AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Did you ask her what was going on?”
She pressed her lips together and gave Kay a grim look. “She wouldn’t say, no matter how hard we pressed, her father and me. But I’ll show you.” She grabbed her purse from the back of the chair then extracted a zippered wallet. She opened it and laid it flat on the table, turning it around so that Kay could see the two photos slid under the transparent plastic side.
One showed a beautiful, smiling girl with long brown hair and confident brown eyes, dressed in a buttoned blue shirt and wearing a thin gold necklace. She exuded happiness and poise, the kind that foretells when someone’s future is about to blossom.
The second image told a different story. The girl’s eyes were haunted, the expression one of intense despair, of despondence. Her face was drawn and pale. All the earlier self-confidence was gone without a trace. Her hair was now shorter and unkempt, her blouse black and wrinkled.
Kay looked at Mrs. Jerrell inquisitively.
“This photo was taken last March for her college application. She’s going to Cal State, you know,” she added, a tinge of maternal pride coloring her voice. “This one was taken in June, on her birthday, only three months ago. We had to drag her out of her bedroom for cake.”
Kay studied the two photos in silence for a moment. The change was consistent with someone going through intense hardship. And still, she hadn’t said a word to her parents. It couldn’t’ve been a medical problem; her mother was a nurse. She would’ve seen symptoms, would’ve recognized a disease. Couldn’t’ve been a pregnancy; it would’ve started to show. Or maybe she’d miscarried without her mother learning about it.
Elliot reached for the wallet. “May I?” Mrs. Jerrell nodded. “We’ll need copies of these photos.” He took the pictures and stepped outside.
“Walk me through what happened with Jenna since last March. Anything worth mentioning might give us a clue where to find her.”
Mrs. Jerrell nodded without taking her eyes off Kay. “It happened gradually, and I don’t think I noticed anything until the end of April. She stopped hanging out with friends that much, but slowly. Then she and her boyfriend broke up, and for a while, I thought that’s why she was crying all the time. Then, one night after a day shift, I found her asleep with lipstick on her face, smeared on purpose as if she’d put it on and immediately ran her hand over her mouth, smudging it all over. When I woke her up, she didn’t explain; she just sat on the side of her bed, staring into nothing.” The woman’s gaze darted toward the floor, then landed on her clasped hands. “I noticed she’d cut her hair that night and did a botched job of it, on purpose I believe. I—I tested her urine for drugs that night. It was clean.” A long, pained breath left her lungs. “I was so relieved it wasn’t drugs; I wrote it off as teenage hormones and boyfriend trouble. It wasn’t. Jenna was loathing herself, and I missed it.”
Silence filled the room when Mrs. Jerrell stopped talking. In the distance, two deputies were arguing over a baseball game, their voices climbing, laughter mixed with expletives and name-calling. Then the chatter died abruptly. A moment later, Elliot returned with Jenna’s photos.
“Thank you,” he said, placing them gently on the table.
Mrs. Jerrell nodded. A fresh tear stained her scrub top. Sniffling, she patted her eyes dry with a Kleenex. “That’s what happened, and we—we didn’t know how to address it.”
“Did you speak with anyone at the school about it?” Kay asked.
“Yes, we did, more than once. I was suspicious of them for a while. No one knew anything or admitted to anything. Her grades had slumped somewhat, but—”
“Tell me about the past twenty-four hours before she disappeared.” Kay spoke softly, patiently, although she wanted the interview to be over as quickly as possible. Every minute was critical. “Did you or your husband argue with her? Was she more upset yesterday than she’d been in the recent past?”
A spark of panic lit up Mrs. Jerrell’s eyes. “Are you saying she left? She ran away?” High-pitched panic tinged her voice.
“It’s a possibility we have to consider. Last year, more than ninety percent of all missing teenagers were, in fact, runaways.”
Tears streamed down Mrs. Jerrell’s face. She stood up and walked around the table. Kay stood, too; she was painfully aware Mrs. Jerrell couldn’t handle any more questions.
Her chest heaving, the mother clasped Kay’s hands. “Please, please don’t give up on her. She would’ve never left us. I know this in my heart. I do, I swear.” She broke down in uncontrollable wails. “Please, find my baby.”
Kay helped her to the chair and crouched in front of her, still holding her hand. “We’ll do everything we can to find Jenna. I promise you that.” She sought the woman’s gaze and repeated her commitment, looking her in the eye. “I promise you we won’t give up until we have answers.”
Elliot disappeared and returned promptly with a water bottle and a plastic cup. He unscrewed the cap and filled the cup for her. Mrs. Jerrell took a sip, her eyes squeezed shut, brimming with tears. Then she set the cup on the table and said, “Tell me what to do.”
“Breathe,” Kay replied gently. “First of all, breathe. You know the drill. You have to take care of yourself first, to be strong for your daughter.” The woman nodded. “Before we get started, one more question, if I may. I’m not exactly clear on how you didn’t know Jenna was gone the entire night.”
Her lower lip quivered for a moment. “I work double shifts these days. There’s never enough money, and Jenna’s going to college next year. I worked the afternoon and night shifts yesterday and got home at about seven this morning. Her bed was made, and she never does it herself; I make it for her.”
“How about your husband? Wasn’t he at home?”
A sad smile flickered on the corner of her lip. “Bill is always home. He’s a Marine veteran, a wheelchair user since Afghanistan. He’s in severe pain and takes medication. By seven in the evening, he’s out like a light.”
“Do you think Jenna could’ve returned last night without Mr. Jerrell knowing about it?”
Mrs. Jerrell took a moment to consider the idea but then shook her head. “There was no trace of her being in the house after she left yesterday afternoon. She didn’t sit on the bed or eat or do anything that I would notice.”
Kay looked over her shoulder at the clock on the wall. Jenna had been missing sixteen hours already. And if Kay had to venture a guess, her disappearance was in some manner tied to what had been happening to her since spring.
Mrs. Jerrell followed her glance and clasped her hands together, wringing them nervously. “I watch TV on my breaks, and I read when night shifts are lighter. The first twenty-four hours are… I mean, my baby’s still alive, right?”
