HAUNTED: A Jenny Watkins Mystery

by Becky Durfee

  She did in the beginning, though. When she was unhappily married to Greg, her private moments with Zack made her spirits soar, very similar to the way that Mick’s did to her now. Perhaps she was just attracted to things that were forbidden—people who represented an escape from a life she had grown to dislike. That thought frightened her—she had married Zack. Had he only been appealing because he was new and different? Because his attention had flattered her? Had she based a life-long commitment on a misconception?

  She repositioned the baby, although it did no good; his screams continued to poke holes in her sanity. She wished she had known about all of this before she chose the man who would be the father of her child. It seemed backwards to her; people got to test drive a car before they bought it, but they often walked down the aisle before they got to see what the life after vows would really look like. How was she to know that this was what her future would hold? If she’d already had a child, she would have known what to expect and would have chosen her husband based on different standards. For instance, at this point, she would have been willing to trade funny for helpful. But at the time, how was she to know that motherhood would be so hard? Or that she wouldn’t enjoy it as much as other people claimed to?

  As the baby let out an exceptionally loud wail, Jenny wondered how anybody could enjoy this.

  She reminded herself that she had caught a break earlier in the day, but that didn’t seem to matter too much at that moment. No amount of time away from the baby would change the fact that, eventually, Jenny would have to come back. Come back to the screaming. Come back to this life she’d created.

  For the next eighteen years, she’d need to always come back and be a mother. The thought was almost too overwhelming to bear.

  She envisioned the tiny apartment she’d rented when she had first divorced her ex-husband. It looked like paradise to her now…a place to live that was all her own. It was a manageable size; she could clean it from top to bottom in just a couple of hours. She was able to sleep when she wanted to, and eat, and shower. She had no one else to take care of, no one to pick up after. She had been happy there. For the first time in her life, she had been truly happy in that apartment.

  Sadness nearly choked her as she considered those months may have been the last time she’d be truly happy, too. She’d had it—contentment, right there in the palm of her hands—and she let it slip away. Now she was miserable again, and it almost seemed more unbearable, simply because she’d tasted what joy felt like. When she was married to Greg, she didn’t realize what she’d been missing. Now, unfortunately, she was painfully aware of exactly what she was living without.

  She was so desperate to go back and experience it one more time, she nearly felt like she was drowning.

  After what felt like an eternity, Jenny was finally able to put the baby down to sleep. Within minutes, she, too, was in bed, drifting off. She sighed as she closed her eyes, trying to set aside her despair long enough for her to get some decent rest. She was unsure how much time she had before the baby started screaming again.

  Just a few minutes later, Jenny lifted her head off the pillow. She looked around, placing her hand over her face as she figured out where she was. Feeling the comfort of her own bedroom surrounding her, she plopped her head back down on the pillow and whispered, “How many times am I going to go through this?”

  “She was older,” Jenny said to Kyle on the phone, referring to this latest victim that had surfaced the night before. “She looked sunken and gaunt, like she had been living a not-so-glamorous lifestyle. Her hair was messy, long and reddish-brown with streaks of gray, and I think she may have been missing some teeth. I’m going to draw her before I do any research on her. I don’t want any pictures of other women to cloud my image of what she looked like.”

  “How did this one die?” Kyle asked.

  “A beating, this time with fists, followed by a strangulation.” She shuddered as she recalled the attack.

  “Where did it happen?”

  “Outside, in the dark. I didn’t really get a good grasp on my surroundings. It could have been anywhere.”

  Kyle sounded as if he was jotting down notes. “I can poke around…see if any unsolved murders fit this description. I’m not sure how much luck I’ll have without the picture, though.”

  “Once I finish feeding the baby, I’ll start drawing. I’ll send it to you as soon as I’m done.”

  “Excellent. Just so I can narrow this down, do you know of anywhere else Aiden lived besides Wyoming and Tennessee? I can look that up myself, but if you already know the answer, that’d save me a little time.”

  “I don’t think there is anywhere else. As far as I know, he went straight from there to here. He may have lived in other places before Wyoming, but he wasn’t mentally ill then.”

  “Got it. I’ll give it a whirl and see what I can come up with.”

  Jenny thanked Kyle and hung up the phone, quickly looking around, feeling the need to do something productive with her time while she nursed the baby. She felt like she spent half her life nursing these days, and she hated the lack of activity.

  With the push of a couple of buttons on her phone, Jenny dialed John. “Hello,” he said upon answering; his voice sounded chipper.

  “Well, hello to you, too,” she replied. “You seem like you’re in a pleasant mood.”

  “I’m just feeling good these days. It helps to have something to keep me busy…it lets me take my mind of things.”

  “Well, I’m glad. Are you having any luck working on your project?”

  “A lot, actually. I think this thing is shaping up nicely. It helps that you gave me such a big budget to work with. It’s amazing what you can accomplish when you have the funding.”

  Jenny couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, money does make the world go around…sadly. But I’m so glad that you’re able to do this. With the baby, I don’t have time to work on it myself, even though it’s such a worthwhile thing to do. So, are we still a go for the day after tomorrow?”

  “I hope so. A lot of people are counting on that.”

  “Oh,” Jenny said, “that reminds me…I have another name for you.”

  “Can you text that to me?” John asked. “I’m at the store right now.”

  “Sure. Actually, I’ll type it up in an email; I want to explain the situation.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Alright, expect that in your inbox in a few minutes.”

  Jenny hung up and began her one-handed typing job, entitling her email, “Olivia Greenspan.”

  Jenny was having a difficult time drawing with the fussing baby strapped to her belly. Finally, she’d had enough. “Zack,” she said as she walked into the living room, “can you please take him? He’s making me crazy.”

  Zack, who was lying on the couch watching television, looked surprised by the request. “You want me to take him?”

  With her nerves already shot, a snarky remark about her other husband was on the tip of Jenny’s tongue, but she exercised self-control. “If you would.” Her tone was harsher than she had wanted.

  “I wasn’t very good at this the other night,” he replied, making no attempt to get up.

  “Even if he fusses for you, it will help me get this sketch done.” Again, she could hear the impatience in her own voice, even though she had tried to sound civil.

  “Can you wait just a few minutes? This show is almost over.”

  Jenny stood frozen, consumed with a million different hateful emotions. After a few breaths designed to keep her calm, she said, “Zack, I want to get this picture done before I forget what she looks like.”

  “I just need five minutes. I’ve been watching this show for, like, an hour, and I want to see how it ends.”

  Fully aware that she was hormonal and, as Zack put it, difficult to live with lately, Jenny tried to use her brain to react to this situation as opposed to her emotions. For a moment, she considered that Zack’s request may have been reasonable
and her temper was just short because of the baby. On the other hand, she feared that letting him off the hook would be setting a precedent. As it was, he already seemed to regard watching the baby as optional.

  Once again, she wished life came with a manual, or, at the very least, there could be a referee standing there with them, able to make an objective call.

  Ultimately deciding that a murder case was far more important than any television show, Jenny removed the baby from the carrier, albeit with much effort, and handed him to Zack. “Watch while you tend,” she instructed, and then she turned around and left the room.

  She briefly contemplated her level of bitchiness as she headed back to her easel, but that thought process was soon abandoned when she saw her half-completed picture. She picked up her pencil and continued to draw the lines on the woman’s face—lines which seemed to be too plentiful for her age. Her eyes appeared lifeless, too, even though Jenny was capturing a moment where this woman had been very much alive. She wondered how long this mystery victim had lived the life that made her age so prematurely, and what had led her there. For a moment, she considered that Aiden may have actually done this woman a favor by putting an end to her time here on earth. The notion saddened Jenny; nobody should have to live like that. Although tears of sympathy were just below the surface, Jenny kept them at bay, realizing the best thing she could do for this woman would be to determine her identity—and the fastest way to do that was to complete this sketch.

  She heard Steve’s screams from the living room; the sick and twisted part of her enjoyed knowing that Zack was struggling. Hopefully he was developing an appreciation for what she had to go through every time he walked away and left her to fend for herself. The satisfaction faded, however, when Zack appeared in the doorway of the guest room, announcing, “You need to take him. He won’t stop crying.”

  “I need to finish this picture,” Jenny replied emphatically. “Try walking around with him; he likes that.”

  “I’m going to get your mother,” Zack mumbled as he turned away.

  She closed her eyes and put her pencil down, those tears for the victim turning into tears for herself. Five minutes. He lasted five minutes before he gave up and resorted to using her mother. Feeling like it wouldn’t be fair for Jenny to rely on Isabelle for more than just a couple of hours each day, she acknowledged that her day’s allotment was being used up so that Zack could catch a break.

  Zack’s whole existence was a giant break.

  Regret and despair and anger and hate and resentment all simmered and swirled within her, but she had no one to blame but herself for her situation. She chose him, after all. Even after Elanor had enlightened her about making conscious choices, she still walked down the aisle with Zack. Once again, she wanted to kick herself over her selection of men.

  If only she had been born a lesbian, her life would have been so much better.

  After taking a moment to rub her temples, she picked up her pencil and continued to draw. Since this was the only break she was likely to get today, she needed to take advantage of it.

  The picture had been sent to Kyle, and Jenny was doing her best to research the case involving the latest victim. While she hated to judge a book by its cover, she couldn’t help but feel that this woman had been an addict or a prostitute—someone whose murder would not draw as much media attention as a college student. Her suspicions became confirmed when a couple of hours went by and she was able to find nothing written about it.

  She dialed Kyle, who also reported having no success. “I’ve looked into unsolved murders and missing persons cases, in both the Oakton area and Chester, Wyoming, and no one matching her description has come up. No Jane Does, either. I have to ask, are you sure she was killed? Or did she just sustain a beating that she may have recovered from?”

  “He strangled her,” Jenny clarified. “I’m quite sure she wouldn’t have been able to survive what I witnessed.”

  “Hmm,” was all Kyle said.

  “So what do we do?” she asked. “How on earth are we going to figure out who this woman is?”

  “The way I see it, if the information isn’t coming to us, we need to go get it. Do you think you’d be able to make up some ads featuring this woman’s picture? Perhaps if you can plaster the appropriate areas with flyers of her, somebody out there will be able to tell us who she is.”

  “I’m on it,” Jenny said. “Pretty soon, everyone in Oakton and Chester will know her face…and hopefully we will know her name.”

  Chapter 14

  Full-page ads had been placed in every local paper in both locations, and Zack was out plastering flyers featuring the victim all over town. The baby had just finished nursing, and Jenny found this to be the perfect time to check in on Mick.

  After a short drive to the hotel, her nerves began to flutter as she approached Mick’s room. Hoping the knock wouldn’t upset him, she rapped gently, announcing, “Mick, it’s Jenny. Are you able to come to the door?”

  Normal commotion came from inside the room; then Jenny heard the locks being dismantled. She exhaled with relief as he opened the door and greeted her with a smile.

  “I brought you some more clothes,” Jenny said, holding up the shopping bag, trying to make it seem like that was the only reason she came by.

  “Thank you,” he replied. “Do you want to come in?”

  “If you don’t mind…”

  “No, I don’t mind.” He opened the door wider, inviting her in with a sweeping gesture of his hand.

  She smelled marijuana. She’d gone through so much effort to make sure he didn’t drink, yet she’d forgotten all about his bag of weed. If that was helping him cope, though, she decided she wouldn’t harp on him about it. One step at a time.

  The baby was sleeping in his car seat, so she placed that on the floor, setting the bag of clothes on the bed. “So, how are you doing?”

  “I’m okay,” he said with a nod. “I’ve been sleeping a lot.”

  “I’m sure,” she replied, “and I’m jealous.”

  “Oh…sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned that.”

  “No worries.” Jenny took a seat on the edge of the bed. “I’m happy for you. Other than that, how are things going?”

  “They’re going well. I’ve showered, like, six times.” He propped some pillows against the headrest and plopped on the bed, leaning back against them. “I’ve got to say, it feels good to be comfortable and warm. It’s a nice little break.”

  “It doesn’t have to be a break. It could be a way of life for you, if you want it.”

  “You plan to put me up in this hotel forever?”

  “No.” Jenny shook her head. “No free rides, my friend…but I can help you reach a place where you can have a job and a house and all that other lovely stuff that goes along with being a grown up.”

  Mick also shook his head. “I’ll say it again…not going to happen.”

  “I believe I threw the bullshit card on that comment once before.”

  “I’ve had three separate episodes since I’ve been here,” Mick said emphatically. “You would think that since I’m off the street, I’d be able to sleep soundly…but even though I’m in this nice, comfortable bed, I’m still waking up in a cold sweat every couple of hours. Every time I close my eyes, I go right back to that fucking war again. This has been the problem all along, and nothing has changed.”

  “Of course nothing has changed,” Jenny replied. “You haven’t done anything to change it. Are you expecting the problem to just go away?”

  “No, I’m not. And that’s my point. I don’t think it will ever go away.”

  “We’ll just see about that,” Jenny replied, propping pillows on the other side of the bed, also leaning on the headrest. Since the bed was a king and they were rather far apart, she didn’t see this act as being inappropriate. “Let’s talk about better things. First of all, do you mind that I’ve been calling you Mick instead of Jeff?”

  “Nah, I don’t care.
I’ve been called worse.”

  Jenny smiled. “Okay, next question. Where are you from? Originally, I mean.”

  “A dot on the map called Plainville, Oklahoma. Population: about three.”

  “I guess Plainville is an appropriate name for it, then.”

  “You know, I hadn’t thought about that,” he said with a smirk. “It was very plain. Not a whole lot to do except ride your bike and play outside until the streetlights came on.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

  He shrugged. “I had nothing else to compare it to. It seemed okay to me.”

  “I know you have at least one sibling. Were there more?”

  Turning to look at Jenny, he asked, “Is this some sort of psychoanalysis?”

  “Nope. Just trying to get to know you a little better.”

  He repositioned himself so that he was facing forward again. “It was just me and my brother. He was quite a bit older than me, so we didn’t hang out much. I mostly hung out with my friends when I was young. It wasn’t until we were older that we actually became close. And then, when he had Lucas, forget it. I was all over that kid.”

  Jenny smiled. “Nieces and nephews are great, aren’t they?”

  “They sure are.”

  “I have three nephews and two nieces, between all of my brothers combined. I was pretty close to them when I lived back in Kentucky. I remember holding each of them when they were babies; I couldn’t have loved them any more than I did. I couldn’t even imagine how much I was going to love my child.”