Page 31 of Savannah Heat

“But why didn’t you trust me enough to let me help you or try to help, anyway?”

“I couldn’t think like that, Jenna. I felt depleted and exhausted, no good to anyone. I was crushed because I failed everyone. I just couldn’t let you see me that way. I just couldn’t bear to see myself through your eyes. It would have killed me.”

Jenna wanted to touch his face and run her fingers through his hair more than anything. But she couldn’t. Her voice cracked, but she got it out. “All right, I guess I do forgive you.”

“Remind me to thank you properly later.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You know, I never did find out who sold me out at the NYPD. Someone told Sal Amato about the investigation long before the FBI got involved in the case, after my dad died.”

Jenna shook her head. “Oh no, don’t go there right now. One thing at a time. Let’s shut this person or persons down first, and then we can go tackle the NYPD rat.”

“We?”

Jenna gave him a big smile. “I assumed since we both are going back to New York City after this, we should have a joint project. Oh, look, it’s Brock—and Harper, deep in conversation. And yes, she brought another dress. Odd to bring one’s wardrobe to a party.”

Dan suppressed a grin but raised his eyebrows. “You did say Brock was impressed with her. I think they make a cute couple.”

“Really, Dan. Ah, they’ve seen us. Here they come.” Jenna took a sip of wine from the glass she forgot she was holding. “We should be back inside, not out here. Let’s drift back that way before they know we’ve seen them.”

“I need to keep an eye on Gail and Sal. Where did they get to?” Dan whispered.

Jenna shrugged and turned to go. “I’m going in to make sure Marta Roseland is doing okay. They’ve seen us together. Good luck.” Jenna gave Brock and Harper a smile and a wave as they approached, but she went inside, leaving Dan to deal with the two. She heard Harper’s horse-laugh but didn’t turn to see what was going on. Instead, she made her way toward Marta Roseland.

The noise level in the room rose, and that meant more people had come in or those already there had been drinking more. Jenna found Marta in the corner with Lizbeth Ames, a columnist for The Atlanta Journal, and Eva Shore, the editor for The Savannah News.

“Hi, Jenna, don’t you look like a million in that dress,” Lizbeth said.

“Thank you, and it’s nice to see you here. It’s been what, two years?”

“Since Miami, I think. Speaking of that, there’s a handsome editor down there who was asking about you on a zoom call last week. He wanted to know if you were still single. What should I tell him?”

Jenna laughed and held up her left hand to Lizbeth. “Guilty—but not looking right now.”

“Don’t you hear that biological clock, at all? Or is that just some myth the baby doctors started?”

Marta chuckled. “Really, Lizbeth, you do get personal. Boundaries are a wonderful thing, my dear.”

“It’s okay, Marta. Jenna and I have a few secrets, right?”

Jenna laughed. “Right, yes we do have a few secrets, and no, I hear no clock. I think my clock is broken, my friend.”

Marta shook her head. “Oh, you two are making me sad.”

“Who’s that long-legged blonde woman with the loud laugh, Jenna? Do you know?” Lizbeth nodded toward Harper who came into view.

Jenna shrugged. “Harper something or the other— ex-model turned photographer, turned idle rich, world traveler, or something like that. She’s a friend of a friend. I don’t really know her.”

Lizbeth elbowed Marta in the side. “OMG, here she comes.”

“This is where all the important ladies hang out, is it?” Harper asked, her perfume arriving a few seconds before she did.

Jenna saw Marta recoil. Whether from the perfume or Harper’s loud voice, she wasn’t sure. Lizbeth seemed amused, but not annoyed.

Lizbeth, giving Harper an unapologetic once-over, sat back. “Yes, we are the circle to join. And who might you be?”

Jenna saw Marta try to hide her smile. She knew Lizbeth put Harper in her place with only those few words. They didn’t know her, so she wasn’t important—that was the message they were sending Harper. Welcome to the South. Lizbeth and Marta were a credit to the Southern, steel magnolia-woman myth if ever one had lived.

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