CA 50.7 Little Girl Lost Read Free Page B

did some fierce glaring himself. "I at least expected you to be civil if not reasonable."
    "How did you find me?" She bit back the slew of curses she wanted to hurl at him. They'd done enough of that already. "Better yet, why did you find me?"
    "Your mother called. She said you had found her again."
    Fury blasted away any thread of composure Jenna had been clinging to. "First, my mother has no idea where I am, so that makes you a liar. Second, if you've got someone following me again, that's called stalking. What I do is none of your business."
    He fished his cell phone from the front right pocket of his jeans. A few taps with his thumb and his call list was on the screen. "Six-thirty this morning. That's your mom's number, is it not?"
    How could her mother have known? Jenna had told no one. She had packed a bag and driven away, leaving L.A. in her rearview mirror. Her utilities had been paid. She never stayed at any job for long anymore, so that shouldn't have been a surprise to anyone. Why would her mother care where she'd gone? The last exchange they'd had had been even uglier than Jenna's last exchange with this man. Anger tightened her lips. Her soon-to-be-ex.
    "I decided it was time for a change of scenery." She bit her lips together and looked anywhere but at his face.
    She and Paul had been married for twelve years. He knew her better than she knew herself. He could spot a lie in a heartbeat. There was little she could do about him being here, but the last thing she wanted was to spur his suspicions.
    He glanced around the shabby living area. "And you just happened to pick here? From the looks of the neighborhood, you've decided to live on the edge."
    Her SUV might not be rusty or beat-up but it was old enough to fit in with the junky rides dotting the street on this block. If he was still driving that fancy sports car, his definitely did not. The only people who drove high-end vehicles in this neighborhood were the pimps and the dealers. Her neighbors likely thought her visitor was one or both.
    "As we've already established, how I live is none of your business." However, her mother had found out where Jenna was, and if she had any inkling as to what Jenna was doing and told Paul...there would be trouble. He had sworn that if she repeated last year's fiasco he and her mother would take drastic measures. Fourteen days in a private sanitarium apparently wasn't drastic enough.
    Jenna hugged herself a little tighter. She was not crazy. Her daughter was alive and here in Huntsville, Alabama. This time Jenna was sure. All she had to do was get her hands on proof. A single hair for DNA testing would provide the official results, but that would take time. Prints wouldn't work because they had none for comparison.
    Who takes their three-year-old's prints? Most parents didn't end up doing that until their child started preschool. But if Jenna could get close enough.. .she wouldn't need any DNA test. Sophie took a fall when she was two. It would've been harmless, but the drinking glass left on the patio had broken her fall. She had a scar on her upper thigh from more than half a dozen stitches. Jenna had berated herself a thousand times over about that accident. She had stared at the scar a million times. Seven years had likely changed the color and size to some degree, but there would be a scar.
    "Jenna." Paul touched her arm. She trembled, unable to suppress the reaction. Those blue eyes of his—the same ones she had looked into this afternoon in that damned institute—searched hers. "Please let me help you."
    Fury obliterated any softer emotions that had crept in beneath her defenses. "Go back to Chicago, Paul. Back to that hotshot Colby Agency where you work and pretend that it doesn't bother you that you and all their resources couldn't find our daughter." The ache exploded inside her. How could he come here and pretend to know what was best?
    He had given up!
    Paul reached for her again, and she backed away.
    "Six