Page 7 of In Her Wake
“You’re certain those are her clothes?”
“Yes.”Harry nodded emphatically.“That’s her blazer, the one she calls her power suit.She wore it for important showings.That’s her blouse, her...everything.”
“Did you touch anything in the kitchen?”
“No.Well, not the...not that thing.I couldn’t.I called out for Marjory, checked the other rooms.Then I tried calling her cell phone.”
“And?”
“It went to voicemail.I called her office.Carol, the receptionist, said she’d been out showing properties all day.”
Jenna made notes as he spoke, though she was sure that Mike and Jake had already recorded most of these details.“Mr.Powell, what happened next?”
“I called 911.A few minutes later, before the police go here, the phone rang.It was Darla Fenwick, Marjory’s boss at Evergreen Realty.She wanted to know why Marjory hadn’t shown up for her three o’clock appointment at the Blackwell cottage.Said the clients had been waiting for twenty minutes.”
“And Marjory is usually punctual?”
“Always.Especially for showings.She’s the top agent at the firm.Never misses an appointment.”
Jenna leaned forward slightly.“Mr.Powell, I need to ask you something important.Do you know what Marjory was wearing when she left the house this morning?”
Harry’s brow furrowed.“I—I don’t know.I left for work after breakfast, around seven.She was still in her robe then, having coffee.I didn’t see her get dressed.”
“So it might have been these clothes or something different?”
“Could have been either.”
The answer settled heavily in Jenna’s mind.If the mannequin wore the clothes Marjory had put on that morning, it suggested something had happened to her after she’d dressed for work.If the mannequin had been dressed differently, that probably meant someone had gotten the clothes out of her wardrobe.In either case, someone had been able to create, or commission, an exact replica of her face.And that probably couldn’t have been done quickly, not with that kind of detail.
“Has Marjory received any threats recently?Any strange phone calls or emails?Anyone who might wish her harm?”
Harry shook his head.“No, nothing like that.She sells houses.Everyone loves her.”
“Any unusual clients?Anyone who seemed overly interested in her personally rather than professionally?”
“She didn’t mention anyone.”Harry’s voice cracked.“What’s happening?Where is my wife?”
Jenna wished she had an answer for him.Instead, she said, “We’re going to do everything we can to find her, Mr.Powell.But right now, I need to preserve that scene in your kitchen for our investigation.”
Horror crept into his tone.“You mean that thing is staying there?”
“Just until we can properly document everything and do a sweep for prints, any other clues that might be here in your house.We don’t want to miss any evidence.Is there somewhere you can stay tonight?A friend or family member’s house?”
Harry’s shoulders slumped further.“My brother Hosmer lives a few blocks away.I can stay with him.”
“That would be best.Officer Delgado will help you pack whatever you need and drive you there.”
Maria nodded, gentle but professional.“Just a few essentials, Mr.Powell.We’ll need to leave most of the house undisturbed.”
Jenna stood.“We’ll call you the moment we know anything about Marjory’s whereabouts.”
Harry allowed Maria to help him up, his movements slow.With her help, he collected a few necessities from the bathroom and bedroom.When he and Maria were on their way out of the house, he paused and turned back to Jenna.“Sheriff?You will find her, won’t you?”
She felt the weight of his hope—of his fear.She’d seen that same desperate hope in her mother’s eyes for twenty years.She didn’t make promises she couldn’t keep.
“We’re going to do everything possible,” she said instead.
After Maria had led Harry outside, Jenna returned to the kitchen.Jake and Mike had set up proper crime scene protocols now, markers placed around the room, Mike methodically photographing every angle of the mannequin.
