Page 3 of Jenna's Threatened Sanctuary

And she had no way to prove she wasn’t.

“What happened to Stella?” Her voice cracked as memories of her childhood with Stella flooded over her. They’d been close once, best friends. She didn’t deserve to die.

Officer Sawyer frowned but regret flickered across his face. “I’m unable to release that information. But don’t leave town. I’ll have more questions for you soon.”

Jenna closed the door, bracing her palm against the solid wood to keep her shaking legs from giving out. She was suspected of murdering her sister, and the police were tight-lipped about the details. She needed to know what happened to Stella. Then she needed to prove she had no part in her death.

Straightening, she swiped her mug from the table and hurried into her bedroom. If the police had her in their sights, she had to find someone who knew how to get answers. If thepolice weren’t on her side, there was only one person she trusted to handle this.

The one person who despised her the most in the world.

Unplugging her phone from the charger by her bed, she searched for the number to Calvin Spradling’s Private Investigator business and pressed call.

Her nerves danced as she waited to hear his voice for the first time in four years. A voice she’d missed every day since she’d broken his heart.

The screechof the alarm on Calvin Spradling’s phone pulsed into the room and roused him from a light sleep. He swatted the nightstand and grabbed his cell phone. He shut off the obnoxious beeping, tossed the phone on top of the thick down comforter, and buried himself under the blanket for a while longer.

Ring, ring, ring.

A groan rumbled deep in his chest. Talking to anyone before he had his first cup of coffee was never a good idea, but he didn’t have the luxury of missing a conversation with a potential client. Nothing annoyed him more than people who refused to leave a voicemail, making him wonder if he’d nearly escaped an annoying telemarketer or lost a paying customer. He slid his arm out of the comfortable heat of the blanket and grabbed his phone, answering before looking at the number flashing across the screen.

“Calvin Spradling. How can I help you?” He hoped the husky quality of his normally smooth voice didn’t read lazy private investigator who lounged in bed. He coughed quietly to clear the rest of the fatigue from his throat.

“Calvin, it’s Jenna. I need your help.” Desperation leaked into Jenna’s normally calm tone.

At least that’s how he always remembered her. A steady rock when the world went crazy—until the pressure of family obligation became too much.

He bolted up straight and tightened his grip on the device, pushing away all the horrible memories Jenna Simon conjured. “Why in the world do you think I’d help you?”

He flexed his fingers, his brain commanding him to hang up. But he couldn’t break the connection. A tiny part of his heart fluttered at the sound of her voice.

“Please. The police showed up at my house this morning. My sister was murdered. They think I’m involved.”

Shock rooted him to the spot. Their relationship might have ended badly, but the woman didn’t have a violent bone in her body. She’d never hurt anyone, let alone kill someone. Especially Stella. Jenna had made it her life’s mission to help her sister out of trouble—even when that trouble had cost Calvin his position in the police academy. “Do they have any evidence?”

“They didn’t say much. Please, can we get together and talk about this? You’re the only one I trust. I don’t know what else to do.”

Calvin pinched the bridge of his nose. Bitterness and anger shouted for him to hang up and let Jenna deal with the mess she wound up in, but he could hear the tears in her voice.

He ran a palm over his forehead. Meeting her to talk over everything might not be the best idea, but the least he could do was find out what kind of shitstorm waited for her. “I can’t promise I’ll help but stop by and we can talk about what happened.”

“Can I come by in twenty minutes?”

Wincing, he shoved his hand through his tangled mop of hair. He’d never forgive Jenna for hurting him, but this wasnothing more than meeting a potential client. “Make it forty-five.”

2

Jenna’s hands trembled as she stood on the wide front porch of Calvin’s farmhouse. Nausea pitched high in her stomach. Coming face to face with her ex, begging for his help, was the last thing she wanted do right now. Her history with her sister was riddled with bumps and hardships, but nothing had ever lessened her love for Stella.

And now she was gone, and the last words they’d spoken had been out of anger.

A familiar guilt nagged at her conscience. She’d never have the chance to make things right with Stella. And worse yet, she couldn’t even take a second to properly grieve the sister who’d once been her best friend. Not if the police had a target on her back. Gritting her teeth, she tamped down her roiling emotions. She had a son to protect.

She straightened her posture, hoping Calvin couldn’t read her as well as he used to. It seemed like only yesterday Calvin was the man she thought she’d spend the rest of her life with.

Now she’d stand before him and hope that he’d actually talk to her. Unlike when she’d refused to abandon her sister afterStella’s actions cost him his job and he’d walked away from everything they’d built. Everything they might have been.

A beat of silence passed then footsteps hurried toward her, spiking her nerves. The door squeaked open, and Calvin stood behind the storm door. Scruff covered his jaw, and his dark hair was a little longer than the last time she’d seen him.

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