Page 113 of Deadly Revenge

“I don’t want anything,” Jenna said as she and Max followed. Putting food or coffee in her roiling stomach was more than she could do.

“How about you, Max?”

“I’ll take a cup of coffee.”

She sat at the table and picked at her cuticles while Granna poured Max’s coffee. Then she set a roll in front of him. “And one for you, Missy. You need to keep your strength up.”

Jenna palmed her hands. “I’m sorry, Granna, I can’t.”

The back door scraped open and they all turned toward it as Sam entered the room.

“Have you found him yet?”

“No.” Jenna blinked back tears.

“Have you remembered anything that might help us?” Max asked.

Sam flattened his lips. “No. Yesterday was like every other day—Randy stopped by the house, said he was going home to take a nap first, then he’d come to the woods. Said he’d call us if he couldn’t find us. But he never showed. And I didn’t see anyone at his house when I left.”

Jenna rubbed her hands on her pants. They needed to be doing something more productive, like checking out Tom Weaver’s recent rentals. She stood. “I’m ready if you are.”

Max nodded. “If either of you hear anything, call us.”

By midmorning Friday, Jenna’s neck muscles were tight enough to break as she pulled away from one of Weaver’s rentals—another dead end. A tension headache threatened, but at least they’d checked off two of the addresses Tom Weaver had given them of recent rentals, this one and another, both families with small children.

They’d also phone interviewed three heirs of the families who’dsold their land to TerraQuest, including the one where Max had left a note for them to call. For what good it’d done them—not one of the families they’d talked to knew anything about the company.

The next address would take them five miles past her house. Jenna felt in the console for ibuprofen and found an empty bottle. She glanced toward Max. “Do you mind if we stop by my house on the way to the next place?”

“Headache?”

“How did you know?” She rubbed her temple.

“That.” He pointed to her action. “And I’ve noticed you massaging your neck.”

Jenna dropped her hand. “I guess tossing and turning instead of sleeping has caught up with me.”

“I’m good with stopping, and then I’ll drive if you’d like.”

She nodded, and ten minutes later, Jenna turned into her drive. She checked the front door while Max checked the back.

“Tape was fine on the back door,” he said when he returned.

“Here too. Shouldn’t be any surprises waiting on us,” she said, pointing toward the tape still in place.

“Right.”

Pain shot through her right temple. She closed her eye and pressed her fingers to her cheekbone. If she didn’t take something fast, she was in for a full-blown tension headache. As soon as she had the door opened, she hurried through to the kitchen, filled a glass of water, and opened her cabinet to grab the ibuprofen.

Jenna froze.

“What is it?”

Before she could stop herself, she blurted, “Sebastian has been here—he rearranged my bottles.”

Max joined her. “Are you sure—”

“Of course I’m sure. I’ve been meaning to organize my cabinets, but I haven’t had time. Besides, I would know if I’d donethis!” She pointed to the neatly arranged bottles. “If you don’t believe me, look at my pantry.”

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