Page 48 of In Her Mind

Without waiting for a response, Frank strode toward the door. Jake rose, too, offering Jenna a subtle nod, prompting her to follow. As they exited the coolness of the office, the tension began to dissipate.

Together, the three of them walked out into the late afternoon warmth, the weight of the closed case momentarily lifted from their shoulders. The streets of Trentville stretched out ahead, holding both the tales of the past and the promise of a peaceful evening.

“Thanks for stepping in back there,” Jenna said to Frank, her voice betraying a hint of relief as she unlocked her car.

“Can’t let you get tripped up by your own talents,” Frank replied gruffly, easing himself into the back seat. “But don’tthink you can dodge the bullet forever. People will start asking how you do what you do.”

Jake added, “By the time Bill get to trial, we’ll have nailed down enough ordinary evidence to get a conviction.”

They got into the car and Jenna drove through the town of Trentville, passing storefronts and local landmarks that Jake was sure carried echoes of cases past.

Frank’s house came into view, its modest facade a testament to the man’s unpretentious nature. Jenna eased the car to a stop, and Frank unbuckled his seatbelt with an air of satisfaction.

“Thanks for the day’s excitement,” Frank said, opening the door to step out. “It’s good to know I’ve still got it when it counts.”

“Wouldn’t have been the same without you,” Jenna responded, a genuine smile warming her features. “You always know how to save the day.”

With a final nod, Frank closed the car door behind him and walked towards his home, leaving Jake and Jenna alone. Silence enveloped the car once more as Jenna pulled away from the curb, heading toward Jake’s place. He could sense the shift in the atmosphere—the quiet that comes after the storm of activity and adrenaline has passed.

As Jenna drove, Jake caught her stealing quick glances at him. He knew she was processing everything that had happened, perhaps wondering about the same unspoken thoughts that occupied his mind. But neither spoke, each lost in their reflections, letting the hum of the engine fill the space between them.

They turned onto the street where his house stood, its familiar shape a welcome sight after the long day. Jenna brought the car to a gentle stop.

“Good work today, Jenna,” Jake said, hoping his words would bridge the gap of silence that had grown between them.

“Thanks, Jake,” Jenna replied, her eyes meeting his for a fleeting moment—enough to remind him of the bond they shared.

“Jenna,” he began, leaning toward her. “Today was... something else.”

She nodded, her solemn gaze on the quiet street ahead. “It sure was. I’m just glad we got Amber back safely.”

There was so much he wanted to say, to ask—about how she felt, about what lay beneath her stoic exterior. But this wasn’t the time or place. His personal feelings had to wait; they always had to wait. He knew the attraction between them was growing stronger, and it wasn’t going to just fade away. Sooner or later they would both have to decide how to deal that.

“Get some rest tonight,” he said, forcing a lightness into his tone that belied the complexity of his emotions. “Tomorrow we’ll tackle the great gnome heist of Trentville.”

A brief smile ghosted across Jenna’s lips, a fleeting moment of camaraderie.

“I’ll hold you to that, Deputy Hawkins.”

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

Jenna’s boots sank into damp earth with each step, a thick fog enveloping her like a suffocating blanket. It muffled the sounds of the night, leaving only the rhythmic thud of her heart in her ears. A sense of déjà vu crept over her. She knew this path, though she couldn’t see it.

As if hearing her silent complaint, the fog began to retreat, revealing the gnarled oak tree that stood for memories best forgotten. Her eyes softened as she approached the tree, drawnto the carving on its trunk. The initials etched into the wood morphed before her, dancing through an alphabet of love and loss. DT + SD flowed into MB + CC, then RB + JC, never settling, never still.

A cold touch on her shoulder snapped Jenna out of her trance. She turned to find Lisa Donovan, her ghostly face now wearing a rare smile. Relief washed over Jenna, her chestnut hair swaying slightly as she exhaled a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.

“Thank you,” Lisa said, her voice a whisper of leaves rustling. “You saved another life from Bill Hartley’s twisted path.”

Jenna nodded, but her eyes were hard with questions. “But what of you, Lisa? Was your death truly an accident? Or did Bill...”

She trailed off as Lisa gestured toward a large stone stained dark with old blood.

“I fell,” Lisa said with a calm resignation that belied the violence of her end. “He pushed me, and I tumbled and fell, and I hit my head. Poor Bill. He didn’t mean to kill me.”

Jenna turned back to the tree, where the initials continued their ghostly dance across the bark. “Why do they keep changing, Lisa?” she asked, her voice steady despite the eerie scene.

“Because I can’t remember … can’t keep the right initials in my head,” Lisa replied, the corners of her mouth turning down in a spectral frown. Jenna offered a small, understanding smile. It was one of the peculiar struggles of the afterlife, it seemed—the spirit’s mind clouded and drifting just like the mist that enveloped them. That’s why some of the clues they gave her were so difficult to understand.

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