Chapter Twenty-Nine

Nate

I agreed to take Jenna to the police as soon as she showed me the note. We’d been cautious ever since the fire, but this was important enough to take my car down to the station. I took her as soon as I finished my shift.

The police station was quiet. Not much happened in this small town. So little, in fact, that when we entered, the officer behind the desk knew exactly who we were.

I recognized her, too. Her name was Rachel. We’d been on the same call-out more than once in the line of duty. I gave her a nod when I entered.

“Hi Rachel, how’s it going?”

“Nate. Are you here about the fire?”

“We’ve got new evidence.”

“I’m not in charge of the investigation, but I’ll get you the man who is.”

“Thanks.”

Rachel disappeared into the lobby of the station to find the lead detective on the case.

I turned to Jenna and smiled at her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m doing fine.”

“Still got the note?”

“Right here.”

She pulled it out her purse and showed it to me. Even the sight of that little scrap of paper made my hands curl into fists. When I’d read Victor’s latest note, I’d been furious. His other notes had been taunting, but this one was an obvious threat. I didn’t take kindly to men making threats against Jenna.

“You did the right thing telling me about the note, Jenna. I know it’s hard standing your ground and having to deal with things like this, but something like this might end up being the key to bringing him down.”

“I hope so.”

An investigator appeared. He was a tall, serious-looking man in his late forties, with silver sideburns and thin lips set expressionlessly in his face. He wore a pressed gray suit and was carrying the case file in his hands. “Miss Dawson, is it? I’m Detective Billings, and I am the lead on the Walton Apartments case. I’ve been told you may have some new information for us?”

Jenna looked over at me with fear in her expression, as if she were losing her nerve. The note was clenched tightly in her hands.

I answered for her, reaching over to shake the detective’s hand. “Yes, Detective. We believe we do.”

“It is your ex-boyfriend—Victor Malone, isn’t it?—that is one of the prime suspects for this crime. Is that right, Miss Dawson?”

“It’s Jenna, and yes. That’s correct. He’s been stalking me.”

“Do you have the police records of any of his past behaviors?”

“All I have is the restraining order against him.”

“I see. And has he been harassing you for a long time?”

“Ever since I left him, about eighteen months ago.”

Detective Billings leafed through his file, leaning against the counter at the reception of the station. He reminded himself of some of the key details of the case and nodded slowly.

“You had some notes from him several weeks ago, didn’t you? Ones you found in your PO box that you believed to be from him.”

“They’re definitely from him. I know his handwriting,” Jenna answered.

“And what’s the new evidence you have for us?”

Jenna handed over the note.

Detective Billings scanned it and nodded again. His expression had hardly changed from the moment we stepped in the door. He just slowly made another note.

“I agree that these notes are cause for concern. And you received this today?”

“My friend collected my mail for me. I don’t know when this was posted.”

“You already have some officers checking in on you, correct?”

“They drive by every couple of hours.”

“I’m going to make that more frequent for you, and I’m going to keep this note as evidence. We’re doing all we can, Jenna.”

Jenna was nodding, looking downcast. Maybe she had expected more from the police. After all, she was being terrorized. A whole building had been set on fire, and she’d been the target. She was terrified and needed help.

I stepped in front of her and addressed the detective. “And what exactly is that, Detective Billings? We’ve heard nothing about this case since the investigation began. There’s a maniac out there on the loose, and he’s after Jenna. I appreciate your officers driving by, but considering the danger Jenna is in, it’s not enough. We need to know what is being done to catch this man.”

Detective Billings nodded again, still without a change in his expression. He beckoned for us to follow him, and began to lead us towards his private office in the building. Once inside, he invited us to sit in front of his desk. He sat down on the other side and began typing into his computer.

“We haven’t been resting on our laurels. We’ve been looking for the culprit of this crime. We have recovered some traffic camera footage of a vehicle speeding away just after the time it is believed the fire was started.” He turned the screen to face us. “Do you recognize this vehicle?”

Jenna and I both leaned forward and squinted at the image. It was grainy, and black and white, and hard to make out much. I could tell that the vehicle was a truck.

“We’ve run the plates, and we have identified the vehicle as a red Chevrolet Colorado truck.”

I turned towards Jenna and tried to read her face. She looked confused and frustrated. She shook her head. “That’s not the truck he used to have, but I guess he might be driving something new.”

“It’s registered to a James Norton.”

“Do you know who that is, Jenna?” I asked her.

Jenna shook her head again. I could see the tears of frustration beginning to well in her eyes. “I don’t know who that is, but I know it was Victor who set that fire. It has to be.”

“It could be borrowed,” the detective offered, “or stolen.”

“I just don’t know,” Jenna said. “It seems like a lot to change his truck and hide the registration when he’s happy to leave notes that point right to him.”

“He thinks he’s untouchable, that’s why,” I said. “Or maybe he thought you wouldn’t share the notes.”

“Well, if he’s still watching, he knows now.”

I shook Detective Billings’ hand again. “Thank you for your time.”

“If you notice anything suspicious, or receive any more notes, we’ll be right here.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a business card, which he handed to Jenna. “That’s my number if you need to reach me.”

We left the building and returned to my car. Jenna seemed deflated. She hung her head and walked slowly.

“What’s wrong?”

She sighed. “I just don’t understand Victor, that’s all. Whose truck is it?”

“Maybe it was one that was impounded by the police.”

Jenna’s eyes lit up, and she nodded quickly. “I bet you’re right. I bet it’s stolen evidence. Easy enough for him to get his hands on.”

“At least we know that they’re doing something. They found that footage, after all. It’s good to know they’re not just sitting on their hands.”

“And at least we know what we’re looking out for. A red Chevrolet Colorado truck.”

Jenna fell silent for a while as I drove back to mine. She was quiet and contemplative, with her arms folded over her chest and her gaze distant. She looked better, but she still wasn’t quite herself.

When she spoke next, it was with stony determination. “I’m going to call Mrs. Gatsby and tell her I’m coming back to work.”

I frowned and cast Jenna a sideways glance. She had her jaw set and her eyes forward on the road. She looked about as determined as anyone I’d ever seen. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“It’s been a week. I left Victor eighteen months ago. Eighteen months, Nate. I should know that Victor’s not going to give up and go away, so I’ve got to make a choice: stay in hiding forever, or get back out there, knowing that he’s out there too.”

“I think you should lie low a while longer.”

The thought of Jenna returning to work filled me with unease. Victor was still out there, and he was probably watching all the places he knew that Jenna frequented. He probably had eyes on the apartment, eyes on my house, and definitely eyes on where Jenna worked. If she went back there, it was too easy for him to follow her.

“If I stay hidden, he wins. That’s what he wants—for my whole life to stop.”

“I know what you’re saying, Jenna, but it’s too much of a risk.”

“Mrs. Gatsby is a lovely woman, but she won’t hold my job open forever. I’ve already lost my peace of mind and my apartment. I refuse to lose my job, too.”

I admired Jenna’s grit, but I feared for her. For Kacey, too. Yet I knew that Jenna had a point. We had no idea how long Victor would continue to stalk her, or just how long it might be before he got caught by the authorities. Jenna’s life could just slip away while she was waiting for Victor to appear.

“What if he starts following you again?”

“At least now I know what vehicle to look out for. If I spot a red truck following me, I’ll drive straight to the police station.”

It wasn’t enough. I didn’t want Jenna to be on her own. Then again, Kacey had already had to go back to work herself. She couldn’t stay away from her job forever, either. That meant Jenna was alone in Kacey’s townhouse during the days.

Maybe she was safer at the school with other people around.

“I want you to call Detective Billings before you make any decisions. See what he thinks about it.”

“I can’t hide forever, Nate. The reason I didn’t run this time is because I finally have a life that makes me happy. If I’m not living that life, then I should have run away and spared everyone the fire.”

“Jenna…”

“Please, Nate. I need to start moving again, or I’ll go crazy. Every little sound is making me jump a mile. I can’t sleep. I’m hiding every time someone knocks at the door or passes by the window. I need some normalcy back in my life, or I’m going to lose my mind.”

“What does Kacey think?”

“I spoke to her about it last night. She agrees that I should get back out there. She said if I’m ready, then I should go for it.”

I could imagine my sister saying that. Kacey wasn’t one for sitting around feeling sorry for herself, and she wasn’t one to back down. She was a survivor, and she encouraged others to fight back too.

“It’s up to you, Jenna, but you have to be careful. Call Detective Billings and see if he can get some officers to escort you to work. See if some cameras can get set up or something. I just don’t want him to get you on your own.”

“He’s not just going to go away. One day, I’m going to come face to face with him again, Nate.”

“Maybe you will, but it’ll be in a court room, where it should be.”

Jenna didn’t say another word but turned to the window again.

She was adamant about returning to work, and I couldn’t blame her. If I were in her position, I’d do the same thing. Having a purpose gets you through hard times, and without her work, Jenna didn’t know what her purpose was. She was growing listless and going mad inside four walls. She wanted to enjoy her life. I couldn’t blame her for that.