Chapter 6

6

T he late afternoon sun hid behind a patch of gray clouds, turning the air even colder. Jenna wrestled Oliver out of his car seat, careful not to wake him. She tucked a blanket over his little shoulders and made her way down the gravel driveway toward the square stoop where Calvin waited.

Dread weighed down each step. She'd jumped at the chance to meet Calvin at Stella's home—insisted to join him actually. She wanted a glimpse into the life her sister had created for herself, no matter how difficult it'd be.

Especially with Oliver on her hip.

As much as a part of her always hoped she'd have Stella back in her life one day, she'd never been able to picture how that would work. Would Oliver be connected to Stella in a different way? Would he cry for her, laugh for her, whine for her and twist her heart?

Sighing, she closed her eyes and lifted her face skyward, relishing the rustle of wind against her cheeks. She gave herself a few more seconds before continuing toward the house.

The home looked identical to the rest of the white bungalows lined up on the pot-hole riddled street. Small and simple. But the outside boasted what looked like new siding and a decorated lawn. Pride of ownership was evident from the window boxes filled with artificial flowers to the scalloped edges on the mailbox screwed to the house.

Calvin waited for her with his hands shoved in his pockets and a frown she swore was now permanent on his handsome face. "You didn't have to come," he said as he unlocked the door. He chanced a quick peek at Oliver before settling his gaze back on her.

"Yes, I did. I might see something you'd miss, and I wanted to be closer to my sister. To see what she'd made of her life."

Calvin nodded and grabbed the wooden edge of the door, holding it for Jenna to enter. "Try not to touch anything. I'm sure the police have already been by and grabbed what they need, but they could come back. You don't need to be leaving prints everywhere. Especially if you're a suspect."

She stepped past him and studied the open concept which connected the kitchen with the living room. Colorful pillows covered the worn couch. Familiar knickknacks and Stella's favorite throw blanket decorated the space and were like a knife in the gut. How many times had she snuggled under that blanket to watch a movie with her sister? How many times had she teased her over her silly ceramic frog collection now covered in dust on the windowsill?

"You okay?" Calvin asked.

Jenna sniffed back her emotions and stepped further into the home. "I don't know. This is so surreal. Seeing so many of her things in a place I've never been. I wish I would have known her this last year. Could have been the one to help her stay on the straight and narrow."

A gentle hand on her shoulder loosened the ball of emotion squeezing her lungs. She glanced up into Calvin's warm, steady eyes and almost melted against him.

"You can't keep doing this to yourself," he said. "You were a damn good sister. And now you can do one more thing for Stella. You can find the person who did this to her and help put them behind bars."

An invisible string tethered her to him, refusing to let her move. His words absolved her of some of the guilt she carried on her shoulders, but nothing would take it all away.

Oliver wiggled in her arms, a small moan rumbling from his little chest.

Calvin moved his hand from her shoulder to the top of Oliver's head. He stroked his palm across Oliver's chubby cheek. "Shhh, little guy. You're okay. Your mama's got ya."

A vise squeezed her heart. She bounced up and down in an attempt to keep Oliver sleeping a little while longer.

"Can you lay him on the couch?" Calvin asked. "I can make a pillow wall or something to keep him safe. Or maybe you should sit. He looks kind of heavy."

A smile tugged at her lips. "He's huge, and growing like a weed, but I don't mind carrying him. I would have left him home, but my sitter was supposed to have the whole day off."

"Okay." Calvin took a step away and she immediately missed the feel of his body so close. "I'm going to poke around. I'll start in the back of the house if you want to search in the kitchen and living room. Look for names, recent photos with friends, anything that could lead us anywhere. If being here gets too difficult or you need me for anything, just yell."

Nodding, she waited for Calvin to disappear down the hall before pressing a kiss to Oliver's forehead and walking into the kitchen. Stella was never much of a cook, opting for fast food or waiting for Jenna to fix her a meal. But the quaint kitchen with organized cabinets and a well-stocked fridge told the story of a different woman.

A woman Jenna had never known.

Poking around the tidy space twisted the dagger in her middle more and more until the pain was almost unbearable. Neatly stacked plates and bowls with pretty patterns shouldn't cause such an intense reaction, but the idea her sister had finally gotten her life on track without her made each breath harder than the next.

Maybe Calvin had been right all those years ago. She hadn't helped her sister, she'd enabled her. She'd held her back and reminded her of her mistakes, shackling her to the image she'd never been able to shed. At least not while Jenna was around.

Needing to sit, she lowered herself on the hard chair at the two-person table. She shifted Oliver in her arms. A stack of unopened envelopes sat on top of a large black book. Intrigued, she pushed the mail to the side.

Interesting. A Bible. They hadn't grown up in a religious household, and by the time their parents had been killed in a car accident, taking Stella to church was the last thing on Jenna's mind. She'd been too busy figuring out how to make it through medical school while balancing a serious relationship and taking on the responsibilities of her younger sister.

Jenna ran her finger along the indented words on the cover of the Bible then flipped it open. A picture of the two of them from Jenna's high school graduation was wedged inside. Jenna swallowed past the lump lodged in her throat. She and Stella wore matching smiles, their hair long and straight. Stella had been so young, so full of possibilities. Jenna would give anything to go back in time and relive this moment. To have this sister back.

Needing to be close to Stella again in some way, she picked up the photo, revealing thick black ink scrawled across the page underneath.

To Stella,

May God bless you and keep you safe and well. Trust in Him and your path will be bright.

Tears flowed down Jenna's cheeks, and she pressed the photo to her breaking heart. As much as she wished she could have been a part of Stella's life and cheer her on as she struggled to beat her addiction, she was glad she'd found some peace.

Determination surged through her, chasing away the fear and sadness and guilt. Stella's peace had been hard fought and way too short lived. Someone had stolen her future—her dreams. And Jenna wouldn't rest until that person was thrown in jail and justice was served.

Calvin pushed open the third door, hoping to find something more than the nothing he uncovered in the lone bathroom and spare room. He'd figured the police had already confiscated anything that could aid in the investigation, but he'd hoped for at least a breadcrumb or two. So far, all he'd found was a shit load of makeup and a closet full of shoes.

Fingers crossed, Stella's bedroom would unveil some of the answers he needed to prove Jenna's innocence. He didn't need to find Stella's killer, that was the police's job, he just needed to make sure Jenna didn't take the fall. Then he could go back to his lonely life without Jenna and her child getting under his skin.

Shadows covered the corners of the bedroom, the glow from the hallway sweeping in through the slightly opened door. A sweet scent lingered in the air, as if Stella had sprayed something before leaving the room for the last time.

He studied his options. Not much furniture fit in the small room. A queen-sized bed, a tall dresser, a chair squeezed in the corner, and a narrow nightstand. No photos or discarded notes were out in the open. Again, nothing left behind to give him any insight into Stella's personal life. His best hope was to find something the police had overlooked.

Something Stella kept hidden.

Most people buried secrets in the same two places—stuffed in a drawer or under the bed. Dropping to his knees, he brushed aside the gray bed skirt and peered beneath the metal frame.

Nothing. Not even a stray piece of clothing or a tumbling dust bunny.

He sat on his heels and slid his hand between the mattress and the box spring. His fingers glided over the cotton fabric stapled against the box spring, but nothing snagged against his hand. Turning his palm upward, he pressed his fingertips along the bumps and grooves of the mattress. His index finger slipped inside a tiny slit, and excitement bubbled in his throat.

He swiveled his finger around the hole until the rough edges of paper rubbed his flesh. He stuffed more of his hand through the opening, wrapped his palm around a cluster of cards and pulled them out from beneath the mattress.

Falling to his ass, Calvin smoothed the wrinkled papers and read through the first one. His breath caught in his throat. This was saved from a local florist, a treasured token hidden away. A sentence neatly written professed love and devotion to Stella. He got to the end and disappointment crushed down on him.

No signature.

He flipped to the next card and the next, but none boasted a name other than Stella's at the top, followed by another sappy sentence. Grabbing his phone from his pocket, he opened his camera and took pictures of every card. He could read them when they left. Right now, he needed to put the papers where he'd found them then find out if Jenna knew anything about Stella's love life.

Lifting the edge of the mattress, Calvin found the man-made hole and stuffed the papers back inside. He clamored to his feet, flattening the soft patchwork quilt on the bed to hide evidence that he'd tampered with anything in Stella's room, then went in search of Jenna.

He stepped into the kitchen, and the tortured expression twisting Jenna's face almost took him out like a baseball bat to the knees. He rounded the table and crouched beside her. "Hey. What happened?"

She thrust a picture at him and used her free hand to wipe her eyes. "I found this in a Bible. Looks like she'd found God. That religion may have helped her get sober."

Unable to stop himself, he brushed a stray strand of hair from her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. "That's a good thing, isn't it?"

She lifted one shoulder, the one without a sleeping toddler rested against it. "Yes. No. I don't know. I'm glad she found what she needed, I just wish…hell, I don't know. I wish she were still alive and maybe we could have mended our relationship. Found a way to move forward as a family, as friends."

He had no words to make her feel better or change the way things were. He wished like hell he did. Wished he could take away her hurt and sadness. Wished he could wrap his arms around her and offer the support and comfort she needed.

Instead, he found her a tissue and waited for her to pull herself together.

"Sorry," she said, dabbing the tissue on her moist cheeks. "The last thing you want is to hear me cry about Stella and how crappy our relationship ended."

"I never wanted that for you two. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy."

Her jaw dropped, and she finally looked at him. "I never really apologized to you. I should have—" The piercing sound of her ringtone interrupted her words. "I should get that before it wakes Oliver."

Needing space, he stood and let loose a shuddering breath as he paced to the far end of the kitchen. He tapped his fingertips against the side of his thighs. Anxious energy swirled through his body, searching for release.

Jenna used to be that release.

But that was before. Before she broke his heart. He needed to hold onto the pain and disappointment and bitterness. He couldn't slip into old habits—couldn't get too close to her. Not again. He couldn't survive losing her a second time.

"That was Officer Sawyer," she said, regaining his attention.

Forcing his body to be still, he faced her. "What'd he want?"

"He asked me to come in to see him tomorrow. He has some questions. Should I bring a lawyer?"

He shrugged. "That's up to you. A preliminary questioning like this isn't a surprise, and my guess is he just wants a better understanding of your relationship with Stella. To know more about you. If he had solid evidence, you'd already be in handcuffs."

She shuddered. "That's a scary thought."

"One you don't need to worry about because you haven't done anything wrong. Go talk to him, and if things get too intense, ask for a lawyer. That'll buy us some more time."

"Did you find anything?"

He debated how much to tell her. He wanted to know her thoughts about what he'd found, but he didn't want her to lie to the police about how much she knew about her sister. "I did, but I think it'd be better if I tell you after your meeting with Cruz."

Her furrowed brow displayed her confusion, but instead of asking him why, she simply nodded. "Okay."

Her willingness to trust him without question unfurled something inside him, and he wasn't sure if he liked that or not.

"Do you think I could take the Bible with me?" Jenna tucked the photo back inside and held it against her chest. "It makes me feel closer to Stella for some reason. Maybe because she kept such a sweet picture of the two of us inside."

He wasn't sure if it was a good idea or not, but couldn't tell her no. "Take it. Go home and get some rest. It's been a long day."

And he had a feeling that each day would be longer than the last until the real killer was found and he could close the door on Jenna forever.