lena argued.
“I can’t,” Brenda admitted. “But I’m sure Detective Shelton will figure it out while he’s investigating the man’s murder.”
This time Lena grabbed at the door facing as if the news had shaken her balance. “What’re you talking about?”
“The man who called himself Agent Jarrod Cummings is dead, Ms. Jenner,” Ben warned. “If the people who sent him couldn’t protect him or turned on him for some reason, how do you know the same thing won’t happen to you?”
“If you know anything,” Brenda urged, “about who took my daughter, you need to tell me. Please.”
“I don’t know anything about your daughter.” Lena turned to go back into the garage.
Ben walked to the door, picked up the last of the suitcases and joined her. “You won’t be able to get away from them, Ms. Jenner. These aren’t the sort of people you can outrun.”
Brenda waited at the door, listening to the exchange in hopes Lena would break down and say something helpful.
Lena stared at Brenda as Ben put the suitcases in the back of her SUV. “You don’t understand,” she argued. “You have no idea what I had to promise them…what I had to do to protect my son.”
Her eyes widened as if she’d only just considered that she hadn’t seen or heard him in several minutes.
“He went upstairs,” Brenda explained.
Lena glared at her. “You need to leave.” She turned to Ben. “Now.”
Ben walked toward Brenda. “She’s right. We should go. She can’t help us.”
Brenda wanted to argue, but defeat had punched her hard in the gut. She took one last long look at Lena before walking away.
Before they reached the front door, Trek rushed down the stairs and headed to the kitchen. Brenda fought back the tears. She refused to cry right now. She had to be strong. She had to find Janey.
Ben said nothing as they walked back to his car. She waited while he performed the necessary check before getting into the passenger seat. A whole minute of painful silence elapsed as they drove down the twisty mountain road.
When she couldn’t take it anymore, Brenda asked, “Why didn’t we stay and follow her or something?”
She didn’t want to be disappointed in the decision Ben had made, but she was. She was certain Lena knew more than she had shared.
He slowed near the guard shack to wait for the gate to open, and then at the traffic signal he stopped.
He picked up his cell and opened an app.
A map appeared with a red dot blinking in the center of the screen.
“That,” he explained, “is the tracking device I placed in her vehicle. We’ll wait in the parking lot across the street and follow her. ”
Brenda wanted to hug him. The relief gushing through her almost made speech impossible. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“We’ve got this, Brenda.”
For the first time since this nightmare started, she thought they just might.
Target Parking Lot
Carl T Jones Drive
Huntsville, 10:20 p.m.
Ben shut off the engine. The headlights went dark, leaving only the streetlamps scattered across the parking lot to chase away the darkness.
Brenda needed Lena Jenner to lead her to wherever Janey was being held.
Maybe she was a fool to believe that was a possibility, but she was desperate. They were out of options.
There was no one left to turn to.
If Scott was still alive—despite what Lanier had said—and wasn’t actively helping with the search for Janey…