Page 24 of In Her Wake
Jenna checked her phone for Liza’s address again, then turned onto a narrow road that wound away from the main street.The houses here were set far apart, many with detached workshops in their yards.She slowed as she approached the number she was looking for: a modest clapboard house with a separate structure behind it that she thought must be Liza’s studio.
As she pulled into the gravel driveway, Jenna realized she’d never actually visited Liza since she moved to Gildner five years ago.Their friendship had been maintained through occasional texts, rare phone calls, and those brief encounters at Trentville events.The recognition left her feeling oddly hollow.
Jenna parked beside Liza's silver Prius—the same one Frank had described seeing at the Twilight Inn, and that Jenna herself had seen at the Powells' house—and approached the front door.Light spilled from the house windows, and she could see that lights were on in the outbuilding, too.She took a deep breath and rang the doorbell.
Moments later, the door swung open.Liza stood in the threshold, dressed in splattered overalls with her dark hair piled messily atop her head.Streaks of what looked like clay dust smudged her forearms, and a fleck of dried plaster clung to her cheek.Her eyes widened with surprise.
“Jenna?”The single word held layers of questions.
“Hi, Liza,” Jenna replied, maintaining the neutral expression she’d perfected over years of interrogations.“Mind if I come in?”
Liza stepped aside, confusion evident.“Of course, but...I’ve been working in my studio, obviously.I could have missed you if I hadn’t just come back into the house.But what brings you all the way out here?Is there something new about the case?”
Jenna entered the house, taking in the eclectic space that perfectly reflected its owner.Art covered every wall—paintings, prints, textile pieces, a collage of creativity.The furniture was mismatched but deliberately so, each piece apparently chosen for character rather than cohesion.
Liza’s own sculptures claimed any available floor space between furniture.A metal deer with elongated limbs stood frozen mid-leap beside the coffee table.Bronze human torsos emerged from the floor near a chair like shipwreck survivors from dark water.A pack of small wolves with exaggerated teeth prowled past a window.Jenna found Liza’s work both beautiful and somewhat disturbing.
“The case?”she turned back to answer Liza’s question.“Maybe.I’m confused about why you were seen in the Twilight Inn parking lot this morning.”
“Whoever said that must be mistaken,” Liza replied, her tone carefully light.“I was here all morning, working on my commission.”
“It was Frank Doyle, Liza, and Frank doesn’t make those kinds of mistakes.He recognized you.Said you ducked your head when he waved, like you were trying to avoid him.”
Liza crossed her arms over her chest, a defensive posture Jenna had seen countless times in the interview room.“I don’t know what to tell you.It wasn’t me.”
“He saw your Prius too,” Jenna added quietly.“With all the bumper stickers.”
“There must be other silver Priuses with bumper stickers in Missouri,” Liza countered, but the argument sounded weak, even to Jenna’s somewhat sympathetic ears.
“Why does it even matter where I was this morning?”Liza suddenly asked, with a note of defiance.“What does that have to do with Marjory’s disappearance?”
“It matters because you didn’t tell me you were in Trentville today when I called you about the mannequin,” Jenna said, holding Liza’s gaze.“You led me to believe you were driving over from Gildner, not that you were already in town.”
"I did drive from Gildner," Liza insisted."You saw me when I arrived at the Powells', Jenna.I was covered in clay dust and plaster, exactly like I am now."She gestured to her work-stained clothes."Obviously, I came straight from my studio."
“Then explain how Frank saw you at the Twilight Inn this morning.”
The two women stared at each other across Liza’s living room, the years of friendship suddenly feeling fragile between them.Jenna watched as Liza’s shoulders slumped slightly, resignation crossing her features.
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”Liza asked.
“You know I can’t.”
Liza sighed, then moved to a worn leather armchair and sank into it.“Fine.I was at the Twilight Inn this morning.”She met Jenna’s eyes.“I’ve been having an affair with Chester Callen.We meet there sometimes.”
The admission hit Jenna like a physical blow.“Chester?And you?”She shook her head in disbelief.“But he and Norma—”
“Have been married since high school, I know.”Liza’s voice held no apology, just weary acknowledgment.“They’re Trentville’s perfect couple, right?High school sweethearts living their fairy tale.”
“Then why—”
“Because appearances can be deceiving, Jenna.”Liza’s eyes hardened slightly.“You of all people should know that, given what you do for a living.How many seemingly perfect homes have you been called to for domestic disputes?How many upstanding citizens have you arrested for things their neighbors would never believe?”
Jenna couldn’t argue with that.Her years in law enforcement had taught her that the face people showed the world often masked ugly truths.
“So you were meeting Chester at the Twilight Inn,” Jenna said, returning to the facts.“Then what?”
“Then I drove back to Gildner to work in my studio.When you called about the mannequin, I drove back to Trentville again.”Liza’s explanation was matter-of-fact.“That’s why I looked like this when I arrived at the Powells’.I really had been working with clay.”
