Page 21 of In Her Mind

Jason’s gaze shifted around the room before landing back on Jenna. “I went over to the college campus,” he started, his story unfolding in halting phrases. “Asked everyone I saw … about him … Liam Sweeney. It felt like a hundred people didn’t knowwho I was talking about until one guy admitted he knew him. I gave him a shake, and he pointed me to the student union.”

“And then?” Jenna prompted him. She observed Jason closely, her mind cataloging every micro-expression, every slight shift in his demeanor. She knew the importance of detail—the curve of a lip, the twitch of an eye could indicate deceit.

“Found him there, in the lounge, taking a break, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world,” Jason swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Called out his name. He looked up … stood up.

“Then what happened?” she pressed.

Jason’s fists clenched and unclenched. “Don’t you know that already?”

“We want to hear your version of the story,” Jenna said.

Jenna let the silence stretch for a moment longer than comfortable, observing as Jason wrestled with his own narrative. In his eyes, she sought the clues that might hint at guilt or innocence—a reflection of many past searches like this one.

Jason struggled to sit up, then groaned and leaned back against the cold concrete wall, his eyes hardening as he recounted the confrontation. “I walked up to Liam and hit him. Just like that,” he said, throwing a punch into the air for emphasis. “I didn’t even introduce myself. But why should I? He had to know what this was about.”

Jenna noted the bitterness expressed in his features. “And then?” she prompted again.

“Before I could land another blow, a couple of jocks grabbed me. Held me down like I was some kind of animal until the campus cops showed up.” Jason’s gaze met Jenna’s, defiant. “They arrested me before I could finish what I started.”

“What do you mean by ‘finish’ it?” Jake asked.

“Well, I wanted to put him in the hospital, at least. Hurt him bad enough to teach him a lesson.”

The room fell quiet, except for muffled sounds of the jailhouse around them.

“Violence isn’t the answer to heartbreak, Jason,” Jake told him.

His snort was dismissive. “What would you have done, huh?” Jason shot back. “Just sit back after getting played for a fool? Amber told me herself, said she’s engaged to him—Liam Sweeney, some guy I’ve never heard of, who she met only last year. It was like a damn sucker-punch.”

“So, you hit him because of what Amber had said to you?” Jenna asked.

“Look, maybe it wasn’t my finest moment,” Jason admitted, his voice dropping. “But I had to do something. You get that, right?”

“Where is Amber now, Jason?” she asked, watching him intently.

“Amber? How would I know? She’s probably at the shelter or at home, buried in her studies,” Jason muttered, his voice carrying a nonchalance that felt off-kilter to Jenna. “That’s all she seems interested in anymore.”

Jenna studied Jason, searching for any telltale signs that might betray his true knowledge of Amber’s whereabouts. Her intuition, usually razor-sharp, was muddied by the intricate web of emotions emanating from the man before her.

She leaned back against the cold metal chair, her gaze never wavering from his face as she probed for more. “Tell me about yesterday, Jason. What did you do, where did you go, after you got off work yesterday?”

Jason’s brow creased with surprise, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Didn’t think you’d care about my day, but sure. After I finished work at Otto’s, I hit up some bars. Needed to drown the hurt, you know?”

Jake chimed in again, “We heard you went home and threw a little tantrum.”

“Who’s been talking?” Jason shot back, the previous veil of indifference slipping. His hands clenched into fists.

“Focus on the question, Jason,” Jake pressed, unfazed by the rising agitation.

“Alright, yeah, I trashed my place a little bit—so what?” Jason spat out. “It’s my stuff. My right.”

Jenna’s gaze remained fixed on the man on the cot as she posed her next question. “What did you do after you destroyed your belongings?”

“Got in my truck,” he said, his voice flat. “Drove around the county, stopped off at some bars. More drinking.” He shrugged, a hollow gesture that failed to displace the weight in the room. “Guess I’m lucky no one nabbed me for DUI.”

“Then?” Jenna pressed, unimpressed by his attempt at nonchalance. She understood the patterns of questioning, how pressure and pause could play their parts in peeling back layers of bravado to reveal a vulnerable core.

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