Page 82 of Deadly Revenge

“I found it.” Alex hesitated. “But I would rather discuss it with you in person.”

A chill inched down her spine. “How about in thirty minutes? We’re on our way to Harold Pipkin’s office to check out something.”

When Alex agreed, Jenna disconnected the call. “We need to get my grandmother’s thoughts on the accident, see how it tallies with the report once we get it.”

“I agree, but I have a feeling she won’t want to discuss it,” Max said. “How about Sam or your dad?”

“I don’t know. We can always ask, but let’s start with Granna.”

He nodded and followed her down the stairs. Once they were outside, the same feeling she’d had earlier returned. Someone was watching her. She could feel it. Jenna scanned the area, and everything seemed normal.

“What is it?” Max said.

“Nothing.” She pointed across the street. “That’s the attorney’s office. Let’s go see if he knows anything about his grandfather’s clients.”

No one sat at the desk inside the law office, and Jenna glancedaround at the beige walls and the furniture that, while not worn, looked like it’d been there awhile. “Harold must not have changed anything after his grandfather died.”

“Maybe he doesn’t have enough business to afford changes,” Max said.

“It gives me hope that maybe he hasn’t gotten rid of his grandfather’s files.”

A fiftysomething woman stepped into the room and stopped when she saw them. Jenna blinked. She remembered Trudy Mills from church when she was a teenager, and that she worked for Cal.

“I didn’t hear you come in. May I help you?” She did a double take. “Jenna Hart? Is that you?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I heard you were back in town. It’s good to see you.”

Jenna made the introductions.

“So you’re Harold’s secretary?” Jenna said.

“Make that personal assistant, Missy,” Trudy said, arching an eyebrow. Then her mouth twitched. “That’s a fancy title for secretary, but he insists that I use it. Pays the same.”

Jenna swallowed a smile.

“Is Mr. Pipkin in?” Max asked.

Trudy frowned. “Do you have an appointment?”

“No,” he said. “But we won’t take up much of his time.”

“Time is something he has plenty of, but he’s not here. He usually takes two hours for lunch and...” Trudy glanced at her watch. “He still has fifteen minutes.”

“May we wait?” Jenna asked.

“It’s a free country. I would offer you coffee, but we’re fresh out.”

“We don’t need any,” Max said. “Have you been with the attorney long?”

“He sort of inherited me. As Jenna knows, I worked for hisgrandfather, although I think young Mr. Pipkin would like to trade me in for a younger model,” she said, giving them an as-if eye roll.

“His grandfather is why we’re here,” Max said. “Maybe you can help us.”

“If it has to do with one of Cal’s clients, I’m sure I can.”

Interesting. She called the grandfather Cal, but the grandson Mr. Pipkin. Jenna had a feeling they would get more information from her than the lawyer. “It’s about a company called TerraQuest. Cal Pipkin wrote the deeds for land they bought back in the late 1990s. It was located where the reservoir is now.”

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