Mystery Writing Challenge

A challenge was put to me by a long time friend. A weekly 500 or  fewer word mystery story. Foolish (probably) or not I agreed.

Thus my first effort. Reader, Be kind.

Persistent ringing of the phone. Number unknown. She knew it was Jake.  Had he bought a cheap throw-away? Persistent ringing of the doorbell. She knew it was Jake. He had sworn he would never give up.

Kendra Cochran, fresh from a hostile breakup with Jake swore at each phone call and each doorbell ring. Would he never accept it was over?

The doorbell rang. She buried her head under a pillow. "Miss Cochran, a voice penetrated the room. "Miss Cochran, Police. We know you're in there."

Kendra opened the door. An overweight, red faced, middle aged man in uniform, a size too small stood next to a younger trim, short haired,  make-upless woman.

"Do you know Jake Harris?"
"Yes."
"When did you last see him?"
"Four days ago."
"Have you heard from him since?"
"Everyday. several times everyday. Why?"
"Today?"
"Yes." Their raised brows prompted her to say. "I don't know for sure. My phone rings. My door bell rings. I think it's Jake. He is relentless."
"Miss Cochran, Jake is dead. We found his body yesterday. He had your name and address in his pocket."

Dead. Jake was dead. He could not be dead. He kept calling her. She opened her mouth to speak. Nothing came forth. The policewoman's hand rested on Kendra's arm. Their eyes met. "Can we come in?"

The details were few. Jake's car went off the road, over an embankment, into a ravine. Dead on impact. But Jake had no car. He never had a car-- unnecessary in the city he said, Buses and trains went everywhere; the environment deserved it, he said. "But Jake doesn't have a car."

"Last night he seems to have had a car."

"Where did it ---"

"About ten miles outside the city on Rte 214. He had an address on an index card. . Carol St in Sommersville. Ever hear of that?"

Kendra closed her eyes, shook her head and finally said, "Jake's ex lives in Sommersville."

"Ex wife?"

""No wife-- an ex live in. Five years ago, I think."

"Janice Belden, by any chance?"

Kendra's eyes widened. "Yes,' she whispered.

The police woman's smile looked to Kendra menacing. "Her name was also on the index card. Can you think of any reason why?" Kendra stared into space. "Can you think of any reason why he would have both your names on that card?  Can you think of any reason he might want to kill her?"

Kendra's body froze. The policewoman  led her to the sofa. "Are you all right?"

Kendra sucked in her breath. In a barely audible whisper she asked, "Janice is dead?" The police said nothing. "And Jake is dead?" She fell silent.

The overweight policeman said, "And you are alive, Miss Cochran, thanks to a lethal accident."

The phone rang. Kendra jumped, smiled weakly and answered. "No Jake does not live here anymore."