Part 21 (1/2)
She didn't make it in today. We've had that happen a lot but I didn't think Marcia would be a no-show. The woman, Jan according to her name tag, nudged the employee next to her, then pointed at the tablet and raised an eyebrow. The man, short and round, blinked at the message before adding to it.
Have you checked with Kendall? I think she's usually at their house this time of day, at least when Marcia's at work.
”Kendall? That's probably our Ken,” sent Jemma, and Jack sent back a wave of agreement.
Haven't yet, he typed. We'll check there after we look around a bit. Thanks!
Jack waved jovially at the greeters and then took Jemma's hand and led her further into the store.
”We should look around some,” he sent.
”Right. Trying to look normal, two people on a date,” she responded, and he nodded, slowing his pace and letting her lead them to the communications section, which was much larger than it had been the last time she'd been in the store.
”So, think we should go check out her house after all? See if Kendall's there, if she knows anything?” sent Jack.
”Seems like the logical course of action. Is there a way we can make it less conspicuous? Visiting Marcia's workplace the same day as she disappeared is already a stretch.” Jemma ran a hand through her hair and stopped under a display of headsets labeled, AS SEEN IN BEST BUY!
Jack sent a mental sigh. ”Can't think of anything. They're not taking people who investigate, though, right? Reporters aren't going missing, just those of us who can Talk further. We found out who she was online, and we found out who to ask about her here. It still doesn't look great, but if we decide to do it,” he paused, turning to meet her eyes, ”it could be worse.”
Jemma watched Jack a moment before dropping her eyes to their still-joined hands. He rubbed his thumb along hers once, twice before she made a decision.
”Let's do it,” she sent, lifting her face toward his. ”I'm so tired of being watched and not having any idea who is doing it. Marcia found out who we were somehow, which means she had more information than we do. We have to try it.”
A grin spread across Jack's face. ”I know I should probably be serious right now and all that,” he sent, ”but I like it when you put your foot down. You get scary-librarian face.” An undercurrent of teasing affection softened any negativity Jemma may have gotten from his words.
She felt her mouth pull up to one side. ”That's what Jilly calls it.” She took a breath, and her attempt at a smile ceased. ”I'm just tired of this. I'm tired of being nervous, I'm tired of pretending, and I'm tired of having this conversation. Let's just...” She closed her eyes and shook her head before looking back up at Jack. ”Whatever it takes, okay? I'm not saying we should go out of our way to get caught, but I need...”
”You like goals and lists, not gray areas.” Jack was watching her, and though their connection lacked the emotional feedback Jemma had gotten used to receiving while he spoke, his eyes were sparkling again.
”Right. So I think we should-”
”How may I help you today?”
Jemma jumped, releasing Jack's hand and bringing her own to her chest before she registered the jovial voice as sounding minimally electronic. The employee who'd approached them blinked, then gave a polite smile and held a small tablet out for typing. Jemma shook her head, and Jack followed suit, letting her feel a bit of surprise, annoyance, and adrenaline. She felt better that she hadn't been the only one startled. After the employee nodded and walked away, Jemma turned back to Jack, who smiled wryly.
”And we're sure we don't want to just play it safe?”
She maintained eye contact as she reviewed their options again. Playing it safe didn't really seem to translate into staying safe; it just meant staying in the dark.
”I'm sure,” she sent finally. ”Are you?”
His smile softened into something a bit more genuine, and he nodded. ”I'm sure.”
”Then let's go get something to eat and then see whether Kendall is up for visitors. Food court or Steak 'n Shake?” Jemma took Jack's hand and laced her fingers through his as they made their way out of the store.
”Let's do the one with the milkshakes and swing by my house before we investigate,” sent Jack with a tendril of amus.e.m.e.nt at his word choice.
”Sounds like a plan,” sent Jemma, blinking as they stepped back out into the light.
”Stop here.”
Jemma complied with Jack's silent request, pulling the car to the side of the road and parking just behind a rusty pickup truck. About half a block ahead of them was the street on which Marcia and Kendall lived, and Jemma stared down it as far as she could. The neighborhood was quiet, a few kids running barefoot along the sidewalk. Cars were rusted, some on cinder blocks, but one or more vehicles were present at each house. The houses themselves were old but seemed st.u.r.dy, whether from original construction or regular maintenance unclear. A few roofs were visibly patched, a sight that wasn't too uncommon in any part of the hurricane-p.r.o.ne city.
Jemma checked her side mirror for traffic and then opened her door, closing it behind her and wincing at the noise. A few dogs started barking, and Jemma closed her eyes, opening them again when she heard Jack's door shut, too.
”I forget that animals can still make noise,” she sent, and Jack nodded.
”It can be jarring. I'd thought about getting a dog for Dad, but he said the noise would give him a heart attack.” Jack's grin was a bit off-center, amus.e.m.e.nt tinged with clear realization that his father's words might not have been as much of a joke as they should have been. He ran a hand through his hair, then jerked his head in the direction they needed to go. ”Ready?”
Jemma rubbed her shoulder and nodded, joining him on the sidewalk. They clasped hands, just a couple out for a walk, enjoying the nice, evening weather.
”So, any reason you don't have a cat?” sent Jack.
Jemma looked over at him, seeing his eyes scanning their path, alert in contrast to shoulders he kept low, to the thumb he was running absently along hers once more.
”Why would I have a cat?” she sent with a wave of surprise.
”You just seem like maybe you should have a cat. You've mentioned you like them, you own your home, and you don't have a roommate who might object.” He gripped her hand more tightly for a moment as they made the turn onto Marcia's street. ”Just sort of expected you to have one.”
”I like cats fine,” said Jemma, pausing to check street numbers and count which house they were heading for. It was on their side of the street, and she could see the driveway, but most of the house was obscured by its neighbors. ”I haven't been on my own for too long, not somewhere I could have a pet. Besides, Jilly already likes to tease me that I'm gonna be the crazy cat lady, living alone, working in a library, never doing anything, you know?”
”You're nothing like that stereotype,” sent Jack, mental tone firm. He let mild amus.e.m.e.nt show through, and she broke her stare to glance at him, seeing a grin on his face. ”Besides, 'never doing anything'? We're here on a covert mission, investigating.” He waggled his eyebrows, and she felt a hint of smile forming despite herself.
Before she could respond, a splash of color drew her attention back to their surroundings, and she paused, Jack following suit. The house they were looking for was a bright purple, with colorful accents. The yard was manicured, flowers neatly surrounding the house.
”Well,” sent Jack, ”that's not exactly what I'd pictured.”
Jemma sent a wave of acknowledgment. ”Do we... I mean, do we look around, or do we just go right up to the door and knock?”
”Knock, I think. We've still got at least an hour before sunset. That makes sneaking a bit trickier than it needs to be.”
”Good point.” Jemma rubbed her shoulder again, then let go of Jack's hand, running hers along her upper arm, feeling the need to be in control of as much as of the situation as was possible. She took a deep breath and continued down the sidewalk, branching off to approach the house, walking along the empty driveway toward the bright white door that had a pink flower painted in the center. The windows facing the front of the house were covered by thick curtains, drawn tightly closed. Jack by her side, Jemma took one last breath in front of the door before she raised her hand and knocked.
There was no response. After several seconds, Jack reached forward and rang the bell, his other hand twitching slightly at the noise.
Nothing happened. For a moment, Jemma opened her mouth to shout for Kendall, then closed it again. She felt a wave of understanding from Jack.
”I almost tried to yell, too,” he sent. ”Maybe she isn't home.”
Jemma looked to her left just in time to see a curtain fall back into place.
”She's here. She was at the window.” Jemma knocked again, harder. If they couldn't talk to this woman, where would they go next? How could they find out how to keep themselves from being taken, let alone find out what had happened to Marcia? They'd made it pretty obvious they were looking, coming here to this house; what if they disappeared before they could do anything else reckless? What if- There was a loud crash from inside the house. Jack looked at her, then tried the k.n.o.b, looking unsurprised when it was locked.
”Let's try the back. We don't know if she's hurt or if...” He trailed off, sending worry and frustration.
They walked quickly to the unfenced backyard, and Jemma knocked on the sliding gla.s.s door and then tried to open it.