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Kay took the phone from Mackenzie’s trembling hand and stared at the screen in disbelief. The website was dubbed Jenna Puts Out.Jenna’s face, smiling innocently, reminded Kay of the photo Mrs. Jerrell had showed them, from before April, the one she used for Jenna’s college applications. It could’ve been the same photo, slightly tilted and cropped. A few well-chosen words were next, in a brief paragraph highlighting the girl’s willingness to meet up and have sex “with one or more partners in an exploration of everything teen sexuality had to offer.” Then a series of photos followed, artistic closeups and various angles of naked breasts, waxed pubic area, and lower back with gluteal cleft.
Speechless, she handed the phone to Elliot. The same consternation landed on his features, accompanying a deep frown that marred his brow under the brim of his hat.
“This was Jenna’s site?” Kay asked.
Mackenzie shrugged. “She didn’t say anything about it for a while. Then, in July sometime, after she’d cut her hair shorter, she told me it wasn’t her in those, um, body photos, and she didn’t know who made the site and why. She was heartbroken we all believed it was hers.” Mackenzie was still flushed, avoiding Kay’s gaze, probably from embarrassment. “By fourth of July, everyone had seen it and was making her life hell. But I guess some kids had known about it for months… that would explain why they kept calling her those awful names.”
“What names?” Elliot asked.
“You know,” Mackenzie said, wringing her hands together. “Like whore and slut. Stuff like that. I didn’t know at first. They were hiding from Alana and me, knowing we were her friends.”
Kay stared at Mackenzie, thinking. It seemed Jenna had been the victim of a smear campaign worthy of a presidential candidate, not some high school kid from Small Town, California. Who would have the knowledge and malice to do that, and why?
Facing such adversity at her young age would explain Jenna’s depression, her visible change from a self-confident and happy teenager to someone who looked as despondent as she did in her most recent photos. Her falling in love with Gavin Sharp, a father figure, a man who probably knew nothing of that dreadful website.
But how did any of this smearing and cyberbullying connect with Kendra?
“Tell me about Kendra Flannagan,” Kay asked, handing Mackenzie back her phone.
A quick, fleeting frown clouded the girl’s relieved gaze. “Kendra? She’s a junior. I don’t know that much about her. She started hanging out with Alana and me last month or so, after Jenna stopped.”
“Is Kendra being cyberbullied too?” Elliot asked.
“What?” Mackenzie reacted. “I never thought of it that way, but yeah, I guess it’s cyberbullying.” She thought for a minute, biting her lip. “No, I haven’t heard a peep about Kendra.”
“Did Kendra know Jenna?” Kay asked, throwing a shot in the dark.
A shrug. “I don’t know… maybe. It’s not such a big school, you know. Everyone knows everyone.”
“When’s the last time you saw her?”
“Kendra? Yesterday, she was at school. Afterward, I don’t remember. We went out, a larger group, and hung out at the mall. But I don’t remember if she was there… she could’ve been. Alana and I were raising money for Jenna’s memorial fund.”
“Does she have a boyfriend? Who does she go out with?” Kay asked.
Mackenzie’s lips pressed together in a line. “I don’t know. Honest.” She held her arms out in an apologetic gesture. “My parents won’t let me hang out at her place because of the wine and the drunks.” She laughed. “As if we’d go there to drink wine.”
Kay looked at Elliot briefly, then thanked Mackenzie for her help. The girl led them out, visibly relieved the interview was over.
“One more thing,” Kay said, from the doorstep. “What we talked about is strictly confidential. You can’t tell anyone or text anyone about it. It’s against the law.”
Suddenly pale, Mackenzie nodded. “I got it. I watch a lot of TV. I know how this works.”
Kay repressed a sigh. Everyone did.
THIRTY
CABIN
The cabin had been deserted a long time.
It was a single room, built out of stacked logs, blackened by smoke and dirt. The gaps between the logs had been sealed with chinking at some point in the cabin’s history, but in places, that chinking was long gone, and the wind whistled through the narrow spaces, bringing the evening chill inside.
Thick dust covered the sparse wooden furniture. A small table and two small chairs, nothing but slices of tree logs with four legs screwed under them. In a corner, a stove with a fallen-apart chimney was good for nothing but providing another hole through which the wind could blow leaves and dust inside. On the wall next to the stove was the door, rattling with every strong wind gust but remaining closed. Kendra could see the fading daylight through the gap underneath it.
On the opposite wall, several pieces of chain with hooks had been nailed to the logs, probably used in the past to hang game for skinning or gutting. Kendra’s hands were bound together tightly with a rope that had been hung from one of those hooks. It was high enough to not let her sit down on the dirt-covered floor, and her entire body ached, screaming for some warmth and rest.
She didn’t remember much or how she got there. She’d awakened to find herself like that a few hours ago, feeling nauseated and dizzy, thirsty, and weak, frightened out of her mind. But at least she’d been warm for a while, for as long as the sun had been shining. With the vanishing remnants of the day came the night chill, cutting into her flesh with every wind gust that made it through the cracks in the walls. Terrified, she’d watched the shadows grow longer and the insidious, horrifying darkness creep in, engulfing her until she couldn’t see anything.
