26

Val (Gianna)

Feeling sluggish from lack of sleep, I took my time making breakfast. I kept it simple—a toasted bagel with cream cheese and a bowl of mixed berries. Sitting at the kitchen table, I thumbed through a magazine as I ate, hoping the mindless content of the pages would be a distraction from the crazy dream I had.

It didn’t work, so I decided to head over The Mill and jump on one of the ellipticals. The gym would be quiet this time of the day. The early risers would be gone, ensuring an elliptical would be available for me to use. Derek usually took Sundays off, which would allow me a bit of solitude during my workout. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see him, I just hoped a good, sweat-drenching routine without any distractions would help clear my head.

Thirty minutes later, my feet pushed through the final stride on the elliptical, and the sweat I’d been in search of dripped down the side of my face. I slowed my pace, grabbed the towel I had draped over the front of the machine, and wiped the sweat away. As I allowed my muscles to cool down, I turned my attention to one of the flat-screen televisions lining the wall in front of me. A twenty-four-hour news channel showed a picture of a man in a lab coat—a doctor I presumed. But it wasn’t the picture of the doctor that caught my attention. It was the caption at the bottom of the screen.

DOMESTIC ABUSE WARNING SIGNS PRECEDED NEW YORK MURDER-SUICIDE

Stepping off the elliptical, I walked over to the television and turned up the volume so I could hear the news reporter over the music playing through the overhead speakers.

“A two-day nationwide manhunt for Dr. Thomas Jenkins has come to an end after his body was found in a ravine near his home with a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head. Ballistics confirmed it was the same gun that killed thirty-one-year-old Julia Wheeler.”

Images of a pretty blonde filled the television.

“Wheeler worked as a nurse at the Central New York General Hospital, the same hospital where Jenkins was the attending surgeon. According to friends, the two had been romantically involved until Wheeler broke it off a year prior. Hospital CCTV footage shows Jenkins luring Wheeler into a stairwell on Wednesday morning, where he shot her multiple times in the head and upper body. Wheeler was found after witnesses reported hearing shots just after nine a.m.”

More images of the girl floated across the screen. I narrowed my eyes to look at her more closely. To the average person, she appeared to have been a happy woman, but I saw something else. There was a sadness in her eyes that was all too familiar—the same kind of sadness I saw in the bathroom mirror every single morning.

“Wheeler’s friends have stated the relationship she shared with the prominent surgeon was abusive. He allegedly stalked her and once held her captive in her home, wielding a gun. Wheeler had lived with Jenkins but left him because she believed he was having an affair with another woman. Jenkins refused to move on and put a global positioning system tracking device on her car to keep track of her movements. After Wheeler discovered the device, she filed a police report and tried to get an order of protection. Friends say Wheeler was dismissed by law enforcement officials despite the fact there had been several documented cases of abuse from Jenkins’ ex-wife. Wheeler’s friends believe the police ignored her complaints because Jenkins is the brother of the newly elected county sheriff. Channel 4 has reached out to the sheriff’s office but they have so far declined to give a statement.”

“Of course they covered up for their own! And now, a girl is dead because of it!” I ranted to no one in particular and shook my head in disgust.

Ignoring the curious glances thrown my way from a few nearby gym patrons, I scooped up my belongings and stormed back to my apartment. I was shaken and furious for the woman who was killed. Her story hit too close to home—it could have very easily been mine.

When I reached my apartment, I closed and barricaded the door. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I stared at the ceiling and went over all the precautions I had in place to ensure my safety, questioning if I was doing enough to protect myself. I was still afraid, and I hated that fact—hated the constant feeling of looking over my shoulder. Perhaps it was paranoia over the toothpaste incident last night, my nightmare, or the upsetting news I saw on the television about a girl I didn’t even know—whatever it was had me pulling out my cell phone from the pocket of my sweatshirt.

“Nat,” I said into the phone after my friend picked up.

“Hey, you! I didn’t expect to hear from you today because you said you were low on minutes. How did the date go? I need all the tea!”

“The date was great—and yes, I am low on minutes. I’ll have to fill you in later as promised. Right now, I just need a favor.”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“I need you or Teddy to take a drive by my old house.”

Natalia fell silent for the span of three heartbeats before speaking again.

“Um…for what?” I could already hear the alarm in her tone so I hesitated with my explanation of why I wanted her to do this.

“I need you to see if Ethan is there. I mean, I don’t want you to go knocking on the door or anything. Just check to see if his car is there, lights are on…stuff like that.”

“Did something happen? Do you think he’s—”

“Everything is fine, Nat. It’s probably nothing. I just had this weird dream last night, then I saw this thing on the news about a girl… I don’t know. Call me crazy, but I just need you to do this so I can chill the fuck out.”

“Are you sure that’s the only reason?”

“I’m sure.”

“Alright, alright. If it makes you feel better, I’ll drive by sometime this week.”

“Thanks, Nat. It’s just so I can maintain sanity and nothing else. I promise.”

At least I hoped it wasn’t more than that.