Page 115 of Deadly Revenge

“I don’t see that there’s anything to talk about. I think someone has been in my house and you don’t.”

“I would if there was some sort of proof.”

She waved her hand toward the house. “The cabinets aren’t proof enough for you? I’veneverorganized my cabinets like that. The more I think about it, something about the intruder’s voice makes me believe it was Sebastian in my room.”

“But—”

“I don’t know how he’s getting into the house. Maybe he picks the lock. We both know that’s possible.”

“Yes,” Max said slowly. “But how does he getoutof the house? It takes time to pick a lock. And why would he close the door when he left? That would take even more time.”

“I don’t know how he does it, but he’s getting in my house someway.” She caught his gaze and held it. “I didn’t rearrange my cabinets—I’m not crazy.”

“Jenna, I don’t think you’re crazy.”

“You couldn’t prove it by me.” She turned and opened the driver’s door. A sudden rush of tears had her blinking furiously.

“Somehow I always thought you’d have my back,” she said, her voice breaking.

The next thing Jenna knew, he’d turned her around and pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry ... it’s just that I’m worried. You’ve been through so much the last few years. Getting shot, Phillip, changing jobs, and now your dad—with your history, it’s enough to trigger PTSD...”

Jenna felt him take a deep breath.

“But, I do believe you,” he said softly. “If you know someone was in your house, then we’ll find out how he’s getting in.”

That’s when the dam broke. He held her close, rubbing her back as she cried. Finally she pulled away. “I’m so sorry—”

“Don’t apologize. It’s only a shirt.”

“At least I don’t wear makeup,” she said, taking the handkerchief he gave her to blot her eyes. “And we need to get back to figuring out who has my dad. And who TerraQuest belongs to.”

“For today, forget TerraQuest—your dad and what’s going on here is our top priority.” He was quiet as he thought. “You said your grandmother has a key. Maybe she made an extra one and someone took it. Who else has a key?”

“Just my dad ... oh, wait—I have a spare hanging inside the cabinet over the stove.”

“Is it still there?”

“We can check.” They returned to the house, and she opened the cabinet door. The three keys she kept there—one for Granna’s house, her dad’s, and her spare—were all there and hanging in their normal places.

“So much for that theory,” Jenna said. “And we need to table this and check out the rest of Tom Weaver’s rentals.”

Max agreed with her, and they returned to her SUV. “Why don’t I drive and you navigate?”

“Good idea.” She climbed into the passenger side and booted up her GPS. “We need to stay on this road for two miles, then turn to the right.”

They’d passed her grandmother’s house when Max said, “I can’t get your intruder off my mind and how he has access to your house. It doesn’t make sense, unless ...”

Jenna turned to him. “Unless what?”

“Unless he took the key that first morning and had a spare made. That would explain how the deadbolt was always locked after he left. Where would he go to get a key made?”

Jenna tapped her fingers on the armrest. “The key I had made for Dad and Granna came from Walmart, but the hardware store duplicates them as well.”

“Let’s call them.”

Jenna called Walmart first and learned the store’s key duplicator had been down for two weeks, waiting on a part to repair it. The local hardware store had made a few keys but didn’t remember making one for a stranger.

“That was a strikeout,” Jenna said.

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