Hidden Shadows (The Shadow Series Book 1) (20 page)

Jenna began to shiver and felt the blood drain from her face.

Struggling for air, she spoke in a pinched voice. “Who? Who picked her up, Emily?”

Emily began to understand everything was not, in fact, okay. Her bronze face lost some of its color as she stammered, “I’m—I'm not sure, Jenna.”

Unable to feel, to breathe, to think, Jenna squeezed her eyes shut, let out a small moan.

“Listen,” Emily gripped Jenna’s shoulder’s now, shook lightly, “you know if anyone besides a parent comes, that person
must
sign the child out from a pre-approved list. I am sure this is a mistake, a mix-up. What about Jacy’s father? Is it his time to come and get her?”

Jenna shook her head fiercely. She felt bile rising in her throat and pressed a hand to her mouth lest any escape.

“Celeste,” Emily called to a short brunette, “watch my class while I assist Ms. Gregor for a minute, please."

As the aide moved forward, Emily came beside Jenna, wrapped an around her waist and began walking to the school’s wide double doors. “Hang with me, Jenna. I’m certain the office would not have let Jacy leave with anyone who wasn’t on the list. We’ll figure this out. Just one minute.”

Trying to focus on anything other than panic, Jenna dimly recalled the list. Did she sign a form, make a list of people besides a parent who had permission to get her kids from school?

She tried to think, to sift through the fog, to remember the list, but her mind kept glossing over with images of Jacy, helpless, hurt, needing her mother.

“Do you remember seeing anyone?” Jenna asked hollowly. “Anyone you’d seen before?”

“No, I’m sorry. My aide, Amanda, assisted for the first ten minutes. Jacy ran up to tell me goodbye, and when I didn’t see you or her father and questioned her, she told me your friend was getting her.” Emily paused, sucked in a shaky breath as if just realizing the gravity of the situation. “I sent her straight to Amanda for a sign-out sheet and office visit. I specifically watched her walk into the building with Amanda and another woman.”

Another woman. Not her mother.

Jenna’s legs weighed as much as an elephant, and she struggled to keep up with Emily’s brisk pace. Her feet drug and she staggered awkwardly as Emily swung open the heavy doors, helped lead Jenna through.

“We need to call someone . . . the police.” Jenna stopped, fumbled through her purse. Where was her phone?

“Jenna,” Emily prompted, prodding her back lightly, “let’s get to the office first, hear what they have to say.”

Jenna moved forward, felt as though they’d been walking for hours.

As they entered the office, Emily spoke quickly. “Mrs. Oliver, this is Ms. Gregor. She’s here to pick up her daughter, but Jacy left some time ago with another adult. I sent Jacy in here with Ms. Amanda earlier and she waved the sign-out form at me as she said goodbye on her way out. So I know you saw her, approved the pick-up. We just need to see the checkout list for today, please, and figure out where the mix-up happened.”

The chubby secretary smiled, pushed herself hastily up from behind her desk. “Of course, of course.”

She shuffled to a wooden shelf, grabbed a clipboard that was balanced on a thick stack of papers. “Here we go.” She licked her forefinger, flipped through pages with efficiency. “Jacy Gregor. Checked out at 3:16.”

She narrowed her eyes, studied the sheet.

Jenna waited, one second, two seconds. How could this take so long? She should be out looking for her baby!

“Who checked her out?” Jenna blurted, impatience and anxiety trumping courtesy.

“That’s what I’m looking at, dear.” Ms. Oliver pursed her plump mauve lips. “The signature is hard to decipher.” She set the board down, walked to a filing cabinet. “Normally, I can remember someone’s name as I verify the approval form, but it’s Friday—lots of non-parent check-outs and early releases."

“We understand.” Emily smiled, set both hands on the counter and leaned forward. “Could you let Ms. Gregor see the sign-out sheet? I'm sure she’ll recognize the signature.”

Ms. Oliver stopped shuffling through folders in the drawer, looked at Emily over the rim of reading glasses that rode low on her nose.

“Yes, oh yes. Here you go.” Ms. Oliver’s skirt rustled as she bustled over, handed the clipboard to Jenna.

Jenna took it swiftly, honed in on Jacy’s name.

She knew that signature. Had seen it a hundred times. Molly Henderson.

Releasing the breath she felt like she’d been holding an eternity, her head almost went light with the relief.

She mustered a weak smile. “I know who it is. Molly. She’s my assistant at work.”

Clearly relived, Emily expelled a breath too. “Well, that’s wonderful. I knew everything went according to protocol. We wouldn’t let your girl go without that, Jenna.” Emily beamed her usual cheer now, patted Jenna’s shoulder. “Now you just have to talk with Molly and find out how this mix-up happened."

Oh yes, yes she did.

Jenna made a sound of agreement, nodded while her pumping adrenaline began to wane. “I’m sorry to have worried you, Emily, Mrs. Oliver. We’ve have some incidents lately, a vandalism at my home, some other circumstances that have me jumpy. Overreacting, I guess.”

“Nonsense,” Mrs. Oliver’s round cheeks bunched as she smiled warmly. “She’s your baby and when you don’t know where they are, things can get frightful in a hurry. I’m sorry I wasn't more help. My memory’s not what it used to be.” She laughed.

Jenna managed to grin a fraction, but couldn’t find a reason to laugh just yet.

She needed to see Jacy first. Hug her until, well . . . until Jenna felt normal again.

“Thank you both for your help,” Jenna nodded at Mrs. Oliver, looked gratefully to Emily. “I believe I'll go get my baby now.”

Emily chirped a little laugh. “A wonderful idea. Have a nice weekend,” she called, as Jenna walked out the door, already tugging her phone from its pocket in her purse.

****

She waited until she’d reached her car, shut the door before punching
Call
.

The soft, familiar voice answered on the second ring.

“Molly, where are you?”

“Hey, Jen. I’m across the street. Jacy and Dawson just finished ice cream. I know it’s late for a snack, a sugary one at that, but they forced me."

She had Dawson too? Oh how grateful Jenna was she hadn’t tried to get him as well. She truly might’ve died of fright had she thought they were both gone.

Now that panic had subsided, the flood of adrenaline ebbed, she had room for frustration, for anger; she spoke pointedly, sternly. “Molly, what are you doing?”

“Are you that mad about the cones?” Molly laughed. “They’re kid’s size, Jen. It won’t hurt them, just this once.”

“Why do you have them? Why did you get them? I’m at school to pick up Jace. She wasn’t here. I was scared to death."

“What? But your note. Did you leave another? Did I miss something?”

“What note?”

“The one you left on the paperwork you dropped by at lunch. You asked me to get the kids.”

“No, I didn’t.”

Except for the background noise of the restaurant, of kids running and playing, yelling, there was silence. “I don’t understand,” Molly finally said simply.

“
I
don’t understand.”

“There were two post-its on the paperwork you left me to go through. One was instructions for filing, the other said ‘Please get the kids from school at 3:15.’ Ben called while you were meeting with the Youngs, wondered if you’d left yet since he couldn’t reach you on your cell. When I told him you were still with patients, he said you guys had dinner planned tonight, and asked if you'd mentioned whether you were still coming or would be late. It made sense to me that you’d need me. So I headed out about ten to three, got Jacy, then Dawson.”

While Jenna absorbed this, Molly paused, sucked in a breath.

“Oh my gosh, you didn’t write the note.”

“I didn’t write the note.”

Molly’s voice hitched, “Jenna, I’m so sorry! I bet you were terrified. You didn’t know? You thought someone had her? Oh my gosh. Who did this? Is it the same person who messed up your house, left you that awful picture? I don’t understand. I don’t get it. How did they . . . Jenna, are you there?"

Jenna sighed, fought with the energy that was now non-existent. The earlier rush had left her drained, logic and reaction slinking by at a slug’s pace now. She could hardly keep up with Molly’s distressed tumble of words much less her own thoughts and rising despair.

“I’m here. And yes, I was terrified. Exhausted now, relieved you have them, but frightened. And more scared still by what you just told me. I did not write a note, to you, or anyone, about picking up the kids. I cannot imagine who or what or why someone would write that, do that, but like you, I suspect it was the same person who’s been harassing me. And we can mark this down as one more incident to report.” She closed her eyes, rubbed at her temples.

“This is all so crazy. And we’ll need to talk more about when you actually noticed the note, how closely did it resemble my writing, things like that. But right now, I really just want to see my kids.” She let out a weak laugh.

“Of course. Absolutely. Want me to drive them over?”

“No, no,” Jenna said, shifted of her parking spot now. “I’ll come to you. I kind of want to get away from here—too much action for one day.”

Molly sighed wearily. “I’m so sorry, Jenna. Truly. Really.”

“I know. You only did what you thought right. I’m just glad they’re with you and not where my imagination was leading me." Jenna heard Jacy laughing through the phone and her heart leapt. “I see you in a sec.”

“We’ll be outside waiting.”

****

“You almost killed me, Mom.” Jacy giggled. “You squeezed me sooo tight.”

Jenna laughed and stole her hundredth glance at her daughter’s beautiful face as she pulled out of the fast food parking lot and headed home. “I was happy to see you.”

“Way happy,” Jacy laughed again.

Never wanting to be left out, Dawson cackled. “Mama, you were actin’ goofy.” He mimicked Jenna's exaggerated smile and aggressive hug, made a squealing sound that had both kids snorting and Jenna rolling her eyes playfully.

“You two will just have to get used to it. Your mama will always love you and be happy to see you, no matter how old you are.”

Dawson’s foot thudded against the back of her seat again and again. She usually told him to stop; right now, she’d never been happier to feel the constant bump in her spine. “When we’re old, old. Like thirty?”

“Like thirty.”

Jenna reached back and shook his dangling foot, eliciting another hoot of laughter.

It was hard to realize how much you loved the small things, the mundane and normal things. until there was a possibility they wouldn’t be there to enjoy.

Maybe that hadn’t been an actual possibility today, that her children could’ve been harmed, but it didn’t keep her from experiencing those feelings, fearing the worst.

And though she wanted to just enjoy them, revel in their presence and the wonderful routine of this moment, she couldn’t help but let her mind wander, race with the what if’s, the why’s.

Why hadn’t Molly mentioned her plans to Jenna
before
the appointment with the Youngs began? Why hadn’t she text, left a note, a message, anything for Jenna to know that she had received the supposed request to get the kids?

And why had Ben called to make this evening sound so urgent? He’d been looking forward to Jenna meeting his parents, but did he have to call her staff and make an issue of her timeliness? Was it right or appropriate for him to be asking questions of her assistant, probe into what she was doing at work?

Aside from the obvious, something just didn’t feel right in Jenna’s gut. She couldn’t necessarily put a finger on what it was, but it was there, hovering above her head like a giant boulder, threatening to tumble down and crush her.

But technically, everything was okay, right? Nothing had actually happened.

Nothing except the fact that her stalker—and that’s what this person was doing, stalking, preying on Jenna, intimidating her at home and work—was able to come into her work, forge her handwriting and send her own staff out on an errand to terrorize Jenna.

But what could she do about it tonight? She’d managed to reach Cooley’s voicemail in the brief moments before she got to Molly and the kids, but she wasn’t sure he’d get back to her before tomorrow. Would he even consider this urgent, criminal? And what would the police be able to do anyway? If this person was smart enough to use a payphone where prints couldn’t be pulled, locate and avoid cameras, why would they leave any evidence on a post-it?

“We’re home, we’re home!” Jacy sang a little ditty as she unbuckled her seatbelt, jumped out.

“We’re going to Mr. Ben’s tonight, remember? We need to head out soon.” Truth was, Jenna thought, moving to help Dawson twist his way out of the booster seat, after today’s scare she really didn’t feel like going anywhere.