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For an instant, she recoiled as her heart raced and her chest tightened. She inhaled deeply and steeled herself. She peered in the bag. It was a doll’s head and scrawled across the forehead was the word BITCH.
The eyes staring up at her were blue, bright, and lifeless. White hair stood straight up, spiking as if the electricity had raced through the doll, or what remained of her.
In a snap, her brain shifted to cop mode. Who had sent her this? Her work with the Nashville Police Department came to mind. She’d created the sketch of a child’s face. Instead of being afraid as she was of Shadow Eyes, she knew this doll’s head was tangible and she understood tangible. “I’ve struck a nerve.”
Mindful not to touch the doll, she retrieved her phone from the house, took pictures of the doll’s head, and then called Rick Morgan.
He answered on the third ring and his voice was gruff and deep. A dog barked in the background. “Jenna.”
“I’m texting you a picture. It’s of a doll’s head left on my back patio.”
“A what?”
“A doll’s head. I think my drawing has gotten someone’s attention.”
Silence crackled on the line. “The child’s grandmother saw the picture you drew on television last night and called us. We questioned a woman last night who we believe might be the child’s mother. We’re running a DNA sample of the mother and the child. We also arrested a man who we believe was the child’s father.”
“You arrested him?”
“He drew on us.”
The understated words hinted at what must have been a heart-stopping scene. She’d had a gun drawn on her once, when she’d patrolled in Baltimore. She remembered holding her gun steady and shouting for the man to put his gun down. She’d been lucky. He’d listened and laid his gun down before kneeling with his hands behind his head. She’d shaken for two days after. “So you have them both in custody?”
“We had to release Loyola Briggs, the alleged mother, early this morning. We can’t charge her until we prove the child is hers. Danny Briggs, the father, was just arrested and won’t be getting out anytime soon.”
The thrill of success hummed in her body. Another sketch. Another arrest. “You think they’re the parents?”
“Your picture looked exactly like photos the grandmother had in a scrapbook. And Danny Briggs had scratches on the side of his car. Looked like he might have sideswiped someone.”
“He ran me off the road?”
“Looks like it.”
She ran her fingers through her hair, grim satisfaction giving her little pleasure. “Good. You have a lead.”
“It’s a hell of a lead. How long do you think the doll’s head has been on your porch?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t out on the porch yesterday.”
“Danny Briggs wasn’t arrested until a couple of hours ago. He could have left it.”
She turned from the bag and the doll’s head. Moments like this made being a cop so satisfying. “You’ll tell me what the DNA reveals?”
“Of course. Without you, we wouldn’t be here now.”
“Want me to bag the doll’s head?” she teased.
“No.” His voice radiated with force. “I’ll send an officer.”
Disappointment snapped. “I can do it.”
“I’ve no doubt, but we don’t want any defense attorney saying you tampered with the evidence.”
He’d all but called her an outsider. “Okay. But I’m watching when they do their thing.”
He chuckled. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
She laughed.
“Jenna, be careful.”
“Always.”
Seconds after she ended the call, her phone rang. She glanced at the display on her phone and saw the Baltimore area code. Mike. Straightening, she considered ignoring him but at the last, hit ACCEPT. “This is Jenna.”
“You’re sounding fairly formal.” His deep voice rumbled with fatigue.
Two weeks ago she’d have been glad to hear Mike’s familiar voice. Now, well, his calls triggered a jolt of tension. “I wasn’t sure who it was.”
Her lie didn’t exactly ring true but he didn’t bite. “Wouldn’t want you talking dirty to the wrong guy.”
Mike could always break the ice even if it were thick, but not today. “No. That would not go over well.”
Mike cleared his throat. “Remember the kid you found in that closet?”
She stilled. “Yes.”
“I checked in on her. She’s in a good foster home and she’s doing well.”
Well. Jenna couldn’t remember what it had been like after her rescue. But her aunt had said she’d been quiet and withdrawn for months. “How is she physically?”
“Malnourished. But the docs and the foster parents are working on that.”
All her good humor trickled away. “Do they know how long she was in the closet?”
“Months at least.”
Months. Tear welled in her eyes. One tear escaped. She swiped it away.
“Jenna?”
“I was just processing.”
“You can see her if you want.”
Her heart clenched. “Why would I want to see her?”
“I saw the Nashville news report. You understand where she is mentally.”
She pressed her fingertips to her forehead. “Who else in Baltimore knows?”
“Not too many.”
“Translation: everyone.”
He dropped his voice a notch. “It’ll be fine. We all understand it happened a long time ago. It’s a part of you and you’re a good cop.”
“Maybe.”
“We miss you, Jenna. You’re a hell of an asset. When are you going to get tired of country music and come back to the real world?”
A tentative laugh stuttered across her lips. “Nashville isn’t real?”
“Nope. It’s all about Baltimore as far as I’m concerned.” He sighed into the phone as if hurt. “Come back to Baltimore, Jenna. Your old job is yours for the taking.”
She cradled the phone close to her ear. He was again coaxing her back into the group on the other side of the blue line. And right now, she wanted back in; she wanted to take down lowlifes that killed children and raped women. But did she want Baltimore? “I don’t know, Mike.”
A breath seeped free. “Not knowing is better than a flat-out no.”
“I do miss the work. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t.”
“Damn straight you miss it. You miss us. You miss me.”
She frowned. “Don’t get carried away.”
“You do. You miss me, Jenna. I sure as hell miss you.”
She moistened her lips and rotated her head from side to side. “Mike, we’re not talking about us. We were never an us.”
“Not in my mind. Leaving was your idea, not mine. I thought we were finally headed in the right direction.”
“I told you the sex didn’t change anything.” It never changed anything.
“Your body sure responded to me.”
She closed her eyes, not sure what to say to that. She cared deeply for him, always would, but she’d never sleep with him again. Whatever they had, wasn’t enough. She’d never been able to tell him about the loss of her family. She’d been more candid with Rick Morgan over one meal than she’d been with Mike all the years they’d worked together. That wasn’t Mike’s fault. So many times he wanted her to open up to him.
He cleared his throat to break the silence. “Look, I don’t want to throw us into the mix. That wasn’t why I called. I just wanted to pat you on the back and tell you the kid is doing well.”
She didn’t quite believe him but she was willing to pretend. “What’s her name? The little girl, what’s her name?”
“Sarah.”
Sarah? She dragged a ragged hand through her hair. Shit.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” She straightened. “Thanks, Mike.”
“Does that mean you’ll think about returning? Your lea
ve is almost up.”
The clock ticked. Soon, she’d have to make some decision. She couldn’t afford the two apartments and she owed it to her friends back home and the Baltimore Police Department to make a decision. “Yeah, I’ll think about it.”
