“No,” he said easily. “It’s fine.”
“Anyway, Jody got up at five. I was a bit slower getting out of bed, but by the time she was tucking her headphones in her ears, I had ventured in here for coffee.” His gaze swung over to the sink. “She gave me a kiss on the cheek, said she’d be back in an hour, and practically bounced out the door. She’s a morning person,” he explained. “Me, not so much.”
“So she left at the same time she does every day?”
“Yes. She’s meticulous about her schedule. She has to be out the door by five twenty so she’ll be back by six twenty. I leave for work at seven and she likes to have the kids downstairs by then, so she starts breakfast as soon as she walks in the door.” His gaze shifted to the back door. “Only today, she didn’t walk in the door.”
“Has she ever run an errand after? Maybe she needed something from the grocery store.”
“Her car’s here,” he said as though Baz was an idiot. “She doesn’t drive to the lake, says she enjoys the scenic route out of the neighborhood.”
Baz considered how long it had taken to get here, figured she must have cut through somewhere. “Are there walking trails in this neighborhood?”
Mr. Henderson nodded. “All three neighborhoods connect by some trails that were put in about a decade ago. They lead directly to the lake. That’s the route Jody takes every day.”
“Does she have a runnin’ partner? Maybe someone she goes with on occasion?” Trey suggested.
“No. Jody likes to be alone. I even offered to start jogging with her but she told me that was her time.” His eyes glistened with unshed tears.
Baz still had a million questions, and unfortunately, he knew this wasn’t going to get any easier.
Not for Mr. Henderson.
Or his missing wife.Chapter Thirteen“How’d you fare?” Brantley asked when Reese returned to the SUV after they’d completed their door knocks.
“Nothin’. Two houses, no one answered, no cars in the driveway. One, the woman said she works the night shift, didn’t get home until after seven. The last one, a little old couple invited me in for coffee cake. I politely declined, and they assured me they hadn’t been outside yet today. No one has cameras directed that way, if they have them at all. You get anything?”
“Nope.” Brantley relaxed against the seat, resting his hands on the steering wheel. “Trey messaged me, said they’re still talkin’ to the husband, tryin’ to get a list of her friends.”
“Gotta start somewhere. In the meantime, I think lunch is in order,” Reese said with a heavy exhale. “Give us some time to talk, pool our thoughts, and hear what the husband had to say.”
The mere mention of food had Brantley’s stomach rumbling. “Let me know where we’re goin’, then text Trey and have ’em meet us there when they’re done.”
Brantley drove, his thoughts scattered. This was always the daunting part of the investigation. Where to begin when there was someone out there, possibly injured, scared, fighting for their life. The thought of taking time for lunch felt like abandonment on his part. He could still remember the time he spent during that op gone sideways. Alone in that room beneath the house in the middle of a hot zone. Right before the place caved in on him. He’d feared his team wouldn’t come, wouldn’t be able to reach him. They hadn’t known where he was, if he was even alive, yet he’d held out hope that someone would make the effort. He never should’ve doubted because they wouldn’t leave a man behind.
What was Jody Henderson thinking? That she prayed her husband went looking? That he called the police? Surely she knew he would. Based on the minimal information Trey had relayed, Dale Henderson was beside himself with fear.
“There’s an all-you-can-eat buffet just down the road,” Reese said from beside him.
Brantley glanced over. “Hmm?”
“Lunch.”
Oh, right. Lunch. All you can eat.
“About two miles down on the left,” Reese directed, then began tapping out a text on his phone.
While Reese was still texting, Brantley’s cell phone rang. He hit the button on the steering wheel to take the call through the speakers.
“Hey, JJ,” he greeted.
“Y’all find anything yet?”
Brantley hated to dash the hope in her voice, but he answered with a glum, “No.”
“Well, I’ve been doin’ some research on my end,” she explained. “I pulled together the details of the women Detective Collins said were missing. Did a side-by-side comparison.”
“We already know they look nothing alike,” he told her.
“No, they don’t. And that’s not all that’s different. In fact, the only similarity is the proximity to the lake that they lived. Same general area. Anyway, as you know, Jody Henderson’s a stay-at-home mom.”
“Yes.”
“She’s thirty-two, married, with six kids,” she continued.
Beside him, Reese was writing down the information she was rattling off.
