“At least eat something,” he sighs, offering me a protein bar and a bottle of water. I look down at them, back at Sam, and then tear into the wrapper, scarfing it down. My next words are mumbled through chewing. “How is she?”
“Alive,” Sam says. “For now. She hasn't woken up, but she's fighting. Detective White did a press conference asking for anybody with any information to contact him. Some of Millie's family was there. Her ex-husband was even there.”
“Her ex-husband?” I ask, chasing down the protein bar with a swig of water.
“Apparently. I don't know anything about him other than that his name is Jared Haynes.”
“That's how she got her last name,” I note. “That's not her maiden name.”
“No,” he says.
“Was the press conference posted?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he says. “Why?”
I pull my phone out and go to the Harlan police department’s social media page. The first post is the video of the press conference. Even without starting it, I can see the detective standing at the podium with people on either side of him. One is an older woman who I assume is Millie's mother, standing with a younger man who must have been her ex-husband. But it's the man on the other side of him that stops me.
Starting the video, I sink slowly down into a chair.
“We are all horrified by this seemingly random act of violence coming right on the heels of the tragic discoveries of the last few weeks. Everyone in Harlan deserves to feel safe. So, we must work together to find those responsible for these horrors and stop them. As Millie Haynes fights for her life, her family asks the community to keep her in your prayers and to speak up if you know anything. As representative of the family, Millie's older brother Rod would like to say a few things about his sister in hopes that may help find who's responsible.”
“Damn it all,” I snap, stopping the video and shoving my phone into my pocket.
“What's going on?” Sam asks.
“Have you heard from Dean?” I ask.
“No,” he says. “Emma, what's going on?”
“When Dean and I followed Millie and saw her talking to that man on the side of the road….” I start.
“Yeah,” he nods.
“That was him. Rod Jennings is Millie's brother.”
“But that means…”
“So is Sterling Jennings,” I complete the sentence.
I'm running out to the parking lot when I see Dean pull in. He drives up beside me and rolls down his window.
“I found it,” he says. “I'm sure.”
“Let's go,” I say.
“Where are you going?” Sam asks.
“I need you to stay here,” I tell him. “I need you; I need to be able to call you and know you're here. Do you understand?”
“Emma, tell me what you're doing,” he says.
“I can't,” I tell him. “I love you.”
“I love you too. Be safe.”
I climb into the car with Dean, and we speed into the darkness.
“Sterling Jennings is Millie's brother,” I tell him. “And the man we saw on the side of the road is Rod.”
“Shit,” he mutters.
“We have to move fast,” I say. “Did you find out anything else?”
“At the time Jennings was supposedly officiating the wedding, he was also presiding over a theft trial. And the license was issued on a day when Mason could not have been there to sign it. Debra, his ex, has video of him at their son's little league game, then at the team banquet. When I first started working the case for her, I remember her talking about that day. She said he looked so happy to be there and she thought it was so wonderful for their son. That's the last memory he has of his father.”
We drive for almost an hour, blazing through tiny back roads and finally ending up in an area so desolate it sends a chill down my spine. The last time I saw this place, it was during daylight, a hunch I had to follow. Now it was dark and what was beautiful farmland now looks foreboding.
“We should park here,” Dean says. “It's not too far.”
We get out of the car, and he leads me into the tall grass to one side of the road. It's not like walking through the corn stalks. It's softer, but I feel insects bouncing against me as they jump from blade to blade. We walk in silence, not knowing who might be around to hear us. Soon, a path opens up, leading us deeper across the field.
Ahead of us, I see the silhouette of the stark building against the sky. It was beautiful in the photograph I saw. Lakyn captured it with the afternoon sun shimmering down on an old steeple. But in moonlight, it's imposing.
“I looked through the pictures again,” Dean whispers as we approach the building. “The last one looked like a cellar door, so when I came here, that's what I looked for. And I found it. The only reason she would take a picture of it is if that's how she got inside. It was a record. She wanted to be able to describe it to Xavier so she could make sure she was doing what he needed her to.”
“How did he find out about this?” I ask.
“I don't know,” Dean says. “At some point, he must have met the right person. Or the wrong one.”
“Did you go inside?”
“Yes,” he says. “But just to make sure I could.”
“Show me,” I tell him.
“Emma, it's dangerous.”
“I know,” I tell him. “But I have to know. I have to see for myself.”
He nods, and we continue toward the building.
“It looks deserted. When I was leaving, there weren't any cars around. I think they only come out here for specific purposes.”
“It's not exactly the most convenient location,” I note.
We get to the door, and Dean and I slip inside. It reminds me of his description of breaking into the abandoned hospital outside of Feathered Nest, where he discovered my mother's medical records and completely shattered my understanding of my childhood.
This is different. This building was once abandoned.
