her that anything was possible, so right now they were approaching this suspect carefully. It was entirely possible this girl was somehow connected to the earlier assault.
Stepping carefully, Jenna approached the edge of the shed. Leaning against the wooden structure, she listened intently.
Crickets chirped; tree frogs belched. But she didn’t hear any telltale sign that someone was hiding there.
Had Griff made a mistake? Unlikely, despite the fact they were all human. Griff was one of the best cops she knew, tough yet fair. She’d been thrilled when he’d hired her to join his team. She inched closer to the edge of the shed and peered around the corner.
At first she didn’t see anything amiss. Then she realized there was a slim figure crouched beside a woodpile. The teenager was curled up in a tight ball, as if trying to make herself invisible.
Jenna didn’t think the teen was armed, but there was no point in taking any chances. Griff poked his head around the opposite corner, and she gave him a quick hand signal, indicating their quarry was there.
“Police,” Jenna said, stepping around the corner and leveling her weapon at the figure hiding beside the woodpile. “Hold your hands up where I can see them.”
From the corner of her eye she noticed Griff came out to join her. She kept her gaze on the small figure, relieved when two pale, slender hands slowly rose above the teen’s head.
“Are you Jenna Reed?” the girl asked in a shaky voice.
Jenna blinked in surprise. How on earth did this girl know her name? “Yes. Stand up and keep your hands in the air.”
The teen did as she was told.
It wasn’t easy to make out the girl’s facial features in the darkness, but there was no mistaking the long blond hair framing her face. “Who are you?” Jenna asked, perplexed. She didn’t know her neighbors other than on a casual basis. Did this girl live somewhere nearby?
“M-my name—is—Cl-Claire.”
It took Jenna a minute to realize the kid was shivering. From fear or the chill in the air—considering she wasn’t wearing any sort of jacket over her ripped T-shirt—or both. The C engraved on the bracelet flashed in her mind. “What’s your last name?”
“Towne.”
“Do you have any weapons on you?” Jenna asked. “Drugs? Anything illegal?”
“N-no.” The girl’s thin arms began to droop with exhaustion. Griff was armed and Jenna wasn’t sensing an immediate threat, so she holstered her weapon and stepped forward to pat the girl down.
Claire was excruciatingly thin, reminding Jenna of the girls who often showed up at Ruth’s shelter. There was a small, nondescript cell phone in one pocket, and when Jenna moved over to the other side and patted the pocket, she heard a crinkling noise. “What’s that?” she asked, dipping her fingers inside to pull out what she suspected might be a baggie containing drugs.
“N-newspaper.” Claire’s thin voice levered up an octave when Jenna pulled it free. “It’s mine. Give it back!”
The burst of anger ironically made Jenna feel better. The girl might be down to her last few dollars, but she was still fighting, which meant she hadn’t given up.
Jenna pulled out the paper, realizing it was a newspaper clipping folded over several times to make it small enough to fit in Claire’s pocket. When she opened it, Jenna instantly recognized the picture of herself wearing her dress uniform as she stood in front of a crowd, thanking everyone in attendance for the donations to Ruth’s shelter. She remembered that night well, because city leaders had made a big deal of her role in the recent Brookmont arrests. The article was dated just two months ago.
Well, this explained how Claire Towne knew who she was. But there were still too many questions for her peace of mind. “Did you lose a bracelet?”
“Yes. Did you find it?” Claire’s earnest face lit up at the possibility.
Jenna glanced at Griff, who was standing there with a deep frown furrowing his brow. He shrugged his shoulder as if telling her to go with her gut.
“I have it at my place.” Jenna reached out to lightly grasp Claire’s arm. “Come on. We need to get you out of the cold.”
Claire hesitated, casting furtive glances in Griff’s direction. Was the teen afraid of him?
“This is Lieutenant Vaughn, my boss,” Jenna said, hoping to put Claire at ease. “Don’t worry. We’re not going to hurt you.”
Claire’s head snapped up and her fingers curled into fists. “I’m eighteen, old enough to be on my own.”
“Okay,” Jenna said mildly. The girl didn’t look a day over sixteen. Although it could be that she looked younger in the dark because she was thin and scared.
Jenna had the distinct feeling this kid was a runaway. Although it was a mystery as to why Claire had a picture of Jenna tucked away in her back pocket.
“Do you think this is a good idea?” Griff asked in a low voice as they crossed the neighbors’ lawns to head back to her place. “What if she’s acting as a lure for the assailant?”
Jenna sighed, knowing he was right to be wary. But there was no way she could turn her back on this half-starved, frightened and shivering teenager. “That’s why you’re here to stand guard,” she murmured.
Griff didn’t say anything more, but he did move closer, so much so that she could feel the warmth radiating off his skin. She couldn’t deny she was glad he was there. The teenager didn’t say anything as they walked, but looked dejected, as if running away had sapped her strength.
As they rounded the corner of the house, Jenna slowed to a stop, realizing that she hadn’t locked the front door behind her. If Griff’s theory was right, the assailant could be hiding somewhere inside.
“Wait here,” Jenna said, putting a hand on Griff’s arm. “I need to make sure no one is inside.”
“Don’t leave me,” Claire pleaded, grabbing the edge of Jenna’s denim jacket.
“I’ll go,” Griff said. “She trusts you more.”
That was obviously true. Jenna gave a terse nod, putting her arm around Claire’s thin shoulders.
Griff headed inside, and the minute they were alone, the girl turned to Jenna. “Please, you have to help me.”
Jenna was taken aback by her desperate plea. “What’s wrong? Are you in trouble?”
“Yes. I need help and you’re the only one I can trust. Just you, no one else. I’m so glad you’re all right.”
All right? Had this girl witnessed the attack? “Claire, be honest with me. Were you here earlier? Did you see that man try to grab me?”
Claire’s features crumpled, and she buried her face in her hands. “Yes. I’m sorry. When that man showed up I ran away, intending to get help. But then I heard someone yell, ‘Stop! Police,’ so I hid in the bushes.”
