Kevin O'Brien - Disturbed

“Why would this Jenna person threaten me?” Rachel asked. “I didn’t have anything to do with her husband getting the ax at Chris’s high school. I wasn’t even living here at the time. Yet she was ready to burn my house down. I didn’t want to tell you, Molly, but I got another one of those calls yesterday, and that lady is crazy. Why would she pick on me?”

“Maybe it’s because you’re my friend,” Molly replied. She took another swig of water and sat up straighter. “I’m the one who first reported the incident with her husband and that poor student. Chris and I started it all. And look what happened. She made Chris an orphan.”

“And you think she was outside the church after the funeral?” Rachel asked.

“More than that,” Molly answered. “I think she was standing right in front of me when that woman rode by on the bicycle and called out to her.”

Rachel stared at her. “But the only people there were Jill, Natalie, and me.”

Molly nodded. She was thinking back to the day before Jeff died, when he’d come home from work, and the same group had gathered at the end of the driveway — Rachel, Jill, and Natalie. Jeff had been home so seldom that she’d had to introduce him to their neighbors. Then he’d acted so peculiar — to the point of rudeness. Was it because he already knew one of them — and he was having an affair with her?

One of the women in that group had spent the weekend with Jeff in Vancouver, British Columbia. She’d had another tryst with him in La Conner. And she’d poisoned him with drugs and alcohol in a hotel by the airport four days ago.

“So — you’re saying that Natalie or Jill— or me —one of us is really Jenna?” Rachel let out a stunned, little laugh. “Do you need to see my birth certificate?”

Molly quickly shook her head. “No, not you,” she said. “I think it’s Natalie. I’ve always had a weird feeling about her. And just seconds after that woman called out Jenna’s name, Natalie disappeared. I’d be surprised if Natalie shows her face again on this block. How much do we know about her anyway?”

At the same time, Molly couldn’t totally dismiss her other neighbor, Jill. There was something very sensual and earthy about her that might have appealed to Jeff. She was just about the right age to have been Ray Corson’s wife. And Molly remembered they had a young son. Was he around Darren’s age? Molly wasn’t sure.

She hated to even think it, but she couldn’t be one hundred percent sure about Rachel, either. But then that meant Rachel had set fire to her own toolshed and left herself that threatening voice mail, and sent herself the letter with the news clipping about Charlie. And even though the bicyclist had called out Jenna’s name — exposing her — there was Rachel at Molly’s bedside when she’d awoken.

“Don’t you think we should call the police?” she asked. “I mean, they should know about this Jenna person.”

Molly smiled a tiny bit and told herself that Jenna Corson would never have made such a suggestion.

“We can’t call the police, not yet.” She sighed, shaking her head. “You heard me trying to explain everything to Chet Blazevich the day before yesterday. He didn’t believe me — and hell, he likes me . No, before we go to the police, we need some solid proof that Jenna Corson is responsible for all these deaths and ‘accidents.’ We have to determine whether it’s Natalie or Jill behind all this.” Molly paused. “Listen to me with the ‘we this’ and ‘we that.’ I didn’t mean to be so presumptuous. You don’t have to be involved.”

Rachel reached over, took her hand. “Go ahead and presume, honey. I’m here for you. By the way, you’re finally getting some color in your cheeks. I’ll go see if I can find something edible for you down there. You stay put.”

“Thanks,” Molly said, working up a smile. She watched Rachel head for the door, and her smile waned. She had to know something. Molly waited until her new friend was in the doorway, and then she said in a quiet voice, “Jenna?”

Rachel stepped out to the hallway, then hesitated and glanced back at her. “Did you just say something?”

Molly quickly shook her head.

Rachel frowned at her. “Yes, you did. You said, ‘Jenna.’ ”

“I’m so sorry,” Molly replied, grimacing. “I just needed to be sure. . ”

Rachel sighed. “Listen, I’m suddenly not feeling so well myself. I think I’ll go home and lie down—”

“Please, Rachel, I’m sorry.” Molly started to climb off the bed. “That was stupid of me, I—”

“I’ll be sure to bring my driver’s license with me next time I come over, Molly,” she said. Then she turned and started down the hallway.

“Rachel, wait!” Molly heard her footsteps retreating down the stairs. She started to get up, but felt a head rush and quickly sat down on the bed again.

She heard the front door open and shut.

“Hello, you reached the Nguyens. We cannot come to the phone right now. But if you leave a message, we will be back to you.”

Molly listened to Mrs. Nguyen’s recorded voice. She had the Nguyens’ Denver phone number in her address book by the phone in her bedroom. She sat on the edge of her bed and waited until the beep sounded.

“Hi, Dr. and Mrs. Nguyen,” she said. “This is Molly Dennehy, your neighbor on Willow Tree Court. I need to ask you about Natalie, the woman who’s staying in your house. It’s very important. Could you call me—”

A click on the other end of the line interrupted her. “Hello?” Molly said.

“This Mrs. Nguyen,” she said, in her slightly fractured English. “Molly? What you talking about with a woman in our house? There’s no woman staying in our house.”

Molly hesitated. “Ah, actually, Mrs. Nguyen, there is,” she said. “A woman named Natalie has been staying at your house for the last two months—”

“What you mean?” Mrs. Nguyen interrupted. “No, house is empty. We have Todd to check every week. No one is living there now. We don’t know any Natalie.”

“Mrs. Nguyen, I’ve seen this woman coming and going into your house since September,” Molly said. “She’s a thin blonde in her late thirties — or early forties — and she goes by the name Natalie.”

“No, that not right. I call Todd to find out. It’s mistake. . ”

“Is it possible someone named Jenna is staying there? Jenna Corson?”

“No! Nobody staying there!” Mrs. Nguyen declared angrily.

“Would you mind if I called your friend, Todd, and talked to him? It’s very important I find out more about this woman.”

“One minute, please,” Mrs. Nguyen said.

“Yes, I’ll wait,” Molly replied. “Thank you.”

While Molly stayed on the line, she thought about how she’d hurt Rachel’s feelings earlier. Her only friend in the world, and she’d alienated her.

A part of her couldn’t help wondering if she was a little crazy or hormonal — or just in shock over Jeff’s death. This notion that Ray Corson’s widow had infiltrated the block in order to invoke some kind of revenge was pretty far-fetched. And it was all based on the fact that some woman had called out Jenna’s name to a crowd of people.

Now it didn’t seem so crazy. She kept thinking about the way Natalie had suddenly disappeared right after that.

Molly remembered Natalie jogging past her house when Angela’s murder had drawn a crowd of newspeople and gawkers. She’d jogged past Lynette’s house when Jeremy’s arrest brought the spectators and news crews back to the block a week later. Though from afar Natalie had seemed uninterested, Molly wondered if her neighbor had felt compelled to be out there at that particular time. Maybe she’d wanted to witness the fruits of her labors.