Chapter Eight
Jessica pushed her cart through the local grocery store, ignoring the curious looks being tossed her way.
Owen had started his new job earlier that week, leaving Jess alone during the day to finish unpacking and decorate their humble abode.
The first thing on her agenda had been to put some food in the house. She’d already grown tired of carry out.
“Jessica!”
Jess looked up from her perusal of the cold food section to find Mrs. Hawthorn standing next to her. “Hi, Marge.”
The short, plump blonde studied the items in Jessica’s cart. “That’s a lot of carbs. I’d be careful if I were you. You’ll end up a diabetic like me.”
Unsure of how to respond, Jess turned and plucked up a very expensive gallon of milk. “Is this the only grocery store in town?”
Marge nodded. “There’s one in Morhaven, but that’s about twenty miles from here.”
“That explains why the prices are so high.” Jess placed the milk in her cart. “They have no competition.”
Marge picked up a pack of cheese. “You got that right.”
A thought occurred to Jess. She snagged a bag of shredded cheese, pretending to read the label. “What do you know about the people in the red brick house across the street from yours?”
“The Martins?” Marge’s voice took on a gossiping tone. “I know more than I want to. Of course, the entire neighborhood knows their business. Especially when Eustice is drinking. Which is pretty much every day.”
“Does he mistreat his wife?”
Marge’s voice lowered to a whisper as if she feared being overheard. “He beats on her. Why do you ask? Did you see something?”
Careful not to divulge too much, Jess whispered back, “No, but I could hear him yelling at her.”
Marge stepped in closer. “Not that I know this for a fact, mind you, but rumor has it that Gerri couldn’t have children due to some female issues, and Eustice blamed her for it. Which, in my opinion, is the reason he puts his hands on her.”
Now that she had Marge talking, Jess decided to steer the conversation in a different direction. “So, the Martin’s own that old abandoned house next door?”
“They do. Although, I can’t imagine why. They bought it about thirteen years ago after that little Dayton boy came up missing.”
A strange sensation poured through Jess. “I hadn’t heard about that.”
“He lived in that house next door to you.”
Placing the shredded cheese back onto the shelf, Jess pretended to search for a different kind. “What happened to his parents?”
“The place ended up in foreclosure with the Dayton’s spending all their time and resources searching for the child. The Martins bought it after the bank forced the Daytons out.”
Jessica’s heart went out to the Daytons. She knew exactly how hard it must have been for them to leave the home their son had lived in. She met Marge’s gaze. “I wonder why the Martins don’t rent it out or sell it?”
Marge shrugged. “Eustice claims that it would take too much money to fix it up enough to sell or rent. Says that once he retires, he’ll sink some cash into it and unload it then.”
Dropping the cheese into her cart, Jessica forced a smile. “Well, I’d better be going. I have a few more errands to run on my way home. It was nice chatting with you, Marge.”
“You too, my dear.”
Jess paid for her groceries, loaded them into her small SUV, and drove straight home. She hated lying to Marge about having errands to run, but she’d done what she needed to do to prevent an hour-long gossip-fest from taking place.
Once the groceries were put away, Jess trailed off into the spare room they’d turned into an office and booted up her laptop. It came alive with a hum, going through the designated prompts until the sign on screen appeared.
She entered the passcode, tapping her foot beneath the desk while she waited patiently for the search engine to load. She then typed in: Missing Florida boy/Dayton.
Several results popped up onto the screen. Everything from Missing-Seven-year-old Sparkleberry Hills child, to Suspicion surrounding Terry Dayton’s disappearance.
His name was Terry, Jess thought, clicking on one of the articles, only to recoil when they boy’s picture came into view. Staring back at her from the screen of her computer was the very boy she’d seen in the window of the house next door. The same house he’d lived in when he’d disappeared.
She covered her mouth with a trembling hand, unable to look away from the small boy’s face.
His long dark hair appeared unkept, framing his thin face and resting just above his large, green eyes—eyes that held mischief, and something else she couldn’t name. Sadness?
Her gaze traveled down to the same striped T-shirt he’d had on the day she and Owen had moved in.
She forced her attention to the article below Terry’s image. Seven-year-old Terry Dayton went missing from his home on January tenth.
Jessica noticed the date in the article. Terry had been missing for thirteen years, just as Marge had said.
She continued to read. Terry’s parents, Jasper and Melanie Dayton have offered a fifty-thousand-dollar reward for any information leading to the whereabouts of their son. Suspicion surrounding his disappearance is being investigated, though no charges have been filed at this time.
With her heart pounding out of control, and her pulse thumping in her temples, Jessica finished reading the article before moving on to another. And on it went. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there soaking up everything she could on the missing boy when the sound of a car door came from the drive.
Jess glanced at the corner of the computer screen in shock. She’d been sitting there reading non-stop for the past three hours.
“I’m home,” Owen announced as he came through the front door. “Jess?”
Jessica closed the lid to the laptop, not wanting to reveal what she’d been reading. If Owen had any idea that she thought the boy she’d seen in that upstairs window was the missing child from thirteen years ago, he would think her crazy. Truth be told, she’d wondered the same thing herself.