Jenny felt her heartbeat pick up as the doctor swabbed the inside of her cheek.
“This town hasn’t been easy, though,” Dr. Reynard said. “Seems like nobody wants to tell me why two hundred people got together at the town square on Sunday night.”
Jenny’s hands grasped each other tighter.
“I just need a quick hair sample.” The doctor clipped a few of Jenny’s hairs and dropped them into a test tube. “I tell you what, it’s like nobody wants us to figure anything out. Any idea why that is?” Dr. Reynard looked intently into Jenny’s eyes.
“It’s a strange town,” Seth said. Jenny nodded.
“Do you two know anything?”
Jenny and Seth stayed quiet.
“Hm. Well, I’m going to need a blood sample, and I’ll let you go.” Dr. Reynard looked at Jenny’s folded hands. “Isn’t it a little warm for gloves?”
“I just like them,” Jenny said. She hated how small and pathetic her voice sounded.
Jenny peeled off a glove and watched the doctor swab her fingertip with alcohol and prick it with a little sharp-tipped tube, which slowly filled with Jenny’s dark red blood. That’s it, Jenny thought as Dr. Reynard sealed the sample inside another test tube. All my secrets are yours.
“The only thing anybody will talk about is witchcraft,” Dr. Reynard said. “Why are people so interested in that around here?” She looked closely at Jenny.
“I don’t know,” Jenny said. “I don’t really go to church.”
“No thoughts?” Dr. Reynard asked. “Do you have any idea what happened on the town green?”
Jenny shook her head. “Are we done?”
Dr. Reynard changed out her disposable gloves for a fresh pair. She’d even brought a small container where she could stuff the used ones. She winked at Seth. “Your turn.”
While she’d taken a lot of time with Jenny, her testing and sampling of Seth was quick and efficient. She didn’t seem very interested in him at all, Jenny thought. Which meant she was very interested in Jenny. That worried her.
Dr. Reynard thanked them and packed up her bag.
“Do you have any questions?” the doctor asked, smiling at Jenny again.
“When do we get our results?” Jenny asked.
“Results?”
“From the tests,” Jenny said.
“Oh.” Dr. Reynard looked puzzled. “We aren’t really getting back to individuals unless we find something unusual. So, no news is good news. Is there something you’re concerned about?”
Jenny shook her head.
“Anything you want to ask me? Or tell me?”
Jenny looked down at her own shoelaces.
“If you change your mind, call me.” Dr. Reynard gave Jenny a business card. She offered one to Seth, too, but he turned it down, so Dr. Reynard laid it on the coffee table. “I’m in charge of the investigation.”
“Okay,” Jenny said.
Dr. Reynard turned toward the front door, and the Homeland Security officer pivoted to accompany her out.
“Oh, one more thing.” Dr. Reynard turned to face Jenny. “It’s a little bit of a strange thing. Several people told me they saw you drown in a pond on Sunday night. Over at the Goodling residence. Any idea why people are telling me that?”
Jenny didn’t know what to say.
“They must be confused,” Seth said, but Jenny didn’t think his comment helped anything.
“Were you at the Goodling house Sunday night?” Dr. Reynard asked. “Or at the town square?”
Jenny wasn’t sure what to say. The woman seemed trustworthy, but a lot of people seemed that way. And the Homeland Security guy didn’t seem like he would be very sympathetic.
“No,” Jenny said. “We were home.”
Dr. Reynard studied her, then gave a quick nod.
“Okay,” Dr. Reynard said. “Thanks so much for your cooperation today. Jenny, get in touch any time.”
Jenny watched the doctor and the uniformed man leave her house. She closed and locked the front door as they pulled away.
“I am so screwed,” Jenny said, leaning against Seth.
“You said you wanted someone to study you.”
“But this could be really bad. I don’t know what to do. What should I even expect?”
Seth held her tight. He didn’t have any answers, but at least he was warm.
Chapter Fourteen
Tommy loved the open road, with the Harley roaring beneath him and infinite blue space before him. Oklahoma was very flat, which made for dull scenery, but it really let you open up the throttle.
Using the fear inside him, he’d mugged somebody in Evans, just outside of Augusta—a man in a suit who was able to withdraw six hundred dollars at the ATM. He’d bought a black motorcycle helmet to avoid getting pulled over. Considering he was an escaped prisoner riding a semi-stolen bike, it would be stupid to get busted on a minor helmet law. He could usually deal with a lone police officer just fine, but it was always risky, and he didn’t want the hassle.