The Devil Casts a Long Shadow- Chapter Fifteen: Don't Come to Me...

Jena had spent the remainder of the summer seething over her situation. She felt like she had been stuck between a rock and a hard place more than anyone should have to bear. Time, though, carried on. Nate's second anniversary was coming to pass. Jena had been avoiding seeing him or much of anyone else, for that matter. She was waiting out this storm, but it certainly began to linger. Many days alone she waited for Tiki to return; she thought she might have heard him in the forest near her home on a few occasions, but she could never be sure. She missed him, but also knew he had better things to do than wilt in a cage. She tended to stay at her home, rarely going out. Especially after she lost her job at the daycare. Jena assumed she'd be replaced slowly because her hours were cut shorter every shift, but in the end, she was the one to quit. Jena had only so much room for foolishness in her life, and that space was filled to the brim already with all that was going on in her life. She clocked out after a particularly trying day and never clocked in again. Jena was ready to settle into her role in the life she never wanted. She was ready to take the loss and brood over her crippled expectations. That was until the tipping point finally arrived.

It started with a voicemail from the social worker who had been on the original child endangerment case for Mickey-Moon. Jena had been outside in her garden that morning, tending to the overgrown privacy hedges. Jena came in to take a break and sift through a pile of mail she had been neglecting. She had her phone on speaker as she quietly snacked on a sandwich from the deli that she had delivered the day before. Mrs. Bekemeire's message left her shaken."Hi, this is Gail Bekemeire. We need to talk about Tiger Blood's death when you get a chance. Call me back. Thank you." Jena hoped it was a mistake and that Mrs. Bekemeire was speaking of Mickey-Moon's death. Jena was unable to continue with her mundane tasks until this confusion was cleared up. She immediately called Bekemeire back. She picked up while Jena was leaving a voicemail. "Jena?" Bekemeire asked. Jena responded, "I got your message, but you said Tiger Blood, not Mickey who died. Are they reopening the case?" Bekemeire realized then that Jena had not heard the bad news. "Hon, I'm sorry to be the one to tell you, but Tiger Blood died. It was reported last Tuesday, but the coroner's office has already reached out to me because it's very suspicious. They think he had been dead for at least a day before he was brought into the hospital out there." Jena was floored; she tried to ask a follow-up question, but her thoughts were swirling to speak.

Mrs. Bekemeire did her best to fill Jena in on the details. "I talked to the sheriff in their county, and he's been coordinating with ours. I thought they had called you by now." Jena faintly replied, "No, no one has said a word...not even my mother. I guess it makes sense. They barely cared enough to have a funeral for Mickey. " Bekemeire, with sympathy in her voice, reminded, "I'd keep your phone close by because they want to hear what you know. No one in that house is cooperating." Jena sighed, "They won't. They've been shutting out everyone, especially me. I doubt the boys will talk either. God knows what threats Beau and Thallea are giving them. Not that they are there most days, anyway." Bekemeire, obviously wanting to exit the conversation, finished with, "I'm sorry to have been the one to break the news to you. I'll tell the sheriff to contact you. He might think one of his officers already had. Stay strong. This wasn't your fault." Jena said her goodbyes, but couldn't help but feel like this had been everyone's fault, including her own. She put down her phone as if holding it was the worst weight she had ever had and put her head on the tabletop, too sad to move for a moment. She was too sad even to cry.

Mrs. Bekemire was right. Shortly after, the Sheriff's office had a detective meet with her at the police station in the county where Beau lived. That was where Tiger Blood had died. Thallea had reported Tiger Blood as being left in the family truck with the motor running for a few hours and dying of heat stroke, but her story didn't check out. Upon examination, Tiger Blood had died of dehydration. All signs indicated that he had been in his car seat for an extended period, possibly days. The poor boy had been strapped in and left to rot. Jena's eyes welled up at the tragic details of that innocent boy's death. "Did you hear anything before that would lead you to believe that the child was in immediate danger?" The detective asked. It snapped Jena back to the conversation. She answered, "Thallea had sent a few text messages a couple of weeks ago wanting to stay with me again. She said she was coming off of 'maternity leave', but I ignored it because I know that she had been fired back when Mikey died." Jena kept to herself that Turner had been livid that Thallea had stolen a work truck and showed up at his home one too many times. However, Turner's name was never to be mentioned to the police. It went without saying.

Jena filled in what little information she had, explaining that she could only be so helpful because her family had disowned her for speaking out against the twins' parents in court when Mickey died. The detective let her go after an hour, saying, "It happens more than you think. These people know what they are doing and will be quick to cut off anyone who might intervene. By the looks of it, your brother and his wife are going to be booked on premeditated murder charges." Jena had so much to say, but nothing mattered. She left the interview feeling like there had been so many times that anyone in a position of authority could have done something, but didn't. She thought to herself how flawed these processes were. None of the blaming would bring back those babies. Jena was glad Tawny had held on for as long as she did to make sure the boys she had with Beau were self-sufficient, or they likely would have met the same dreadful end as their younger brothers.

On her way back to her house, Jena went into damage control mode. She remembered how much difficulty it was for her to scrape by when Amber Coates died, and wanted to use the knowledge from her past mistakes to her advantage. She stopped at the grocery store to pick up a decent-sized haul to hold her over for this new fiasco she feared she would somehow be the face of. Jena hoped she'd go unnoticed as a further embattled social piraya because the news of Tiger Blood's had not been made public yet. As she walked the aisles topping off her cart, Turner and Roman both were calling her on repeat and hanging up before leaving a voicemail. Jena didn't let that make her hurry. She was beyond her once knee-jerk reactions with those two from how numb she felt by the events she was emersed in. She was more mentally checked out now than she ever had been. It was as if the world had already burst into flames, with her standing on the ashes, but it was the rest of those around her who were just noticing the cinders beginning to form. Jena unchantly put her groceries in her car when she was finished, not saying a word to anyone and avoiding all eye contact.

Then she started back to her barndominium. The Bluetooth in her car answered Roman's call automatically, much to her chagrin. Before Jena could greet him he shouted, "You better, get your ass to Turner's. Now!" Then hung up. Next, Turner called Jena. This call she picked up on her own: "Hey, Jena, can you come over, right now?" Jena pictured Turner on the other end of the line, combing his greasy hair and scratching his oozing back acne as he spoke. No amount of money or power that he accumulated would ever make her view him as anything other than Nate's gross high school plug. Jena would get no peace from them if she continued to be evasive. She told Turner, "Roman already called me. I'm on my way. Do you want to tell me what this is about?" Turner replied, "It's just a thing we gotta have handled. I'll see you soon."

Jena pulled up the the house that she was starting to feel like she might as well have a dedicated room at. Roman was waiting at the window. She knew he saw her because he looked like he was yelling swear words at her through the glass. For some reason, this made her wish Nate were there so she could let him know why she was so angry that all of his actions always caused her trouble. She would never have known those people had it not been for him. She felt as if he had left her in dire straits and was always gone to leave her to pick up the pieces when it was time to reap the consequences. As she thought about how angry she was with Nate, she also realized how illogical it was to be mad at a man who had been gone for years. Nate had ruined his own life. She needed to acknowledge that was where things stood. There was nothing to be done to undo it. It could not be helped.

Roman swung open the door for Jena. "Can't you value anyone's time but your own?!" He snipped at her. Roman was perpetually agitated. Jena wished she could say something rude back to him, but Roman was a petty, hateful man who had significantly more power than her in this life. Turner breezed in, still wearing his work clothes. He had come from the back hallway, probably just out of his bedroom. He was getting off the phone with someone. "Later, tomorrow, not today. I'm booked." Jena had overheard him say as he strolled in. Roman piped down long enough for him to finish.

Roman would never speak to Turner the way he did to Jena. She wasn't sure if it was out of greed or fear that he exercised that restraint. When Turner was finished, he handed Jena a mixed drink of cognac from a decanter set from his mini bar. Jena reluctantly took it. She cautiously sipped at it as if she had accepted a drink from the devil himself. There was a different feel to things. She was fully aware she was sitting in a trap, but this time around, there was something more ominous about how Turner was acting that Jena found to be considerably more off-putting than usual with these two. She couldn't put her finger on it exactly, but she did get a sense that this time Turner was the one making the decisions, and not watching Roman do his dirty work for him. Jena didn't like it at all. She felt very unsafe.

Roman stepped back to fill his cup as Turner spoke to Jena. He began, "We have a problem. Your brother's wife named me in a statement today, and he backed her story." Jena mumbled, "he will for anything she does." Roman went to berate her for speaking, but Turner put his hand up to steady him. "This is going to be big. With Nate overdosing with that girl, plus last summer with the other baby. Let's just say, I can't make this go away." Jena uncomfortably spoke out of turn from the recognition that she was somehow being blamed, "Thallea has an obsession with you. I think she doesn't like Beau at all, but he keeps doubling down for her. I can't make them do anything. Believe me, I tried."

Joel sat down on his coffee table across from Jena. Jena felt like a bug being crushed under a microscope. Roman stood behind Jena, who was trying not to take up space on the sofa. "Hey, Jena, we're old friends. You don't need to worry. Haven't I looked out for you with Nate gone? I only need you to get our girl here to see what she's up to. That's all." Roman now spoke, "We need to talk to her. The sooner the better, before charges can be filed." Jena thought for a little bit, Turner finished her thought out loud, "Take her with you to see Nate. I'll come too. Tonight." Jena stumbled in her speech, "They live hours away, and the cops are already getting the charges ready. I'm sure her calls are being traced, and mine." Roman tossed a burner phone into Jena's lap from his pocket. "I already told her to meet you at highway marker 87. There's a blue Cadillac on the side of the road if you walk to the bike path behind this house. Now get the fuck out of here." Jena understood Roman had set her up again. She questioned, "What about my car?" Roman rolled his eyes. "Leave it! You're having an affair with Turner. For fuck's sake, figure it out." Roman pushed her off the couch. Jena, on her feet, went for the door as fast as her legs would take her. Joel followed behind her.

Jena looked back at Turner as they walked through the pitch-dark night in silence. He said nothing. As Roman explained, there was a car with blacked-out tinted windows obscured by the greenery surrounding it. Joel had Jena take the wheel while he did a bump of cocaine off the back of his hand from a mirror case he pulled out of his pocket. They drove using only the parking lights on the old back highway, which Jena used to dodge traffic cops. By the time they were out of city limits, Joel had had at least two more cocaine bumps. Each time Turner reached into his leather blazer to grab his mirror case, Jena saw the metallic reflection from his pistol that was tucked away in a holster. She hoped that Thallea wouldn't be at the meeting spot. Of course, she was, though. By then, Turner's nose was starting to bleed. She ran into the car without so much as looking who was in it. Jena took off into the shadows, knowing fully well someone was going to die.