Shattered (A Jenny Watkins Mystery Book 3) Read online

  Shattered

  By Becky Durfee

  Book 3 of the Jenny Watkins Mystery series

  1) Driven

  2) Betrayed

  Copyright 2013

  Dedication

  As always, my undying gratitude goes to my family, whose love and support enable me to keep on writing, book after book. I couldn’t do it without you.

  I’d also like to thank my siblings for torturing me in my youth. Not only did it build character, but it gave me some material for the book. My crazy friends from my younger days also helped in that regard…some of you will recognize a thing or two in here. Don’t worry…names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent.

  In addition, this experience has reinforced something I already knew: I live in a fantastic neighborhood. So many people helped make the cover photo happen. Between Kameron Petree, Jeremy Collins, George and Lesley Schooler, Diane and Alan Renkin, and Candi and Larry Marsh, I was able to have everything in place for the cover shot. Well, everything but a model. Not many guys would be willing to show up at a stranger’s house, replying to a post that says, “Looking for a big, bald guy with a goatee to be a cover model for my next book.” Fortunately for me, Rob Moore was willing to do so. Another shout out goes to Lauren Volkes of Lauren Volkes photography, who offered to take the cover photo for free. All of this only goes to show that my neighbors are truly the best on the planet.

  Of course, there are other cover models besides Rob. Thanks to Scott Durfee, Hannah Durfee, Seneca Durfee and Evan Fish for wearing fall clothes on a summer day and posing for my picture. More thanks to Hannah for teaching me how to use Photoshop once the picture was downloaded. LOL.

  Last but certainly not least, I owe a bunch to my proof-readers: Sam Travers, Stacy Vicks, Felicia Underwood, Bill and Sarah Demarest, and Sue Durfee. You all give me insight into things I wouldn’t have noticed, and my writing is better because of you. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 1

  “Your Dad has had a heart attack,” Isabelle said somberly through the phone.

  Jenny’s world immediately stopped spinning. “Oh my God. Is he okay?”

  Jenny already knew the answer to that based on how long her mother was silent. “No,” Isabelle eventually whispered. “I’m afraid not, sweetie.”

  A million thoughts flooded Jenny’s brain at once, making her unable to focus on anything. “Are you telling me he’s dead?”

  Another long pause. “The doctors did everything they could,” Isabelle said meekly. “But they couldn’t save him.”

  Feeling suddenly weak in the knees, Jenny dragged her back down the refrigerator door until she was seated on the kitchen floor of her tiny apartment. She rubbed her forehead with her hand, too numb for tears, and began operating on autopilot. “If I start packing now,” she said, “I can be there in about six hours.”

  “Well, sweetie, I was actually thinking you should head to your grandmother’s. Your brothers are on their way over to my house now, and first thing in the morning we’ll be heading to Richmond. You might as well just meet us there instead of driving all the way here and then turning around and making another long trip tomorrow. Besides,” Isabelle added sadly. “Your brothers and I have each other. Your grandmother is all alone. I’m sure this is harder on her than anybody. She just lost her son.”

  The words seemed incomprehensible to Jenny. “Okay,” she replied, still in a fog. “I’ll go straight to Grandma’s.”

  “Now you be sure to let Greg do the driving,” Isabelle added. “I don’t want you behind the wheel if you’re upset.”

  Jenny hadn’t told her mother that she had separated from Greg a couple of weeks earlier. She wiped her face from forehead to chin, utterly unsure of how to respond to that comment. Had she not been in a state of shock, some clever words surely would have rolled off her tongue. However, at this moment she was incapable of conjuring up any meaningful thought at all.

  “Okay, ma,” she simply said. After a few moments of silence, Jenny asked, “Are you doing okay?”

  “I think so,” Isabelle replied softly. “While it was sudden, it wasn’t shocking. We’ve known your father has had a bad heart for a while now. But how about you, honey? Are you going to be alright?”

  Jenny felt tears burn the back of her eyes. “Yeah, ma,” she whispered. “I’ll be alright.”

  “Do you want me to come over?” Zack offered through the phone.

  “No,” Jenny replied, tossing a funeral-appropriate outfit—all on one hanger—on the bed. “I’m leaving for Virginia just as soon as I’m finished packing.”

  “I thought your parents lived in Kentucky.”

  “They do,” Jenny confirmed. “But the family plot is in Richmond.”

  “Well, do you want me to go with you to Richmond?”

  Jenny would have smiled had she not been so sad. “That’s sweet of you. Really. But I’m already going to have to explain why Greg isn’t with me. I can’t possibly explain why I’m showing up with another man.”

  “I get that,” Zack said. “But we are just business partners. And friends. Does that change anything?”

  “Business partners and friends who have slept together,” Jenny added as she placed more clothes in her suitcase. “And while I would appreciate the company, I’d rather not have to deal with all the questions, if you don’t mind. Besides, you have a house to look at tomorrow.”

  “You still want me to do that?” Zack and Jenny had an appointment to look at a house in Tennessee that had an in-law suite he could live in. Jenny’s last investigation had landed her dangerously close to death, and Zack wanted to be able to keep a close eye on her in the future.

  “It’s a great house, according to the pictures. It seems like just what we’re looking for. And I trust your judgment.” Jenny sat on the bed, taking a break from her packing. “If you like it, put a bid in. I’d hate to lose it because of unfortunate timing.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely. Besides, there’s nobody more qualified than you to determine if it’s in good shape, Mr. I-used-to-build-houses. If it’s structurally sound and has a good floor plan, go for it.”

  “Okay, if you insist,” Zack replied. After a pause, he added, “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

  Jenny nodded even though he couldn’t see her. Reducing her tone to a whisper, she said, “Yeah.”

  “Do you promise you’ll call me if you need anything?”

  This time Jenny did crack a half-hearted smile. “I promise.”

  After the first round of tears dried on Jenny’s cheeks, thoughts swirled around her head as she drove down the highway. Recently she had come to terms with the fact that her relationship with her father hadn’t been ideal; her dad had always valued her brothers’ athleticism far more than her intelligence and artistic ability, and a little resentment had reared its ugly head over the past few months. She realized her poor choice of husband had most likely been a result of the lacking relationship she’d had with her dad, and she had spent a lot of time lately wishing things had been different.

  But she didn’t want this. She wanted a better relationship with her father, and now
she would never get it. Another round of tears made its way to the surface.

  As she continued down the road, she decided she was very glad she’d procrastinated telling her parents about her impending divorce; her father—a firm believer that marriage should last forever—would not have been too happy with the news. At least now he got to die believing Jenny was still happily married and probably would be for life.

  Jenny let out a snort when she realized that if she had told her father about the divorce, she would have spent the rest of her life wondering if that stress had ultimately led to his heart attack. For once in her life she didn’t do the responsible thing by telling her parents the truth, and strangely enough it worked in her favor. She knew she didn’t cause this terrible thing that had happened to her dad, and as a result guilt would not eat away at her.

  The sadness, however, threatened to tear her apart.

  To head off the tears that were ready to resurface, she considered her grandmother. She had never been exceptionally close to her grandmother, and ordinarily she may have been dreading the awkwardness of an evening alone with her, especially given the circumstances. But Jenny’s first case several months earlier had led her to a wonderful elderly woman named Elanor and a twisted plot that revealed the scandalous lifestyles of Zack’s great-grandparents’ generation. That episode made her realize that older people weren’t always older people, and a lot of them had led lives far more interesting than her own in their younger days. Perhaps her grandmother had a few colorful tales to tell; after all, she hadn’t always been a cat lady.

  “Oh, shit. The cats,” Jenny muttered. She’d forgotten how horribly allergic she was to her grandmother’s house. There would be no way she could stay there; she’d need to get a hotel room, which might actually prove to be helpful. It would give her a place to hide when the shit hit the fan about her divorce. Jenny rubbed her forehead—there was so much she hadn’t told her family, so much to explain. Would they laugh at her when she told them she’d discovered she’s psychic? Should she even bother to tell them at all?

  Jenny placed both hands on the wheel, tightening her grip. She didn’t need to solve everything right away. One thing at a time. First she needed to get to her grandmother’s house and survive that. If the sadness/kitty combo didn’t kill her, she could figure out the rest in the morning.

  Jenny’s eyes were red and puffy as she climbed into the bed at the hotel, although she wasn’t sure whether the tears or the dander had been the primary culprit. Either way, her visit to her grandmother’s had been somewhat brutal and exhausting, and the allergy pill-induced drowsiness had practically turned her into a zombie. For once she actually felt grateful for the side effects; perhaps she would be able to get a little sleep in spite of everything that had happened.

  She felt a wave of fatigue as she nestled into the bed and closed her eyes. Soon she appeared in the kitchen of the house she grew up in, sitting at the table, looking at a younger version of her mother. “I have something to tell you,” Isabelle whispered. Jenny reached out and grasped her mother’s hand, providing her with comfort. Isabelle tucked her hair behind her ear and without looking up softly added, “I’m pregnant.”

  Jenny immediately withdrew her supportive hand. “How far along are you?” she demanded in a deep, male voice. Clearly she was having the vision through the eyes of a man.

  Tears flowed from Isabelle’s eyes. “I think about two months.”

  “Jesus, Isabelle,” Jenny said angrily but quietly. She glanced into the living room where three boys sat watching cartoons, oblivious to the gravity of the situation in the kitchen. “How could you let that happen?”

  “I’m sorry,” she replied. “We weren’t together at the time.”

  Jenny rubbed her face and sighed angrily. “How could you be so careless?”

  Isabelle only cried.

  An excruciating silence ensued, after which Isabelle whispered, “Do you still want to get back together?”

  Jenny paused for a long time, once again glancing at the three innocent boys watching television. Those boys needed a family. A mother and a father. “Yes,” Jenny said begrudgingly. “But if anyone ever asks, that baby is mine, do you hear me?”

  Isabelle nodded silently.

  After another long pause, Jenny added, “I sure as hell hope that baby looks like you.”

  Jenny sat up in the hotel bed with a gasp. “Oh my God,” she said with disbelief. She felt the color drain from her face. “I wasn’t my dad’s.”

  Jenny stared at the ceiling as pieces started to click into place in her mind. Her father had displayed favoritism for her brothers throughout her childhood, but not because they were better than her. Not because he valued sports over art. Not because she had been a disappointment in any way, as she had always suspected.

  The boys were his, and Jenny was not.

  Jenny had always resembled her mother more than her father growing up, but she was the spitting image of neither. She had her mother’s dark hair, but her round face and dark blue eyes looked like no one else in the family. Did she look like her biological father? What a slap in the face that would have been to the man who had raised her.

  At that point Jenny absorbed the implication of what had just happened. Her father’s spirit had visited her, offering an explanation for his behavior here on earth. Perhaps he was aware of his partiality all those years, and this was his way of apologizing. He wanted her to understand.

  A half-hearted smile graced Jenny’s lips. “I get it, Dad,” she whispered. “Thanks for letting me know. It makes so much more sense now.” Tears began to flow as she realized her mere presence must have been a constant reminder of her mother’s infidelity, hurting her father in ways she never imagined. “I’m sorry if I caused you any pain. I didn’t mean it.” She closed her eyes and struggled to add, “If it makes you feel any better, you will always be my dad.”

  The sorrow was agonizing, and for a split second she felt anger toward her mother. How could Isabelle have done such a thing? Then it dawned on Jenny that her mother hadn’t done anything that Jenny herself hadn’t done. Jenny had slept with Zack—several times—while still very much married to Greg. The condom had even broken once, but the birth control pill had been an effective back-up. Had it not been for the pill, Jenny could have been in the exact same situation that her mother had endured.

  For what seemed like the millionth time in the past few months, Jenny once again muttered, “There but for the grace of God go I.”

  There was no way Jenny could be angry at her mother for the predicament she had landed herself in. Maybe, at the time, she hadn’t been happy with her father. Perhaps her parents’ marriage hadn’t always been as ideal as they had led the children to believe. Her parents were human, after all. Suddenly Jenny felt much better about talking to her mother about her own failed marriage. Maybe her mother would understand far better than Jenny ever thought possible. She might have even been able to provide Jenny with valuable insight about the situation.

  Suddenly Jenny regretted not having told her mother earlier. It appears she had grossly underestimated her mother’s ability to relate to imperfection.

  When Isabelle arrived at Jenny’s grandmother’s house the following afternoon, she greeted Jenny with an immediate tight embrace. “My baby girl,” Isabelle whispered. “I love you so much.”

  At first Jenny responded only by crying, but not every tear was shed over her father. For the first time she was seeing her mother in a different light—not just as her parent, but as a person. “I love you too, ma. I know this can’t be easy for you.”

  Isabelle let go of the embrace and wiped her tears. “No. It certainly isn’t easy.” Then Isabelle looked around with a puzzled expression. “Where is Greg, dear?”

  Feeling a certain solidarity with her mother, Jenny looked squarely at Isabelle and said, “He didn’t come.”

  “Oh?” Isabelle posed. “Why is that?”

  “We’re kind of having trouble.�
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  Isabelle grabbed Jenny’s hand as her maternal instincts kicked in. “Well, I’ll tell you what,” she said, patting Jenny’s hand. “I have a lot to do today, but tonight you and I are going out for a mother-daughter dinner. Then you can tell me all about it. Is that okay?”

  Jenny smiled and looked down at her feet. “Sounds great.”

  Isabelle turned to greet Jenny’s grandmother, and at that moment Jenny focused her attention to her oldest brother Brad. “Hey bro,” she said, greeting him with a hug.

  “Hey sis.” Despite her father’s blatant favoritism toward the boys, Jenny had a great relationship with her brothers.

  “I guess Jeanette and the kids didn’t come?” Jenny posed.

  “Nah. The kids are too young for this. We figured it would be best if I came alone. Jeanette sends her love, though.”

  Jenny nodded.

  “I heard what you said to mom about Greg,” Brad continued. “Do you need me to kick his ass for you? I mean, I like the guy and all, but you are my little sister.”

  With a laugh Jenny said, “Nah. No need for violence, but thanks for the offer.” Changing the subject, she added, “Where are Tyler and Brandon?”

  “They drove separate. Karen and Darlene came too, and we all couldn’t fit in one car. Mom and her lead foot got us here faster is all.”

  “I did not,” Isabelle protested emphatically. “I’ll have you know your brother has the lead foot. I don’t know how many times I told him to slow down on the way here.”

  “Okay, remember it how you will, Mom,” Brad joked. “I know the truth.”

  “I swear,” Isabelle said to Jenny with a shake of her head. “Your brother will never change.”

  Jenny’s other brothers arrived a short time later, along with their wives. Aunts, uncles and cousins filtered in as well, and soon Jenny’s grandmother’s house was crawling with people. Between the crowd and the cats, Jenny found herself unable to breathe, desperately needing to head outside into the cold to get some fresh air.