Chapter 8

8

T he morning sun did little to chase away the brisk autumn air as Calvin stood in front of the old Victorian house in the center of town. The scalloped edging along the dark green trim reminded him of a dollhouse his sister had played with as a child. A small turret boasted bay windows on both the first floor and second. Worn brick told him the home might be as old as the farmhouse he'd put so much love into.

After dealing with the police about the break-in at his house the night before, Calvin had convinced Dean to stick around and help him with the case. They'd both agreed in order to clear Jenna's name, they needed another name that could be a potential suspect. A thorough dive into Stella's social media platforms had given Calvin the name he wanted.

Ryan Billings.

Pictures plastered across Stella's profile page had shown a once-happy couple that had spent quite a bit of time together. Then nothing. Now he needed to find out what happened to end their relationship, and if Ryan was angry enough about their split to kill Stella.

Checking to make sure no one watched through the front window, he sneaked around to the back of the house. A privacy fence enclosed the small back yard. A thick tree stump sat near the corner of the high boundary. Calvin hopped onto the flat, sawed-down stump and rose to his tiptoes. A square shed dominated most of the yard, a patch of concrete leading in through the large gate.

He slowly lowered himself from the stump. Rounding the corner of the house to return to the front, he climbed the worn porch steps. Stained glass made an octagon at the top of the door, bouncing prisms of light around the dirty floorboards. He pressed the bell and waited.

The sound of hurried footsteps came closer. He pulled back his shoulders and lifted his chin just enough to convey authority. Without a badge, people weren't always willing to speak with him. He'd learned over the years the best ways to get them talking. Acting like he belonged there was always the first step.

"Hold on. I'm coming." The loud voice penetrated the closed wood. The door swung open to a man not much older than Calvin. His face was flushed as if he'd ran a mile. His mossy green eyes held interest and dirt clung to his stained sweatshirt and worn jeans. "Hello. Can I help you?"

Calvin extended a hand. He gave one healthy shake before releasing his hold and letting his hand drop to his side. "Good afternoon. I'm here to speak with Ryan Billings."

"That's me. What can I help you with?" The interest stayed in his eyes, but his shoulders tensed.

"My name is Calvin Spradling. I hoped I could speak with you about Stella Ryan." He'd debated how to approach the topic but didn't want to make this conversation any longer than necessary. Best to get straight to the point.

Ryan's face crumbled and his jaw clenched as if he bit down hard on something. "Who are you? And why do you have questions about Stella?"

"I'm a private investigator." He studied the other man's reaction, but only sorrow spilled from his crest-fallen expression.

The tips of Ryan's eyebrows dipped low. "Why do you want information from me about Stella?"

"Because I need to find out who killed her."

Ryan leaned against the still open door and gripped the handle. "Don't you think I want to know who killed her? I loved her."

"Do you still love her? Even after you split up?"

He locked his unwavering gaze on Calvin. "Have you ever been in love?"

Calvin shuffled his feet. Answering questions about his love life wasn't something he really wanted to do. "Yes."

"Then you know it's not something that easily comes and goes."

Nerves clenched Calvin's stomach muscles, but he needed to push on, not focus on feelings for Jenna that refused to stop. "Why did you two break up?"

Sighing, Ryan rubbed the back of his neck. "She dumped me. Said she was too busy with work and didn't have time for a relationship. I knew it was a bullshit excuse, but she refused to say anything more. I always suspected there was someone else, but I guess now I'll never know."

"Did you send her flowers to try and get her back?"

Ryan's head reared back, confusion pinching his face. "Flowers? What the hell are you talking about?"

Calvin tried to gauge Ryan's authenticity. Did he really believe Stella had met someone else, someone she refused to reveal? Could he be the one who'd sent her flowers? Or possibly been so angry the love of his life left him that he refused to let anyone else have her? "I'm sorry for your loss. It's never easy losing someone you love."

Ryan smacked together his lips. "No. It's not. Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do." Retreating into the house without another word, he slammed the door.

Calvin headed back to his truck. He'd reached another dead end, as long as Ryan Billings was telling the truth. He needed to talk to Jenna. She and Stella might have had a falling out the last couple of years, but no one knew Stella better than Jenna. She may have more answers than she realized.

As he made his way to his truck, his phone buzzed in his pocket. A quick glance at the screen displayed the Pine Valley Police Department's number. His heart raced.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Calvin. It's Cruz. You can pick up your truck when you get a chance."

Deflated, he squeezed the phone. As much as he wanted his vehicle back, he'd hoped for news regarding the case. "Great. I'm actually not far. I can stop by now and get it. Maybe we can chat for a few minutes about where the investigation stands."

A beat of silence pulsed through the phone, raising the hairs on Calvin's arm.

"What's wrong?"

Cruz sighed. "I'm headed to Stella's place. There was a break-in. I left your keys above the visor in your truck. I'll call you if there's anything I need from you or Jenna."

Calvin disconnected and jogged down the quiet street to his truck. Screw waiting around for a call that would probably never come. Time to be a squeaky wheel or whatever the hell that expression was.

But first, he had to speak with Jenna.

While Jenna waited for Elsie to finish helping a young woman—the newest guest at the shelter—find the perfect outfit to wear to an upcoming interview, Jenna lost herself in the mundane task of organizing clothes. She folded a tiny piece of clothing, resisting the urge to lift it to her nose and inhale any lingering baby scents, then laid it on the growing pile on the table in front of her. Reaching into the donation bag, she grabbed another onesie.

Her heart lurched. It seemed like only yesterday she was dressing Oliver in cute little outfits. Constantly changing them after a blowout or spilled baby food. Now her baby was turning into a toddler. Wearing big boy clothes and offering opinions about which dinosaur t-shirt he preferred. She loved watching him grow, but each new phase brought with it a mourning period for the one he left behind.

And leaving behind the baby stage filled with infinite snuggles and total innocence was much harder than she anticipated.

She'd needed this. Needed a second to forget her worries and think about others—think about her boy, who always filled her life with joy. Needed to help the women she'd come to care so much about while also connecting with her friend.

Her earlier answers to the officer's questions returned to her mind. Had she cleared her name? Had she presented herself in the best way, or just dug a bigger hole?

So much for forgetting her problems.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Elsie's sweet southern drawl broke into her spiraling thoughts.

Jenna smoothed the last piece of clothing on top of the pile and sighed. "I have way too many thoughts spinning around in this head to even know where to start."

Elsie hooked an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into a tight half-hug. "I'm so sorry for everything you're going through. A death of a loved one is never easy to navigate."

Guilt chomped down on her gut. Yes, she was struggling with the death of her sister, but she was struggling with so much more. Her feelings for Calvin front in center, when her only focus should be on finding justice for Stella.

"I'd hoped to help you organize the room and escape reality for a while." She flicked her wrist toward the cluttered space that would soon serve as the makeshift shop for women in the shelter to find whatever they'd need during their stay. Right now, boxes and bags cluttered the room while empty clothes racks from Elsie's store stood on one wall, ready to be filled with undiscovered treasures.

"I can see your wheels going round and round, so I don't think you're escaping anything." Elsie brushed her long, strawberry blond bangs off her forehead with the back of her hand then sat cross-legged on the wood floor beside Jenna. She scooted a giant bag her way and rummaged through the contents. "Trust me, I'll take all the help I can get, but sometimes it's good for the soul to talk things through."

Jenna swallowed hard, debating what to say—what to admit. "I'm gutted over the loss of my sister, and still in shock about how everything's playing out. Then there's the PI who's helping me. Our past is… Complicated."

"How so?"

"He's my ex." Jenna cringed at the description. Calvin was so much more than just some ex-boyfriend from her past, something that'd been blaringly obvious the past couple of days.

Elsie's eyes widened and her mouth formed a small O.

"Exactly."

"Exactly what?" Mrs. Collins said, appearing as if from thin air.

"Just filling Elsie in on the horror show that has become my life," Jenna said, offering Mrs. Collins a small wave.

Mrs. Collins' exaggerated frown spoke volumes as she crossed the room and wrapped Jenna in a hug. "Things have taken an unexpected and tragic turn, and I'm sorry for that. But you have a beautiful son, a job you love, and a bright future once you wade through your shock and grief. Now, I'm not saying that'll be easy, but you're strong."

Jenna sighed, appreciating the tough love and support. "You're right. I know. But it's not just my sister and the grief. It's spending time with my ex. He was the man I thought I'd marry one day."

"And why didn't you?" Mrs. Collins shifted to keep one arm firmly around Jenna.

"I messed up." The admission loosened the tension she'd carried with her for so long like air leaking from a balloon. When Stella's drugs had been found and she'd placed the blame on Calvin, ending his time in the police academy, Jenna had been so torn. She'd wanted to be there for both of them—she'd loved them both so much.

But Calvin had asked her to choose, and Stella had guilted her with sobs and pleas for help. She'd picked her sister and never really apologized to Calvin.

Mrs. Collins shrugged. "Then make it right."

Jenna huffed out a humorless laugh. "It's not that simple."

Mrs. Collins clucked her tongue. "You young people are always complicating everything. You want this man back in your life, tell him that. If you messed things up, apologize and see if you can move on. At least then you'll know where things stand."

Grabbing a pair of jeans from the donations, Jenna weighed Mrs. Collins' suggestion. Could it really be that easy? Could Calvin be experiencing the same conflicting emotions, same regret over the turn their relationship had taken?

"Maybe you're right, but that's a problem for another day. Now, I need to focus on Stella and Oliver. I don't have room for anything else in my life."

Her phone vibrated against her glute, and she plucked her device from the back pocket of her jeans to find a text from Calvin.

Stella's house was broken into. Heading there now. Can we speak soon?

Panic swelled in her chest, stealing her breath. A break in at her sister's house couldn't be a coincidence, and she needed to make sure the police knew she'd been nowhere near Stella's house after her interview with Officer Sawyer. Decision made, she jumped to her feet and typed her response before saying goodbye and running for the door.

I'll meet you there.