Page 35 of In Her Mind

“Lisa Donovan,” he said, his words tumbling into the past, “was in my graduating class.” The connection crackled slightly, as if even technology felt the strain of time being rewound. “She vanished right after we tossed our caps. We all thought—well, nobody really questioned it much.”

Jenna pictured Lisa Donovan as a young woman from another era frozen in time, her fate only now demanding attention.

“Her father, Claude,” Frank continued, “ruled his household like a dictator. No one dared cross him. When Lisa disappeared, the story we got fed was that she’d had enough and she finally ran off. But now …”

There was a pause, then Frank said, “But now it’s obvious she was murdered.” His tone was somber, as if each word cost him something. “And there must be more to that story. You said there was a second grave?”

“Yes, identically buried,” Jenna replied. “Is there another disappearance that comes to mind—an unsolved case that could explain who the other woman buried in the woods might be?”

Frank hesitated, a silence stretching between them.

“Nothing official,” he finally said, his voice laced with reluctance. “But small towns have long memories, Jenna. There are always rumors, whispers of things not quite right.”

Jenna exchanged a glance with Jake, both aware that they stood at the edge of something larger than they had anticipated.

She told Frank, “The coroner said the second body had been buried about half as long as Lisa’s.”

Frank’s breath caught in the phone’s speaker. “I was sheriff by then,” he muttered. “I remember, there was one girl, Lauren Knox, just graduated high school in 2003. She vanished without a trace, and it’s a case that never left me. Her parents were distraught, reported her missing immediately. We searched, got the Highway Patrol involved, even the FBI. But Lauren... she just disappeared into thin air.”

“Did you know what Lauren looked like, Frank?” Jenna asked, her fingers drumming on the steering wheel rhythmically, tapping out the cadence of her thoughts. “Could there be a resemblance between her and Lisa?”

“Thinking back,” Frank said slowly, as if sifting through the archives of his memory, “Lauren may have shared some features with Lisa. The same slender build, long dark hair that cascaded down their backs. Of course, it never occurred to me to think about that resemblance until now …”

“Is there anyone still in Trentville who might remember these girls? Someone we should talk to?” Jenna questioned.

“Lauren’s folks left town not long after she did; couldn’t bear the reminders, I suppose. As for Lisa, both her parents are gone now—Claude and Mary Donovan. Claude’s passing didn’t leave many mourning,”

Jenna processed the information. With each revelation, the image of the small town’s past became less idyllic and more tarnished by secrets.

“Lisa’s younger sister, Ruth—she still lives here in Trentville,” Frank’s voice crackled through the speakerphone. “Married Simon Henderson. He’s a dentist over on Maple Street. Might be worth paying her a visit.”

“Thank you, Frank. We’ll do that right now.”

“Good luck,” he replied before she ended the call.

Jake scrolled through his phone, locating an address associated with the Hendersons. Jenna nodded, her gaze fixed on the road ahead as she started up the car and steered toward their new destination.

They arrived at a modest two-story house edged with trim hedges and a well-kept lawn. The neighborhood was quiet, except for the distant laughter of children playing somewhere out of sight. Jenna parked the car, and she and Jake stepped out, making their way up to the front door.

She knocked firmly. Moments later, the door swung open to reveal a woman with lines around kind eyes that had seen much of life. Her hair was a soft shade of brown, touched with wisps of gray, and her hands, though showing signs of work and age, were steady and inviting.

“Deputy Hawkins, Sheriff Graves,” Ruth Henderson greeted them, recognition lighting her features. “I saw your car out front. Please come in.”

The threshold crossed, Jenna observed the interior—a cozy chronicle of a family’s history. Framed photographs lined the walls, capturing smiles of years gone by. A worn sofa suggestedcountless evenings spent together, and the faint aroma of baked goods lingered, suggesting warmth despite the absence of its youthful occupants.

“Thank you, Mrs. Henderson,” Jenna said, stepping into the living room.

Ruth gestured towards a pair of cushioned armchairs, their fabric worn by years of use. Jenna lowered herself into one, and Jake took the seat beside her.

“We’re here with some questions about Lisa Donovan,” Jenna began, her voice measured, betraying none of the turmoil that the case stirred within her. “Your sister.”

“Lisa?” Ruth’s expression shifted to one of resignation as she settled onto the love seat across from them. “She ran away a long time ago.” Her hands folded in her lap. “It was sad, of course, but not surprising. She always wanted to escape... to leave everything behind.”

Jenna noted the subtle tension in Ruth’s shoulders, the way her gaze drifted, not quite meeting Jenna’s own. It was a look Jenna knew well—resignation with an undertone of unresolved pain and unanswered questions.

“Mrs. Henderson,” Jenna continued, softer now, “I’m afraid I have some difficult news. We’ve found a body—an unmarked grave on the outskirts of town. There was a high school ID card identifying the remains as Lisa.”

The color drained from Ruth’s face, leaving her pallid beneath the overhead light. “I... I always worried something terrible had happened.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, her eyes glistening with the onset of tears long held at bay. “Mom did too, before she passed.”

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