Now, as she watched him duck into the garret over the garage, she felt a little sense of relief. Even though Jake Turnquist wasn’t the first man she would have chosen for the job. There was a part of her that silently wished she could have hired the sheriff to protect her and the girls. Ever since considering a bodyguard, she’d silently imagined Shane Carter filling the studio apartment with his things, watching the property, sitting with her at night, ensuring that all the doors and windows were locked, that the fence surrounding her ranch wasn’t breached.
As much as Carter put her on edge emotionally, Jenna had come to trust his instincts and respect him as an officer of the law. From Rinda, Jenna knew enough about him personally to believe that he would do whatever was necessary to keep her and her daughters safe.
Except that he had an entire county to protect, not just her little family.
Still…she imagined him carrying his suitcase up the garage stairs.
Oh, come on, Jenna, you know better. It’s not in the studio where you really want the man, is it? There’s a part of you that would like to know what it was like for him to hold you, to kiss you, to make love to you.
Wow! She slammed the door to her mind shut at that thought.
Where had it come from?
She would be a fool to deny that Shane Carter was a rugged, sexy lawman, but so what? She had only to look at the latest batch of mail lying on the kitchen table, and the envelope containing her receipt for her traffic ticket, to remember what a jerk Carter could be. He was off limits. Way off limits. What in the world was she doing, fantasizing about the man? Hadn’t she overheard what he thought of her when he’d caught her complaining to Rinda at the church? Hadn’t he insinuated she thought herself to be some kind of Hollywood royalty?
Yes, but that was before you knew him, before he showed some concern for you and your daughters, before you noticed the wink of laughter in his eyes, the hint of kindness. Face it, you’re falling for the man.
“Oh, no way!” she said out loud.
“No way’ what?” Cassie asked.
“Nothing. I…I got lost in my own thoughts.” She glanced out the window again and saw that Jake had finished taking his things up the stairs and was walking to the gates. He’d mentioned that he was going to double-check the gates and security system, then walk the fence line and get a feel for her property.
After that, he might have more suggestions.
She was willing to listen to them all.
She hadn’t gotten over the feeling of uneasiness every time she stepped into her bedroom. How had an intruder slipped in and out to leave his terrifying note? How many times had he been in her house? In her bedroom? Had he sat on the bed when she was gone? Stretched out on it? Imagined her with him? Touched himself while looking at the picture of her and her daughters on her bureau?
“Mom? Are you okay?” Cassie asked, bringing Jenna crashing back to the present. Cassie was staring at her as if there was something wrong and Jenna suddenly realized she was leaning against the counter, scratching her arms with her opposite hands. She hadn’t even known it. “You’re not freaking out or anything, are you?”
“Nah!” Jenna forced a smile and lied through her teeth. “Just thinking about the production. We’re going to have another rehearsal tomorrow night and the last one was a bust. We scheduled another and had to cancel because of the weather, but…” she looked outside again to the gray clouds, “the weather’s supposed to clear. That means school tomorrow for you—”
Cassie let out a melodramatic groan.
“—and yet another gripping rehearsal of It’s a Wonderful Life for me! Now, let’s go find your sister and see what she wants for lunch.”
“Let me guess. Mac and cheese, chicken nuggets, or pizza.”
“Or nachos,” Jenna added, glad to have changed the subject. “Later, you can help me put up the outdoor lights.” She surveyed the mess still pushed into one corner of the den. Christmas lights, garlands, bows, and ornaments peeked out of boxes.
“Can’t Hans do it? Or the new guy—Turnquist?”
Jenna chuckled. “I don’t think that’s what he signed on for. You’re the one that brought up families doing Christmas stuff together, remember? Baking cookies? Singing
carols? Well, we’re going to start with the lights. It’ll be the beginning of a new tradition.”
“Great,” Cassie said with a sigh. “Why did I open my big mouth?”
“Because you’re filled with the spirit of Christmas.”
“Oh, save me,” she whispered, but laughed—and Jenna felt better than she had since discovering the note in her bedroom, if only slightly.
Two days after the accident, Carter drove into town and passed the fir tree that Roxie’s little car had smashed into. Since her crumpled, abandoned car had been discovered, no one had heard a word from her. Nor had search parties found any indication of what had happened to her. The tree bore a nasty scar, bark splintered, bare wood now covered with rime.
The Oregon State Police were working with the FBI, but Lieutenant Sparks kept Carter in the loop. Because of the suspected abduction, the state crime lab had processed the site where the car had been wrecked and the Corolla, towed to a police garage, had been gone over by technicians. They’d found little evidence except to note that apparently Roxie had been on her way to Carter’s house when she’d lost control of the car. A fresh dent on the rear bumper and fender indicated that she might have been hit, though there were several other dents on the car, all of which appeared older that this new scrape. The lab was working with the scratches on the bumper, but no paint had been left behind.
Roxie had left her purse, gym bag, laptop computer, spilled thermos of coffee, and a map she’d printed off the Internet which included driving directions to Carter’s front door. According to her editor, she’d been working on several stories at the time, one of which had been Sonja Hatchell’s disappearance, and now she, too, was missing.