“So whoever she’s staying with is keeping me informed?”
“That’s correct.”
Good. They were getting someplace. “So whoever this is must think that there’s a chance for our marriage.”
“No.” Chantel’s eyes filled with that damned sympathy again and he was starting to feel pathetic.
Is that how he looked? Like some kind of sap who couldn’t accept that his beautiful wife had left him?
Is that what he was?
Wallowing in disbelief rather than accepting facts and getting on with his life?
“Wayne understands your concern and doesn’t want you to worry that she’s in danger. That’s all. On another note, we might have something on Steve.”
She had news. That was what mattered. And he had to get his son to bed so that he could find out exactly what Chantel had driven all this way to tell him.
* * *
JENNA FINISHED WITH the laundry, walked partway to Renee’s bungalow and continued on to her own, her arms laden with clothes. She put her things away. Stopped at the kitchen table to ask her roomies how the brownies were. Latoya had done the baking. And Latoya and Carly were sitting over a plate of them with glasses of milk.
“Good. You want one?” Carly asked, jumping up. “I’ll get you some milk.”
“No.” Jenna chuckled. “But thank you. I’m still full from dinner.” Or from the knot in her stomach. She wasn’t sure which.
“I cleaned your bathroom and vacuumed your room for you,” Carly piped up. “I hope you don’t mind. It was my week to do the living area and your door was open.”
Making a mental note to herself to keep her door shut—not because she didn’t trust Carly in her room, but because she wasn’t going to have the younger woman think that she had to do special favors for her now—Jenna said, “Oh, Carly, what a sweet gesture. Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know.” The girl’s mouth said one thing, but the almost adoring look in her eyes said another. And Jenna figured a talk between them was in order.
She wasn’t a hero. She just wasn’t going to have anyone else dying because of her.
“What is it?” Latoya asked as she bit into a brownie. “You just went white.”
“I... Nothing,” Jenna told her, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. Anyone else dying because of her?
Where had that thought come from?
Had the conversation she’d had with Renee planted it there?
“I...uh...I forgot I have a meeting up at the main building,” she said.
“At nine-thirty?”
“It was the only time that worked. I just wanted to bring my laundry back.” She was backing away from the table. Toward the door. “I’ll see you guys when I get back. If you’re still up.”
“It’s dark out,” Carly said. “I can walk with you if you’d like.”
“No, I’m fine. The walk is well lit and I have my phone.”
“Well, at least make sure you call security for a ride back,” Latoya reminded her. It was a newly instated rule that anyone out and about on the premises after ten o’clock had to be accompanied by security.
“I will.” Jenna was at the door. She reached behind her for the knob and hurried out.
She wasn’t sure where she was going. But she needed to think. To figure out what was going on with her. To be certain that she could trust her own mind.
It had been a long time—since leaving the first shelter several years before—since she’d doubted her own instincts.