Hidden Shadows (The Shadow Series Book 1) (28 page)

She sucked in a breath, let it fill her lungs, clear her mind. She wanted to remember this moment forever, savor this feeling of real enchantment. It was exhilarating. More than she could’ve ever hoped or dreamed. For herself and her children.

Not just a man, but a devoted, loyal, hard-working, honest man loved her. And she loved him.

She grasped Ben’s wrist, pulled him to stand and meet her face-to-face. Putting both her hands to his cheeks, she smiled. “Of course I will marry you, Ben. Nothing would make me happier. I love you. So very much."

He dropped his head to hers, closed his eyes and sighed heavily. “You scared me for a minute there.”

“Sorry. I’m overwhelmed. In a wonderful way. No doubts, no hesitation, no more scares. Promise.”

She leaned back, took in the dark hair, sculpted face, looked into the green she loved, that she assumed would also always make her belly wiggle around, and let the tears fall.

It was cliché, but in this moment, she wanted cliché, she adored cliché. And she was so thrilled it was happening to her.

“Did you say yes?” Dawson asked impatiently, reclining against Ben’s leg.

“I said yes,” Jenna laughed happily, ruffling his sunny hair.

“Okay, now the pretty jewelry.” Jacy nudged Ben’s elbow, eagle-eyed the ring.

“Oh,” he said adorably clumsy, “of course,” and slipped the symbol on her finger that promised hope and happiness.

A promise that, for Jenna, had already begun its fulfillment.

****

After making the necessary jubilant phone calls to friends and family, Jenna, Ben, and the kids opted for a celebratory night in as the dark clouds Jenna had spotted earlier now stained the sky in giant gray and black masses. It looked like a storm would be coming through after all.

Candy Land had made its way to the table by surprisingly unanimous request, though Ben obviously wished now he had contested. Currently stuck on one of Lord Licorice’s trap spaces, this was his third lost turn, and he wasn’t happy about it. "I wish Mom and Dad hadn’t allowed y’all to bring this game back,” he grumbled.

Dawson laughed, obviously delighted his own fortune fared better; he’d been able to take the Gumdrop Pass and was almost to the Candy Castle for the win.

“Don’t worry, Ben, you’ll draw better cards next time,” Jacy assured.

Texting Robin a few endearing details she’d forget to mention in their hurried call, Jenna set the phone down, smiled at her brood. “While you guys finish up, I’m going to start dinner, okay?”

They all nodded absently.

She made her way to the fridge, ticking off in her mind what she could throw together to serve six. Robin and Erik were coming too, and she couldn’t wait to hear Robin’s big news. Ecstatic, of course, at Jenna's engagement, she’d hinted she had her own news to share. Jenna all but burst “You’re pregnant!" but knew Robin would want to announce it in person. It was a long, hard time coming after all, and Jenna could not be more thrilled for her.

What a wonderful, magical day.

And that little tug inside, that unsettling feeling that lingered because an attempted murderer was still out there, in all likelihood waiting for Jenna? She’d just have to put that aside. Have to trust in the police, in Ben.

In herself.

She’d finally begun that journal, had written down every detail, no matter how minute, that she could think of. She intended to run in by Ben, show it to Cooley, see if they had any additional thoughts or ideas. Maybe they’d see something she had missed.

Cooley had an officer scheduled to arrive at nine tonight. Until then, Ben was here. With his own weapon that he assured her, he knew how to use.

But maybe she was getting carried away? Maybe there was no connection at all between Leigh’s random attack and the scary incidents to which Jenna had been subjected? It had been quiet for over fourteen days. Maybe the person got tired, moved on, the obsession or anger or whatever they had against Jenna forgotten, dropped?

Yeah, and maybe pigs could fly.

As Dawson finally took his sister and Ben for the win, the trio shuffled up from the table as Jenna pulled down the pasta from the pantry—it always went a long way in feeding a crowd—gathered almonds and dried cranberries for salad toppings.

“I’m takin’ the kids to Katelyn’s before supper,” Ben said, coming behind her and planting a kiss to the top of her head. “That okay with you?”

“Sure. As long as you’re back in time for dinner.”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

“We’re going to walk before the storm comes, ‘kay Momma?” Jacy informed, twirling through the kitchen.

“And we tell her you and Ben are getting married!” Dawson jumped up and down.

“She’ll be excited, too,” Jenna smiled, pawing through the cabinet for her large, 12-quart pot. "Be careful.”

“We will. Bye, Mom!” Jacy chimed, skipping to the front door with Dawson scampering behind.

“Bye, love.” Ben swung her around, wrapped her in a hug, nuzzled his lips on her neck.

Laughing with pleasure, she waved as they filed out the door.

Amazed she was a fiancé, a fiancé in love with a man who loved her, she bounced a bit on her toes as she carted the pot to the sink, filled it with water, pulled it to the stove, and turned the eye on
High
.

When the doorbell rang, she tossed the loaf of bread she’d been buttering on the counter, made her way to the front door. Either Ben forgot something—a kiss maybe?—or Robin and Erik were here.

She threw open the door in welcome, a chuckle bubbling up from her overly happy heart.

But Robin’s smiling face did not greet her. Nor did Ben’s handsome grin.

Standing just off the porch in the pouring rain—when had it begun?—soaked to the bone, was Taryn Tate.

As thunder boomed, Taryn flinched, and Jenna thought she glimpsed movement behind Taryn, someone else perhaps? She leaned, strained her eyes to test her theory, and saw she was right.

A second figure was there, standing directly behind the dripping Taryn.

They leaned around meekly.

Molly.

TWENTY-FOUR

Molly tilted her head, shuffled closer beside Taryn. “Hey, Jenna. Bad night, huh?”

Jenna nodded slowly, felt words she hadn’t consciously thought of come from her mouth. “Yeah. Looks like a big storm’s coming . . . or is already here."

She tried to smile, but it wouldn’t come, didn’t feel natural. “Why are you standing in the rain?"

Molly laughed softly, encouraged Taryn onto the porch. As they edged closer, crowded under the cover, Jenna found herself stepping back. “Sorry about that,” Molly said, pushing her drenched hair away from her face, "but I didn’t want to scare you. We are coming unannounced.”

“You are,” Jenna agreed.

Molly scrunched her face up guiltily. “Sorry about that, too. But I, we . . . she,” Molly inclined her head to Taryn who still hadn’t moved a muscle, "wanted to talk to you.”

“I’m all for talking, Molly. You know that.” Jenna hesitated, looked right into Taryn’s eyes, though it didn’t seem like anyone was home behind that deep, dark brown. “I am willing to talk, Taryn. You just need to call, come to the office.” Jenna turned back to Molly, tried to convey the uncomfortableness and inappropriateness she felt with a look. “This is quite unorthodox. . . .”

“I know. I know that, of course. And I really do apologize, Jen, but you also know how I feel about Taryn.” Molly edged closer now so her shoulder touched Taryn’s, and she turned her face, smiled sadly at the unresponsive woman. “I feel for, hurt for her. She’s tried calling the office, tried coming by, but you haven’t been there. She’s suicidal, Jenna. Threatened to do it today. I just couldn’t leave her hanging there anymore. It’s wrong."

Molly hung her head now, kicked at Jenna’s navy Welcome mat. “It is unorthodox. But it’s also what we signed up for——helping people, being there in their time of need. She needs us.”

Taryn startled as a branch snapped, sailed across the yard. Molly reached, patted her shoulder, then looked up, out at the sky with narrowed eyes. “Mind if we come in, get out of this mess?”

Jenna’s heart could’ve kept time with the pitter-patter of rain on her sidewalk. A warmth spread across her chest, up her neck. Why did she feel so shaky? This was Molly, her friend. Her co-worker. Her trusted assistant.

Something in her belly rolled, jumped, and she wished, very suddenly and fiercely that Ben were here. But what was she supposed to do? Leave her friend out in the raging storm? Bring her friend in and let a sick woman stay out there?

No, last time her anxiety and unwarranted fear of someone had led her to almost disastrous conclusions.

She had to reign in the nerves, stamp down the unease and realize that while the situation may not be ideal, it could be worked around. With Molly and Jenna there, Taryn wouldn’t try anything, would she?

And it was herself she wanted to hurt after all, not Jenna. Right?

“Jenna?” Molly said curiously.

“Oh, yes . . .” She fixed on a smile, opened the door wider, though again, she found herself stepping back, retreating further into the entryway as they came across the threshold.

She nabbed a blanket on a nearby bench, tossed it to Molly. “Why don’t you both dry off, get warm. I’ll contact Doctor Vick, see if we can get Taryn's new physician on the phone. Maybe she can help, recommend somewhere Taryn can go for care.”

She stole a glance at Taryn, who stood saddled up so close to Molly, and she had to admit, part of her heart did ache for the numbness and detachment she saw in the woman’s face.

Turning to the kitchen for her phone she’d left on the counter, Jenna jerked as a high-pitched scream echoed.

She pivoted swiftly, ready for action, fully expecting to see Molly in a vulnerable position.

She was wrong.

A thousand needles pierced her nerves, fixed her feet to the floor as she watched in disbelief, Molly, waving a bulky knife at Taryn’s exposed throat.

The sensitive flesh of Taryn’s neck was pulled taut as Molly stood behind her, holding fast to Taryn’s hair. She yanked, hard, and a cry escaped Taryn’s lips as the knife carved several nicks in the soft tissue.

Jenna’s world spun, her vision spotting as her breathing became so rapid it neared hyperventilation. She tried to speak, instead sputtered frantically, “Molly, what in God’s name are you doing? Put the knife down!”

Cool and calm, in total opposition to Jenna’s rising panic, Molly bit off her words. “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn't you? You always want things your way, want people to follow your instructions.” Anger laced with sarcasm spewed from her usually poised lips, and her eyes, the sweet, milky chocolate went dark, devilish. “Be honest, Jenna. For once in your pitiful life, be honest. You’re not planning to help poor, misguided Taryn, here. You’ll betray her. Just as you’ve already done. Refusing her service, sending her off as someone else’s problem. You don’t want to take responsibility for
your
patients. You do what's right for you, and to hell with everyone else, right?”

Though her legs still felt steeped in concrete, Jenna tried to clear her head, steady her voice, get a grip on the spiraling fear. “Molly, this is not you,” she pled. “What you are doing? What are you saying?”

“You don’t know me!” Molly shouted. “You only know you. You only know the lies you feed the people you’re supposed to help.”

Near tears, Jenna reached out, opened a hand toward her friend. “I’m not lying, Molly. I do want to help Taryn . . . but, sometimes, the answer . . . the help . . . it’s not me.”

“Stop with your psycho-babble bull!” Molly bellowed. “You know, I know, Taryn’s beyond help.” She tugged the hair again, and wide-eyed, Taryn whimpered. “You were using her to stamp a card, fill a slot, then when you couldn’t work your magic, you abandoned her. Now she’s worthless, can’t even help herself. And it’s
your
fault.”

Taryn began a quiet sob now, and Molly’s face softened, her grip relaxed. “Shhh, it’s okay," she cooed. “I can help you. I will help you. I’ll do what you aren’t strong enough to."

Abruptly, she swung her arm forward and swiped the knife back across Taryn’s throat in one strong slice.

Blood spewed, fountain style. Gurgling noises bubbled from Taryn as she brought her hands up to the gaping wound, tried futilely to stop the gushing blood.

Jenna instinctively circled her hands around her neck as if it were her own throat. The scream she’d buried burst up, howled out.

She rushed over, but Molly held fast to Taryn, one arm wrapped securely around her chest.

Molly jabbed the bloody tip of the knife in Jenna’s direction. “One more move and you’ll be gulping right beside her."

Jenna sucked in a breath, a sob, fought with nausea, with a spinning room. Of all the blood she’d seen in her career, this was different. Redder, meaner when it flowed from a victim. “Why? Why?” she managed.

“As an example, Doctor Gregor. An example of what I’m going to do. To you.” Molly dropped Taryn's hemorrhaging body to the floor with a thump, where the young woman thrashed like a fish out of water.