Page 63 of The Husband's Secret
Shelton snorted a laugh. Then he frowned and fished his phone from his pocket. “Shelton,” he barked in answer.
Ben glanced at Brenda, gave her a reassuring smile.
Shelton swore repeatedly, thanked the caller and then shoved his phone back into his pocket.
“Well, Ms. Devers, looks like you might be the last one standing.”
She straightened away from the door. “What do you mean?”
“That was an officer at the scene of a car accident on the other side of Chapman Mountain. He called me because I have an alert on the players related to this case. The driver involved is Lena Jenner. She’s alive but in bad shape.”
“What about her son?” Brenda asked, her voice strained with worry.
“He’s banged up but stable.”
“Do you know what happened?” Ben decided not to mention anything about the tracking device. Not just now anyway.
Shelton shook his head. “No other cars involved. She was probably driving too fast. Crashes like that happen on that stretch of road going over the mountain all the time.”
Shelton was right then… Brenda was the last one standing.
Ben would not allow anyone to get to her.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Friday, May 8
Mariposa Road
Huntsville, 1:30 a.m.
Brenda was sick with worry. It was half past one and Mallory had not called back. Did she have some way of knowing they were here at this house—the house where Scott had been murdered—surrounded by police?
She stood in the corner of the living room. This was where Shelton had sequestered them it felt like forever ago. Brenda closed her eyes. She wanted her child. She wanted her life back.
“Excuse me, Ms. Devers.”
Her breath caught as she pulled back from the troubling thoughts. The new special agent from the FBI, this one supposedly real, had appeared in front of her. What was his name? Lance something. English. Yes, that was it. The man was painfully young. Was he even old enough to be an FBI agent?
“Yes?” She glanced around in search of Ben. He’d gone to find Shelton and ask why they hadn’t been allowed to leave.
“I wanted to give you an update about your daughter.”
Thank God. One of the things she’d asked Shelton while he took their statements was why she hadn’t heard anything else from the Amber Alert. Wasn’t a parent supposed to be kept informed? As for getting excited about whatever he had to say, there was no point. She knew who had her daughter and she couldn’t say a word to this man or to Shelton.
“There have been numerous calls and even a few sightings, but none have panned out,” the agent explained. “But the Bureau is working with Huntsville PD in an effort to find your daughter. You and I, however, need to discuss preparing for the potential of a ransom demand. No one has called you as of yet, is that correct?”
For one instant—a single uncertain moment—she wanted to tell him. But she reminded herself that the other FBI agent, the murdered one, had faked his way into this case. And in truth she still wasn’t certain that she could trust Detective Shelton, or anyone else for that matter.
“That’s correct.”
“Could we arrange a time to meet at your home and see what we can do? We’ll put a wiretap on your phone.”
“Sure. I would appreciate that.” She might as well make her response sound authentic.
“How about two this afternoon? I can have a small team together by then to get the ball rolling.”
“That sounds good. Thank you.” If she were lucky, by then she would have Janey back and Mallory would be just a bad memory.
