Page 13 of Jenna's Threatened Sanctuary

Poking around the tidy space twisted the dagger in her middle more and more until the pain was almost unbearable. Neatly stacked plates and bowls with pretty patterns shouldn’t cause such an intense reaction, but the idea her sister had finally gotten her life on track without her made each breath harder than the next.

Maybe Calvin had been right all those years ago. She hadn’t helped her sister, she’d enabled her. She’d held her back and reminded her of her mistakes, shackling her to the image she’d never been able to shed. At least not while Jenna was around.

Needing to sit, she lowered herself on the hard chair at the two-person table. She shifted Oliver in her arms. A stack of unopened envelopes sat on top of a large black book. Intrigued, she pushed the mail to the side.

Interesting. A Bible. They hadn’t grown up in a religious household, and by the time their parents had been killed in a car accident, taking Stella to church was the last thing on Jenna’s mind. She’d been too busy figuring out how to make it through medical school while balancing a serious relationship and taking on the responsibilities of her younger sister.

Jenna ran her finger along the indented words on the cover of the Bible then flipped it open. A picture of the two of them from Jenna’s high school graduation was wedged inside. Jenna swallowed past the lump lodged in her throat. She and Stella wore matching smiles, their hair long and straight. Stella had been so young, so full of possibilities. Jenna would give anything to go back in time and relive this moment. To have this sister back.

Needing to be close to Stella again in some way, she picked up the photo, revealing thick black ink scrawled across the page underneath.

To Stella,

May God bless you and keep you safe and well. Trust in Him and your path will be bright.

Tears flowed down Jenna’s cheeks, and she pressed the photo to her breaking heart. As much as she wished she could have been a part of Stella’s life and cheer her on as she struggled to beat her addiction, she was glad she’d found some peace.

Determination surged through her, chasing away the fear and sadness and guilt. Stella’s peace had been hard fought and way too short lived. Someone had stolen her future—her dreams. And Jenna wouldn’t rest until that person was thrown in jail and justice was served.

Calvin pushed openthe third door, hoping to find something more than the nothing he uncovered in the lone bathroom and spare room. He’d figured the police had already confiscated anything that could aid in the investigation, but he’d hoped for at least a breadcrumb or two. So far, all he’d found was a shit load of makeup and a closet full of shoes.

Fingers crossed, Stella’s bedroom would unveil some of the answers he needed to prove Jenna’s innocence. He didn’t need to find Stella’s killer, that was the police’s job, he just needed to make sure Jenna didn’t take the fall. Then he could go back to his lonely life without Jenna and her child getting under his skin.

Shadows covered the corners of the bedroom, the glow from the hallway sweeping in through the slightly opened door. A sweet scent lingered in the air, as if Stella had sprayed something before leaving the room for the last time.

He studied his options. Not much furniture fit in the small room. A queen-sized bed, a tall dresser, a chair squeezed in the corner, and a narrow nightstand. No photos or discarded noteswere out in the open. Again, nothing left behind to give him any insight into Stella’s personal life. His best hope was to find something the police had overlooked.

Something Stella kept hidden.

Most people buried secrets in the same two places—stuffed in a drawer or under the bed. Dropping to his knees, he brushed aside the gray bed skirt and peered beneath the metal frame.

Nothing. Not even a stray piece of clothing or a tumbling dust bunny.

He sat on his heels and slid his hand between the mattress and the box spring. His fingers glided over the cotton fabric stapled against the box spring, but nothing snagged against his hand. Turning his palm upward, he pressed his fingertips along the bumps and grooves of the mattress. His index finger slipped inside a tiny slit, and excitement bubbled in his throat.

He swiveled his finger around the hole until the rough edges of paper rubbed his flesh. He stuffed more of his hand through the opening, wrapped his palm around a cluster of cards and pulled them out from beneath the mattress.

Falling to his ass, Calvin smoothed the wrinkled papers and read through the first one. His breath caught in his throat. This was saved from a local florist, a treasured token hidden away. A sentence neatly written professed love and devotion to Stella. He got to the end and disappointment crushed down on him.

No signature.

He flipped to the next card and the next, but none boasted a name other than Stella’s at the top, followed by another sappy sentence. Grabbing his phone from his pocket, he opened his camera and took pictures of every card. He could read them when they left. Right now, he needed to put the papers where he’d found them then find out if Jenna knew anything about Stella’s love life.

Lifting the edge of the mattress, Calvin found the man-made hole and stuffed the papers back inside. He clamored to his feet, flattening the soft patchwork quilt on the bed to hide evidence that he’d tampered with anything in Stella’s room, then went in search of Jenna.

He stepped into the kitchen, and the tortured expression twisting Jenna’s face almost took him out like a baseball bat to the knees. He rounded the table and crouched beside her. “Hey. What happened?”

She thrust a picture at him and used her free hand to wipe her eyes. “I found this in a Bible. Looks like she’d found God. That religion may have helped her get sober.”

Unable to stop himself, he brushed a stray strand of hair from her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

She lifted one shoulder, the one without a sleeping toddler rested against it. “Yes. No. I don’t know. I’m glad she found what she needed, I just wish…hell, I don’t know. I wish she were still alive and maybe we could have mended our relationship. Found a way to move forward as a family, as friends.”

He had no words to make her feel better or change the way things were. He wished like hell he did. Wished he could take away her hurt and sadness. Wished he could wrap his arms around her and offer the support and comfort she needed.

Instead, he found her a tissue and waited for her to pull herself together.

“Sorry,” she said, dabbing the tissue on her moist cheeks. “The last thing you want is to hear me cry about Stella and how crappy our relationship ended.”

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