Free Forbidden Entry by Sylvia Nobel

inside. “I’m going to file what I’ve got in the morning, but I’m going to be out of the office all next week with my family here, so if anything new develops, can you follow up with Walter?”
    He gave me a two-fingered salute. “Will do.” I was in the process of closing the door when he added, “And, Kendall?”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œIf by any chance you find anything of interest, you’ll be sure to let me know, right?” Even though the light was low, I didn’t miss the unmistakable gleam of skepticism reflected in his steady gaze.
    I grinned. “What makes you say that? I told you I’m not going to be working this story.”
    Humor sparkled in his eyes. “Just asking.”
    It was no secret that I thrived on breaking a provocative story, and this one was packed full of more questions than answers, but as much as I yearned to follow up on my mounting suspicion that there might be more to the situation than met the eye, it wasn’t going to happen this time. Tally’s sage words, ‘You can’t have them all,’ rang in my ears. “Night, Marshall.”
    When I returned to the motel lobby, Duane Potts was crossing to the front door. “Sorry about that, Kendall. Sometimes duty calls,” he said, shoving some papers into a folder. “I have a few minutes now.”
    â€œNo worries. I think I got what I need from Marshall for the moment, but as you get more details, I’d appreciate you keeping me in the loop.”
    He stopped close enough for me to get a whiff of his cloying aftershave. “I’m always happy to help you out with anything you might need.” His intimate, insinuating smile was combined with his signature tongue click. “And you know where to find me.”
    Good grief. It took all my willpower to bite back a cutting remark. “Thanks, Duane.”
    When the door closed behind him, it suddenly seemed deathly quiet standing there alone in the small lobby listening to the solitary ticking of the clock behind the desk. Mentally bracing myself, I crossed to the office and rapped gently on the doorframe. “Okay if I come in for a minute?”
    Both women looked up, their red-rimmed eyes moist with tears, the tips of their noses bright pink, piles of used tissues scattered on the couch and floor beside them. Heavy-hearted, I bent down to embrace Marcelene. I could only wonder at the sheer enormity of her grief, having lost first her husband and now her only daughter within a year’s time. “I don’t know what to say except I am so terribly sorry,” I whispered, patting her bony shoulders.
    â€œThank you, Kendall.” She grabbed for more tissues.
    I took a seat beside Ginger and folded her hand in mine. “Are you going to be okay?” Her face was so pale the maze of freckles sprinkled across her nose and cheeks stood out in sharp relief. I had never seen her look so distraught, so utterly crestfallen.
    â€œWhat can I say?” she sniffed. “I’m alive and kickin’ an’ Jenessa ain’t.”
    Marcelene dabbed the corners of her eyes. “All I want is my baby girl back. I can’t believe she’s gone, that I’ll never see her again, never hold her, never hear her laugh…” Choking with anguish, her voice cracked and, when I tried to swallow, it felt like a cold, sharp-edged rock was lodged in my throat. Realizing there was really nothing I could do or say to soften such a horrendous loss left me with an overwhelming sense of helplessness.
    Ginger honked loudly into a wad of tissues. “I just can’t reconcile them two kids being so dang stupid. What were they thinkin’?” She stared at me blankly as if I had the answer. With both of them in shock, I had no intention of pressing for additional information, but Ginger’s remark appeared to have caught Marcelene’s attention and she leveled me a curious