Page 86 of Jenna's Protector

Jenna, beyond my reach.

I shake my head, trying to dislodge the images. I’m overreacting. She’s fine. She has to be. I cling to that thought like a lifeline.

Marlowe’s Café comes into view, but as I pull up, all hope withers and dies. The windows are dark, the usually inviting atmosphere cold and forbidding.

The café looks wrong.

I’m out of the car in a flash, the night air cool against my skin. I rush to the door, my hand shaking as I fumble with the keys. The lock clicks open, the sound unnaturally loud in the stillness.

I push inside, the bell above the door jingling cheerfully, incongruously.

“Jenna?”

My voice echoes in the empty space, bouncing off the walls and coming back to me as if in mockery. I stride to the counter, my eyes scanning every corner, every shadow.

But she’s not here.

The fear that’s been building in my chest expands, seeping into my veins like ice water. This isn’t like her.

I pull out my phone, my fingers numb, and dial her number—again.

The ringing fills the empty café, echoing off the walls, but there’s no answer—just the cold, impersonal click of her voicemail.

I end the call, my hand clenching around the phone until the edges bite into my palm.

Think, Carter. Think. What’s your next move?

I take a deep breath, forcing air into my lungs, and try to focus.

Okay. Okay. One step at a time. Retrace her steps. You’re a detective, damn it. Detect.

I look around the café again, this time with a critical eye. Is there anything out of place? Any sign of a struggle, a clue to what might have happened?

No.

Everything is neat and orderly. Just as she left it. Just as she always leaves it.

Except for one thing.

Two mugs sitting on the counter.

They’re both half-full of tea.

Someone else was here.

With uncooperative fingers, I fumble for my phone, scrolling through contacts until I find Walt’s number. The call connects on the second ring, and Walt’s voice fills my ear, a mix of surprise and confusion.

“Carter? What’s up?”

“Jenna. Is she with you?” I force the words out, each one feeling like lead on my tongue.

There’s a pause, a beat of silence that stretches for an eternity.

“No, she told me to head out early. Said you were on your way.” Walt’s tone shifts, concern bleeding into his words. “What’s going on?”

The ground beneath my feet tilts as if the world is spinning off its axis.

“I can’t find her.” I rake a hand through my hair, trying to focus past the pounding in my head.