Betrayed (A Jenny Watkins Mystery Book 2)

by Becky Durfee

  Reading the latest news on the Caldwell case, she realized Morgan’s viewing was scheduled for the following evening. Jenny decided she’d attend, not only to pay her respects, but also to try to receive a contact. There was a chance Orlowski would show up; she wondered if it would seem weird for him to see her at the service. Would that make him suspicious? Should I try to mask my appearance? She’d have to contemplate that some more.

  Either way, she’d need nice clothes for the service, and those were all at the old house. While she could easily afford new ones, she knew that wasn’t the answer. She needed to go back to the house and face Greg. Rolling over on her air mattress, she let out an aggravated sigh. This line of thinking was not going to help her fall asleep; her brain was proving to be her own worst enemy again. She’d have to switch focus if she stood any chance at all of drifting off.

  Zack, she thought, and the image suddenly comforted her. She remembered how it felt to have him lying beside her, his arm pulling her in close. She imagined him there, and all of her worries seemed to melt away. Before long waves of sleep came over her, and she slept soundly through the night.

  Rain fell gently from the sky as Jenny and Zack parked the car in front of the orchard where Morgan’s body had been found. The exact location of the discovery hadn’t been disclosed, but Jenny was optimistic that Morgan would lead the way. She was reaching for the umbrella she always kept between the seats of her car when she posed to Zack, “Did you bring an umbrella?”

  “No,” he replied. “I don’t even think I own one.”

  “Do you want to share mine?”

  “Nah,” he said. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Suit yourself.” Jenny pushed the car door just enough to fit her umbrella through, opening it before she exited the car. “But the offer still stands if you change your mind.”

  They walked out of the car, heading toward the vast expanse of pecan trees. “Any idea where you’re going?” Zack asked.

  “Not yet,” Jenny replied. “They had said she was found near a service road. I don’t know if that helps us, though. This place is huge.”

  The two silently walked for a while, rain bouncing off Jenny’s umbrella.

  “I don’t guess this rain does a whole lot for evidence, does it?” Zack finally said.

  “I hope they’ve gotten all the evidence they need already.”

  “Unfortunately, they did—Jeremy Stotler’s DNA.”

  Jenny shook her head at the thought of that poor boy still sitting in jail. She quickened her pace.

  After walking for several minutes, Zack pointed off into the distance. “Hey, check that out.”

  Jenny looked in the direction he had pointed; through the trees she was able to make out a white tent. “Do you think that’s where she was found?”

  “I would imagine,” Zack said. “I can’t think of any other reason for a tent being out here.”

  Jenny wondered why she hadn’t heard anything from Morgan thus far. She began to feel a little nervous that Morgan may have crossed over and her messages were a thing of the past.

  That uneasiness dissipated, however, as they walked closer to the tent. With each step Jenny felt a growing sense of fear and dread. Her insides fluttered as she felt a desperate need to run. Walking toward the tent seemed counterintuitive—almost cruel—but Jenny knew she had to continue.

  She held on to Zack’s elbow as the feeling inside her grew more disturbing. “I feel fear here,” she noted.

  Zack didn’t reply.

  As Zack and Jenny crossed the service road, Jenny remembered the headlights that had illuminated Orlowski’s face in her vision. She stopped for a moment in the middle of the dirt path, trying to get a feel for where the car had been parked. After venturing several steps down the road, she paused; she knew she had found the spot.

  She closed her eyes and the sky became dark behind her lids. Orlowski’s dimly lit face appeared before her. He handed her gloves, with a gun pointed at her face.

  “Put these on,” he demanded softly. “If you do everything I tell you, I won’t hurt you.”

  Believing him, Jenny saw herself putting the gloves on.

  Orlowski grabbed her by the shoulder and pushed her a few yards into the trees. He instructed her to lie down, and she did so. At that moment she heard the sound of rain falling heavily around her. Realizing the rain was in the present, Jenny discovered she’d lost the vision. “Dammit!” she exclaimed.

  “What’s the matter?” Zack posed.

  Without looking at Zack she held her umbrella over his head and said, “I was having a vision but it got cut short. The rain interfered with it.”

  “What did you see?”

  “Well, it was definitely Orlowski, and he did have her put gloves on. He forced her into the woods, and that’s when it ended.” She shook her head. “The bastard promised he wouldn’t hurt her if she just did everything he said. You know as well as I do that he didn’t mean it. He knew he was going to kill her, just like he did the others. It was just his way of keeping her quiet. Asshole.”

  “Sad,” Zack noted. “You’d think you could trust a cop.”

  “You’d think,” Jenny replied bitterly. A chill raced up her spine, but she was unsure whether that was due to the weather or the horror that had gone on under that tent.

  The rain began to come down in sheets. Zack spoke loudly so he could be heard over the noise. “Do you want to go back to the car, or do you want to stay here?”

  “The car,” Jenny replied. “I don’t think I’ll be able to get anything like this.”

  The two huddled under the umbrella until they made it back to the shelter of Jenny’s car. Once inside Jenny shuddered one more time, turning the car on and blasting the heat. “That was miserable,” she commented.

  Zack ignored her observation. “So why the switch, do you think?”

  Jenny held her hands up in front of the heat vents, watching the water create a white curtain over the windshield. “What switch?”

  “Well, he killed Lashonda in one location and dumped her in another. It seems with Morgan he killed her here, at the same spot he left her. Why do you think that is?”

  Jenny shook her head. “I don’t know. Do killers usually stick to the same pattern that way?”

  “I thought so,” Zack replied. “But I could be wrong.”

  “Do you think the gloves were the result of the whole ‘Lashonda’s ring’ episode? I noticed during my vision the gloves were a little tight and hard to put on. I had to squiggle my hand around to get my fingers in them. There’s no way I could have gotten them off easily to leave some sort of token behind.”

  Zack shrugged; he was preoccupied. “Could be. You know what confuses me the most, though?”

  Jenny turned to look at Zack for the first time since they’d entered the car, and the sight momentarily took her breath away.

  Zack looked very good wet.

  Regaining her composure, Jenny casually asked, “What’s that?”

  Zack returned Jenny’s glance, once again making her feel overcome with attraction. He looked intently at her and posed, “What took him so long to strike again? Why a three year break?”

  Jenny could hardly pay attention to his words because she was so distracted by his appearance. “I don’t know,” she remarked. “What do you think?”

  “I’m not sure. A three-year-long attack of consciousness? Temporary self-control? Were things going well for him at that time? Did these killings result from something shitty happening in his personal life? That’s what’s been bothering me. Is it really all about opportunity, or something more? If we can get an idea about what causes him to do this, maybe we can get an idea of when it’s going to happen again.”

  Jenny turned back toward the windshield so she could focus. “Isn’t the fact that he’s a sick bastard what’s causing him to do this?”

  Zack snorted. “Maybe cause is the wrong word. I guess I’m talking about a trigger. If he gets in a fight with his
girlfriend, does that inspire him to go out and kill some innocent girl? Or does he just see one of these girls out at night and something takes over him?”

  “He had gloves with him,” Jenny noted as the rain began to let up. “Doesn’t that imply premeditation?”

  “Maybe,” Zack surmised. “But there are varying degrees of premeditation. He could have kept the gloves in the car for months waiting for the right opportunity, or he could have put them in his car that night because he was specifically hunting.”

  “Or maybe they were his gloves…”

  “Well, you said they were small on you, and you—presumably—were a fifteen year old girl. Unless Orlowski has some serious bitch hands, I doubt they were his gloves.”

  “Bitch hands?”

  Zack looked at Jenny as if it was absurd she’d never heard the phrase. “Yeah. Bitch hands.”

  Jenny let out a playful sigh; she couldn’t believe she was genuinely attracted to this man. Placing her face into her hands, she said, “I don’t know. I’m going to drive myself crazy with all this speculating. I wish I could get my hands on something irrefutable. Something that cries, ‘Look, world, Orlowski did this!’”

  “Well, the rain is letting up. Do you want to go back out there and see if you can get anything else?”

  After thinking for a moment, Jenny said, “No. I’ve already seen what happens next, and I don’t want to go through that again. If you want the truth,” Jenny continued nervously, “I was thinking we could go back to your place.”

  “Uhh….” Zack seemed to be unsure if he had understood her correctly. “And do what?”

  With a playful shrug, Jenny said, “Whatever comes to mind.” She flashed him a look that left no question as to what she meant.

  “Sure,” he replied quickly. “You don’t have to ask me twice on that one.”

  Jenny put the car in drive and turned it around. “I do have to confess that you look pretty sexy when you’re wet.”

  “Okay, I’m going to stand outside every time it rains.”

  Jenny laughed as she drove. She couldn’t believe how irresponsible she was being, but it certainly felt good for a change.

  “Uh oh,” Zack called from the bathroom.

  “What’s the matter?” Jenny stretched out, satisfied and naked, cozy under Zack’s covers.

  “Um, is this a bad time for you?”

  Jenny didn’t understand his cryptic message. “What do you mean bad time?”

  “I mean,” Zack said as he emerged from the bathroom, “is this a time when you could get pregnant?” He made a face. “The condom kind of…broke.”

  Flipping comfortably over on to her belly, Jenny remarked, “It’s never a bad time. I’m on the pill.”

  “Oh, thank God,” Zack said, hanging his head with relief. “Leave it to you to be the responsible one.”

  “Well,” Jenny replied, “I’m not exactly sure I’d call myself responsible, all things considered, but I am grateful. I’d have an awful lot of explaining to do if I got pregnant.”

  Zack climbed back into bed, nestling up against Jenny. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, it would be very obvious this child wasn’t Greg’s. We haven’t had sex in months.”

  “Really? Months?”

  “Well, we’ve never christened our new house, and we’ve lived there for about three months now.”

  “Wow. No wonder Greg is cranky.”

  “He was cranky before I stopped putting out. It was cause and effect.”

  “So have you told him you want a divorce yet?”

  “No, I haven’t seen him,” Jenny replied. With a giggle, she added, “I can’t believe I’m lying in bed with the man I just had sex with, talking about my husband.”

  “Eh, shit happens.” Zack rolled over on to his back.

  “So do you have, like, zero respect for me?” Jenny posed.

  “I have zero respect for your husband,” Zack replied casually, “which is why I just had sex with his wife.”

  “You didn’t answer the question.”

  He looked at Jenny. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes, I’m serious.”

  “Of course I respect you,” he replied sincerely. “I respect you more than I respect myself.”

  “Even though I’m cheating on my husband?”

  “Hey, it takes two to tango. I’m just as guilty of this as you are.”

  “Yeah, but you aren’t the one who took a vow.”

  Zack shrugged. “But I’m aware that you did, and I still hit on you anyway. And I am so irresistible, how were you supposed to say no to my advances? I really didn’t leave you much choice.” He looked at her playfully out of the corner of his eye.

  “Yes, that was certainly unfair of you and Little Zack to gang up on me like that. I didn’t stand a chance.” She nudged Zack with her elbow. “On a totally different note, I want to go to Morgan’s wake tonight, and I was wondering if you’d like to come with me.”

  “Are you asking me on a date?” Zack asked.

  “Some date—a nice trip to the funeral home.”

  “I’ve had worse.”

  Jenny laughed. “Seriously, what is with you? It’s like you’ve had sex and now you’ve lost your mind.”

  “Well, if my brain is housed in Little Zack like I think it is, I did just lose part of my mind.”

  Jenny smacked her hand on her forehead. “I hear you, but I’m choosing to ignore you. My question is whether you want to come with me or not to the wake.”

  “Sure, I’ll go.”

  “Okay, next question. I was wondering if I should try to make myself look different when I go, just in case Orlowski is there. I may not want him to recognize me, especially if I’m with you. I was flirting with him pretty heavily the other night. It would be weird if I showed up with another guy.”

  “For all he knows, I could be your brother.”

  “That is true,” Jenny thought out loud. “Actually, I did tell him I was married—unhappily so.”

  “So maybe I could go with you and act like I hate you. Then he’ll think I’m your husband.”

  “Still ignoring you. But here’s something to consider…why would I be at the wake? In my conversation with him, I didn’t act like I knew Morgan.”

  “I’m sure at least half of the people who show up tonight won’t know Morgan. They’ll just want to pay their respects because of the way she died.”

  “I guess you’re right. And if the place is as crowded as the vigil was, or even Morgan’s own front yard, Orlowski might not even notice me at all. I might just be a face in the crowd.”

  “That’s what I’m thinking.”

  Jenny let out a sigh and looked at Zack’s alarm clock. “I guess I’d better head out of here. I need to go back to the house, get some funeral-appropriate clothes, and break up with my husband.”

  “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

  “Oh…and I need to get a lamp.”

  Zack laughed out loud. “That’s quite an interesting to-do list.”

  Jenny slid on her underwear. “And I need to call the cable company…”

  Greg’s car was in the driveway when Jenny pulled in. Butterflies danced around her belly as she approached the front door. She felt as if she reeked of recent sex, and Greg was going to notice as soon as she walked in.

  Gathering a breath, she knocked on the door. A moment later, Greg opened it. “What are you knocking for?” he asked impatiently.

  Jenny had forgotten that she was the only one aware of her new living arrangement. Unsure of how she should respond, she decided to simply ignore the question. She walked in, quickly passing Greg, remarking, “I really need to talk to you for a minute.”

  “You think?”

  Ignore it, Jenny thought. Don’t let him get to you. Just do what you have to do. She straightened her posture and declared, “I have come to the conclusion that our marriage just isn’t working. I am here to tell you that I’ve gotten myself an apartment.”


  Greg let out a chuckle. “Oh yeah?”

  Laughter was certainly not the reaction she had anticipated. “Yes, I have. And why do you think that’s funny?”

  “I just can’t believe how far you’re taking this.” Greg shook his head. “But maybe this is a good thing. You’ll go out, get your little apartment, and start living this life that you think will be so much better. I guarantee you’ll fall flat on your face. Before you know it you’ll be back here asking me to take you back.”

  Jenny’s jaw dropped. She couldn’t speak.

  “But like I said, maybe it’s a good thing. Then you’ll get over this mid-life crisis, or whatever it is you’re having, and you’ll finally stop acting like I’m holding you back. You’ll realize I’m holding you up.”

  “Oh. My. God,” Jenny said. “Oh my God. I cannot believe how blind I have been for seven years. This is how you are. This is how you always have been. You belittle me, making me feel like a failure, on purpose. And for all this time, I believed you. I believed that I was lucky to have you. That I wasn’t worth anything on my own. How stupid could I have been? Isn’t it obvious, Greg? Can’t you see it? You’re the asshole, not me.”

  “Keep talking like this and when you come crawling back to me, begging me to take you back, the answer is going to be no.”

  “No. You keep talking. Please. Because with every word you say it becomes clearer and clearer to me what a shithead you are. By all means, continue.”

  “You need to get out of here,” Greg said sternly. “I see you’ve already taken your ugly, sad little excuses for paintings out of here, which I’m grateful for. I’m glad I don’t have to look at those things anymore…”