1
Wildhorse Heights, Texas
Death was near but Jenna Cooper was not aware.
No one was.
Like the thousands of other people at the Old Southern Glory Flea Market, in the southeastern part of the Dallas– Fort Worth Metroplex, she was hunting for bargains.
Jenna liked coming here. With more than nine hundred vendors in buildings and open-air sections spread over forty acres at the Hawn and LBJ freeways, Old Southern was one of the biggest flea markets in Texas.
Whatever Jenna needed, she could always find a deal on it.
“Can I make you an offer on these?”
Jenna touched the folded baby clothes she’d selected and piled on the vendor’s table. The fleece hoodie, the footed pajamas, a romper, T-shirts, bibs, the lace tops and the skorts, which were so cute.
The vendor was wearing a Cowboys ball cap, rose-tinted sunglasses and a T-shirt that read: Verna’s Clothes for Kids. Jenna guessed her to be in her late sixties.
“What’s your offer, dear?”
Jenna figured the clothes would cost fifty to sixty dollars if she were to buy them new. But the items, as tagged on the table, would run about thirty-five dollars. She was not very good at negotiating, but these days she had no choice. For her, Blake and the kids, money was an issue.
“Would you take twenty-five for all of them?”
The woman took stock of Jenna’s daughter, who was holding on to the stroller where her baby brother was waking up from a nap.
“How old are your little ones?” she asked, weighing Jenna’s offer.
“Cassie’s four, almost five, and her baby brother Caleb’s five months.”
“I bet they’re a handful.”
“They are.”
“All right, dear, for you and your angels, twenty-five.”
“Thank you.” Jenna handed her the cash from her wallet.
While the vendor rummaged under the table for a bag, the old transistor radio hanging from her wooden sign that also read Verna’s Clothes for Kids, crackled faintly with an updated weather report.
But few people were listening about the possible tornado watch.
The sky was overcast with flashes of lightning on the horizon. It was hot and humid. Jenna pressed the back of her hand to her moist forehead then checked on Caleb. He was going to be hungry and she’d have to find a place to feed him. She gave Cassie a sip of bottled water, intending to finish shopping and get home before it rained.
“Your little girl’s beautiful.”
Jenna’s attention shifted to the end of the table, where another woman had stopped browsing to pay her the compliment. She was about Jenna’s age, mid-twenties, with short spiky red hair and a nice smile.
“Thank you,” Jenna said.
“And—” the stranger nodded to the stroller “—I overheard, your baby boy’s five months old?”
“Yes.” Jenna beamed.
“May I?” The woman stepped closer, lowering herself to Caleb’s stroller. “Oh, he’s brand-new! What a sweetheart!”
“Here’s your bag,” the vendor said to Jenna.
“Thanks.” She reached out for it.
“Who