Hidden behind the screen, Elizabeth observes Alaric Saltzman slouching in the chair whilst Wilson fires a multitude of questions. "What is your relationship with Jenna Sommers?"
Saltzman just folds his arms and says nothing, angering her colleague. He slaps the thick bundle of photographs down on the wooden table and spread them out. "Were you stalking Elena Gilbert?"
Saltzman stares defiantly at Wilson and then he looks straight into the screen, his jaw taut and rigid, back ramrod straight against the chair as he replies stiffly, "You won't believe me anyway."
She observes his body language for a bit longer before turning her attention to the other stranger piece of evidence that they had managed to discover in his home and even more stowed away in the school. There were an assortment of wooden stakes, a compact device most likely invented by Saltzman himself that allows the wearer to fire sharp pointy stakes at a short distance, and some homemade grenades filled with green liquid.
Just how did he know about the town's situation?
Gilbert household
Elena bit back another moan that was about to spring from the base of her throat as his hand slid her flimsy, thin cotton panties down her thighs. She squirmed uncomfortably on her stomach whilst she lay prone over his lap; both of her hands pressed against the classroom floor to steady herself. She swallowed a whimper as his hard dick poked her belly through the tent of his pants. A lone teardrop seeped out from the corner of her eye and it splashed onto the ground silently. She felt ashamed and dirty as his words washing over her half-exposed body before feeling his thick, greedy fingers penetrating her roughly.
"Fuck! Elena, you're so tight," he groaned and began thrusting. Her back arched involuntarily at his fingers finger pressing against her insides at all the right spots. Gradually, he increased his speed at the response to her shallow gasps and hitches.
"Moan for me, Elena. I know you want more. Don't try to deny it. I can feel your slicked cunt leaking," he teased and continued tormenting her helpless body. She felt a sharp piercing, intense pain at the exact moment as his fingers twisted so abruptly and jabbed cruelly into her core that she came screaming.
-A-
A short, high-pitched scream shatters Jenna's concentration that it simultaneously wakes her up from her slouched position on the tall bar stool in the kitchen cum dining area. Another sharp piercing scream follows a couple of minutes after, sending her into a panicked frenzy as she races out of the kitchen, nearly toppling the bar stool in her wake.
Elena!
She climbs the stairs two at a time until she reaches the closed door of Elena's bedroom where the screams resonated from. She flings the bedroom door open and flips the light switch on immediately, taking quick long strides to reach the edge of the bed. Her hands reach out to Elena who is tossing restlessly in bed.
"Elena? Elena, wake up."
Jenna glides her hands up and down Elena's shaking shoulders and arms. She repeats again, her voice increasing in volume. "Elena, honey. You're having a bad dream. I need you to wake up now."
A blink later and she finds herself with a fistful of brown hair in her face, a pair of slender arms clinging tightly around her neck, and a sudden surge of heat that was not her own, crashing into her. She falls onto the edge of the mattress thankfully; her arm encircles around Elena's waist while the other rubs her back in a poor attempt to sooth her niece. The first thing Jenna feels is Elena's back radiating a slightly elevated heat and the back of her neck feels a lot warmer. Her hand comes around and presses the back of her hand against Elena's moist forehead.
She knows John had tailed her from the moment she had raced out of the hallway and was most likely leaning against the doorway. With the additional weight added on top of her lap, Jenna could only turn her head slightly to find him staring at them rather uncomfortably.
"Elena has a fever. Could you buy some fever medicine off the counter?" She asks whilst continuing to rub her niece's back. She takes note of Elena's quiet sobbing into her shoulder and thinks of brewing a pot of chicken broth, but she can't move, not with Elena clinging to her. She yells after John who had grunted out a reply and had begun to trudge down the stairs. "And get Elena some hot soup at the Grill while you're at it."
At the station, Interrogation Room 01
Elizabeth enters the room with a bottle of water and a thick manila folder. She places the bottle in front of Saltzman and takes the seat opposite him. Saltzman cocks his head at her in acknowledgment and smirks. "You know you can't hold me forever. You have no physical proof but circumstantial evidence."
She counters it with a thin smile gracing her blank expression and flips open the manila folder. "Did you kill Isobel Fleming? Says here she filed a restraining order against you," Elizabeth pulls out a photocopy of the original restraining order for him to look. "Were you stalking her like you did with Elena Gilbert?"
"Where… Where did you get this?" Saltzman's confident expression falters as he leans forward in his seat to read the contents of the paper.
"Oh, the North Carolina local police were quite happy to hand the case over in hopes a fresh pair of eyes would help narrow down the suspects… not that there was much to go on, with a large pool of blood and that you were the only person who saw her last."
Elizabeth knows she has thrown him for a loop when she begins grilling him about his alleged missing wife; she doesn't fail to notice the tiny beads of sweat forming on his forehead or the way his Adam's apple bobs nervously when he swallows. He slams his palm against the table and runs his fingers through his already disheveled hair.
"I'm telling you the truth. I loved Isobel; I wouldn't kill her," Saltzman states adamantly.
Elizabeth leans back in her seat and replies coolly, "But you're hiding something. What brings you to Mystic Falls?"
Gilbert household
At some point, Elena releases Jenna from the vice-like hold and murmurs apologetically at the sizable wet spot on Jenna's shirt. She grabs a handful of tissues and offers them to Elena who takes them gratefully. She gathers the pillows together and fluffs them up, whilst giving Elena a moment to recover. She sits at the edge and waits patiently for Elena to lean back against the pillows. She takes note of an odd discoloration on Elena's neck and wonders if it's the same friend Elena refuses to speak to her. It sounds as though her niece was protecting someone or was told to keep quiet about it.
"Did this friend of yours do this to you, 'Lena?" She just had to inquire if this friend was the same person who persuaded Elena to skip an entire day of classes and brought her back home just after curfew. If it was, that friend was most likely a bad influence for her niece.
Elena just shakes her head and refuses to meet her eyes. Her forehead wrinkles in concern as her hand rubs Elena's knee that was under the heavy duvet.
"So… it's someone else," Jenna murmurs.
"I'm sorry if I worried you," Elena hiccups through her quiet apology. Jenna shushes her quietly and replies, "I'm not mad, Elena. I just want to understand what happened. I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth about your birth mother. Your mother was supposed to break it to you when you were older."
She hears the bedroom door swing open with a creak and frowns when Elena's fingers tighten onto the ends of the duvet until the tips of her knuckles turn to a palest shade of white. Her head turns to find John enter, carrying a tray filled with a bowl of steaming hot, chicken noodle soup, a tall glass of water, and a bag with a bottle of medicine. He sets the tray on top of the study desk and then passes Jenna the bowl of hot soup carefully. She smiles and thanks him gratefully. He exits the room just as quickly as he enters.
The soup smells so heavenly that she can't resist stealing a couple of spoonfuls for herself to try, before passing the bowl to Elena. When she refuses, Jenna coaxes sweetly, "Just take a bit, 'Lena. You don't have to finish it all."
She sends a warm, encouraging smile to Elena who tentatively begins to take a few spoonfuls.
At the station, Interrogation Room 01
Elizabeth's brow arches when Saltzman informed her of his plans to start afresh in a new town. She flips a page over and replies nonchalantly, "Isobel used to study in Grove Hill High School, not too far away from here. I don't believe you're starting over. I think you're searching for something... or someone specifically." She catches an imperceptible glint in his gaze and adds, "And if you wanted to, you could have moved to the west coast or out of the country."
"And what does the Sheriff think I'm looking for?"
Elizabeth tilts her head and gives him a good long look. Silence fills the enclosed space as he fixates his inquisitive stare straight at hers. "You know the murderer who killed your wife. You think he is here, walking free and you want to avenge her."
Saltzman leans back in the chair and doesn't say anything for a long moment. She finds herself being placed under a microscope to be analyzed. His arms unfold and uncross themselves while his fists uncurl loosely as they come together and begins to clap deliberately, its volume increasing at each contact. He gives her a mocking, calculative smirk and replies, "You got me."
She should feel accomplished, rest-assured that she has solved one part of the puzzle, but tension lingers and pools uncomfortably in her gut. Her investigation had barely begun as more questions arise and she yearns to know how he thinks he knows the perpetrator is among them. Where did he obtain the information from? Why does he have a whole bag filled with homemade grenades and wooden stakes that looked as though he was preparing for war?
Nothing made any sense so she figures their conversation has reached a conclusion despite gleaning incomplete truths from the suspect. She begins shuffling photographic evidence back into the folder. A quick glance towards Saltzman tells her that she is still being studied and it irks her to no end.
Elizabeth stands up from the chair that she had been sitting in for over an hour and a half and makes to turn the brass door knob and leave Saltzman to contemplate his situation. She thought of getting another cup of coffee and going into the observation room to try and piece together the scarce information she'd learned.
"What if I told you the murderer happens to be the very person you're currently consulting with, regarding the vampire problem?"
His next words startle her out of her musings as her head whips around so quickly that she might as well give herself a whiplash. "What are you talking about?" She questions him sharply.
"I'd watch your back, Sheriff. Damon Salvatore is not the man you think he is," Saltzman leans back in his chair as he lazily smirks.
Gilbert household
A polished empty bowl and a near empty glass of warm water are placed back onto the tray as Jenna helps Elena settle back down on the bed. She smooths any stray strands from Elena's feverish forehead and prepares to tuck the duvet into her side securely. However, her wrist is captured by Elena's, halting her action temporarily.
"Stay. Please," Elena pleads and Jenna finds the tiniest bit of fear behind the wide hazel irises and it pains her that Jenna finds herself acquiescing to Elena's request. She grabs a random novel on the bookshelf before moving around to the other side of the bed. As she leans her back against some of the pillow throws, she feels a shift in the mattress as Elena moves to scoot closer.
She makes headway only into the first quarter of the novel when she begins to feel a slight tugging on her right arm that pauses her reading. She looks over to Elena who is still awake and apparently fighting the drowsy effects. Jenna throws a quizzical smile to Elena and lets her palm spread open, facing upwards. Elena begins tracing random lines with her index finger on her palm.
Initially, Jenna thinks Elena just wants some physical contact and continues reading while turning the page with her other hand. Slowly, she begins to realize Elena keeps drawing the same lines over and over again as though she was trying to tell her something without saying anything. It didn't feel random and that causes Jenna to stop reading altogether and start to pay attention to the tracing.
Was it numbers? Number 45? But the second symbol feels more squiggly… like an S. It's not a number. Letters then, Jenna decides firmly. She felt certain they were initials. Something S. Is Elena trying to say it was Damon Salvatore? But the first letter didn't feel or come close to a letter D. It was an upside-down letter V but towards the end, the tracing curves upwards and strikes left, crossing one of the vertical lines.
Jenna attempts to mimic the tracings in the air, but she couldn't quite decipher the first letter… or was it a symbol? It feels like a triangular shape but she can't be sure, and she can't ask Elena to confirm if they are even initials or symbols. Her finger lay still on Jenna's palm while her eyelids flutter shut and eventually, her breathing evens out.
A/N: Aye, it's one of my shorter chapters although realization just dawned upon me that the two men that have been accused of different reasons, both of their last names begin with a S. Coincidental or fate? Who knows. I hope you've enjoyed! Stay tuned to find out if Jenna will ever figure it out in the end… What will Liz Forbes do with the new found knowledge? (Oh and a big shout-out of Thank You to my fellow readers for reviewing. It's an incredible milestone to reach 50 reviews and having a total of 34 readers following!)