When Twilight Comes - By B. J. Daniels Page 0,34

her new friend everything that had happened.

Even now she wondered why she’d done that, knowing how dangerous it was to talk to anyone.

But Rose had been so supportive and such a good listener. And Jenna had thought she’d never see her again.

As it was, she’d run into her on a half-dozen occasions. Rose had encouraged her to go to the police with what she knew, to try to put Lorenzo behind bars. Jenna had assured her she knew nothing about Lorenzo’s business affairs, and shuddered at the thought of what her ex-husband would have done if she’d gone to the authorities.

“He has some of the police on his payroll,” Jenna had told her.

Rose had been shocked and wanted to know who.

“I don’t know. I just know that when I went to the police when he ignored the court’s orders, nothing happened.”

“He thinks he’s above the law, but he’s not,” Rose had argued.

Jenna had laughed. “He is above the law. His power extends far beyond the police, believe me. He’s a ruthless man who destroys anyone who gets in his way.”

“Let me help you,” Rose had insisted, pressing a piece of paper with her cell phone number on it into Jenna’s hand.

Jenna had hidden the number in her purse, but she’d never called. No one understood just how dangerous Lorenzo Dante was. And she didn’t want to drag anyone else into this.

Her other new friend was her neighbor, Charlene Palmer. She’d met Charlene one day after Lorenzo had broken the restraining order and come by, making loud threats and breaking things. Fortunately, Lexi had been in an afternoon preschool program up the street.

Charlene had come over right after Lorenzo left, and had asked if she could help. The walls were thin; she’d obviously heard everything.

Charlene was a large, soft woman with a kind face. She’d given Jenna a hug, gone into the kitchen and poured them both diet colas, then sat down and said, “Talk to me, honey. That bastard who was just here—your ex, right?” She hadn’t waited for an answer. She’d just started telling Jenna about her own ex, who she said was doing time in prison.

Jenna had worried at first about befriending Charlene. Not that Charlene would have any reason to know who Lorenzo was. It wasn’t as if he’d ever been arrested for his crimes and gotten his picture in the paper. And Jenna had rented the apartment in her maiden name, McDonald.

It seemed safe to talk to a woman who seemed to actually understand because she’d been in her shoes.

And Jenna liked Charlene. The woman had survived misfortune, was easygoing, had an attitude Jenna admired.

It had been Charlene’s idea to keep Jenna’s spare apartment key. “Honey, I had a husband like your ex. He beat me up so bad one night…” Tears had welled in Charlene’s eyes. She’d brushed at them angrily. “Thank God I’d given my apartment key to a friend who lived next door. She waited until my old man left, then came over and took me to the hospital. I would have bled to death on the floor if she hadn’t had a key. In our neighborhood you didn’t call the cops. And you couldn’t afford an ambulance.”

The story had chilled Jenna. Lorenzo was capable of hurting her. Hurting her badly.

Jenna knew that either woman would help her. She pulled out her purse.

She dialed a number. It rang once, twice, three times. Jenna started to hang up, suddenly afraid she’d picked the wrong person to trust.

CHARLENE PALMER HAD HER feet up on the coffee table, a bag of potato chips on one side of her and a box of cookies on the other. She’d just poured herself a large glass of diet cola and had settled in to watch her favorite soap. Life was good.

Her cell phone rang in her purse on the other side of the room. She eyed it suspiciously. It rang again. She swore softly. Her show was just starting, and when the phone rang it was never good news.

It rang a third time. And she had the oddest feeling that she should answer it. She shoved herself up from the couch and launched herself across the room, snatching up her purse, digging deep and coming up with the phone as it rang a fourth time.

“Yeah?” She was out of breath, heart pounding from the exertion of just crossing the room.

Plus it always spooked her a little when she got one of those “feelings.” Her Grandmother Tyler believed she could