Page 78 of Jenna's Protector
With years of detective work behind me, I know what to look for. It’s going to be a slog, but I don’t mind hard work.
“Carter’s right.” Mitzy is already typing furiously on her laptop, furrowing her brow in concentration. “I’m on it.”
“It’s more than maids and gardeners.” I pull at my chin, feeling the scruff of a beard poking through. “It’s the carpenters and repairmen. Windows need replacement. Doors need new seals. Tiles get cracked. A florist, if they bothered with flowers. Security cameras and others. If we can get the serial numbers…”
“Already on it. Sending the bumblebee drones in to pull that data,” Mitzy interjects without missing a beat.
“That’s great.” Yet again, Guardian HRS impresses me with their capabilities. “They can do a lot of things internally, security being one of them, but they still had to buy the hardware. And then there are the service providers—the electricians, plumbers, HVAC specialists. They leave traces.”
I pace a bit more, the puzzle pieces coming together in my mind. “We need to look at delivery logs and supplier lists. They might have used aliases, but there are always consistencies. Even fake identities leave patterns.”
Mitzy kicks Ethan’s foot, prompting him to switch places with me. “Swap with Carter. It’s time to pick your detective’s brain.”
Ethan grins, shifting his chair. “Alright, Carter. Let’s dig deeper. What about the surrounding area? Any chance neighbors or local businesses noticed something?”
“Absolutely.” I appreciate the quick shift in gears. “We canvas the area. Talk to anyone who might have seen unusual activity. Delivery drivers, joggers, dog walkers. Everyone’s a potential witness.”
I take a seat, leaning over the table. “We also check for any unexplained surges in utility usage. Sudden spikes in electricity or water can indicate recent activity. Plus, we look at any unusual shipments. High-frequency deliveries of specific items can point to what was going on inside. I’m thinking booze. My guess is we’ll find large purchases of top-shelf alcohol. Those kinds of requests spark questions and curiosity. If we can find who supplied alcohol to that place, flowers for events… Catering.” My mind spins with possibilities.
Mitzy types rapidly, capturing every detail. “Got it. I’ll start compiling the data and cross-referencing with what we have.”
“Good.” I feel a renewed sense of hope. We follow every thread, no matter how small. It’s the meticulous work that breaks cases like this wide open. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that patience and persistence always pay off.
I appreciate Mitzy’s comment. I’ve felt a bit useless with the power and might of Guardian HRS. Their resources make me feel as if I have little to contribute to the case.
But the devil truly is in the details. That’s where I thrive, and I know exactly where to look.
The next few days are a blur of activity. Sam, CJ, and Ethan pore over satellite images of the compound, looking for any signs of recent activity. Stitch and Jeb comb through financial records, scouring public records to trace back the construction of the compound as far as possible. Blake, along with Gabe, Walt, and Hank, pore over the few physical pieces of evidence we managed to collect, hoping for a fingerprint, a stray hair, or anything.
No stone is left unturned.
It’s grueling, frustrating work, with each dead end and false lead chipping away at our resolve, but I refuse to give up, refuse to let Jenna or the girls down.
Mitzy and I work shoulder to shoulder, digging through the weeds, looking for anything that will tell us more about this organization.
But it’s slow going, and as the hours tick by and the days pass, my frustration mounts. Every dead end and false lead feel like a personal failure.
It’s late when I finally make it back to Jenna’s apartment. She’s curled up on the couch, Max’s head resting comfortably on her lap. The goofball has definitely made himself at home.
His tail thumps lazily against the cushions, but he’s too content soaking up all the attention Jenna’s giving him to get up and greet me. I chuckle at the sight.
“Some guard dog,” I mutter under my breath, finding it funny as hell, but then I notice the tension in the room, the way Jenna’s shoulders are hunched.
She looks, her eyes shadowed and heavy with a haunted look.
“Hey.” I sink down beside her, pulling her into my arms. “Rough day?”
“The memories… They’re getting worse.” She leans against my chest, her fingers curling into my shirt. “It’s like, now that I’ve started remembering, I can’t stop.”
“I’m so sorry. I wish I could make it all go away.” My heart aches for her, for the pain she’s enduring.
“You being here helps.” Her voice is soft, muffled against my shoulder. “Knowing I’m not alone.”
We sit like that for a long time, just holding each other. Max whines softly, nuzzling Jenna’s hand. Even he can sense her distress.
That night, the nightmares come again. Jenna thrashes in her sleep, whimpering and crying out. I hold her close, whispering soothing words, but it’s like she’s trapped in a place I can’t reach. When she finally wakes, she clings to me, her body shaking with sobs.
“It was so real,” she gasps. “I was back there, in that room…”