Page 25 of In Her Mind

Yet an uneasy feeling had lodged itself firmly in Jenna’s gut. Was the omission merely an oversight by a distressed father, or something more calculated?

“Strange,” she agreed. “You’d think it’d be something a father would mention, given the circumstances.”

“Unless he had a reason not to,” Jake suggested, his words a challenge to their assumptions. “Perhaps there are other ways he could’ve been involved without violence. We need to talk to Otto again.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

The dashboard clock glowed 8:17 PM as Jenna drove away from the fluorescent halo of a fast-food joint. Since she and Jake hadn’t taken time to eat today, they’d stopped to pick up burgers and fries on the way out of Pinecrest. Jenna took a bite from the burger she held in one hand, the taste lost to the churn ofthoughts in her mind. Despite the weariness that tugged at her eyes, she knew this workday was not over yet.

“I told Frank Doyle we’d update him,” she said, remembering her phone conversation with her mentor earlier in the day. Jake nodded, wiping his hands with a napkin before retrieving his phone from his pocket.

He dialed Frank Doyle, and the phone rang several times before the former sheriff’s gruff voice answered. “Doyle.”

“Frank, it’s Jake. Jenna and I are on speaker.”

“Tell me you’ve got something good,” Frank sounded hopeful.

Jenna swallowed another bite, this one dry against her throat. “We’re hitting walls, Frank. We searched Old Orndorf Road today. Found Amber’s car abandoned.” Her report was crisp, factual. “It looks as though someone might have been lying in wait for her there.”

“Stalked?” Frank’s question was sharp with concern.

“Potentially abducted,” Jenna corrected him, piecing together the unsettling tableau they’d discovered earlier that day. She clutched the burger tighter, as if the act could squeeze out a new lead from the stale information they had.

“Colonel Chad Spelling is lending a hand with the Highway Patrol,” she told him. “As for suspects, Jason Reeves tops the list. We’ve talked to him but got nowhere.”

“Reeves...” Frank mused on the other end, the name rolling off his tongue like gravel. “I can’t say I know him.”

“He works in Otto Stevens’ auto repair shop. He and Amber were longtime sweethearts, and when she broke it off, Jason got drunk and drove to Pineville to take a punch at her new fiancée—Liam Sweeney, a student at Ozark State University.”

“You think this Jason took his hurt feelings out on Amber?”

“We’re not convinced of that, not yet. He’s sleeping off the booze in the Pineville jail.”

“So he worked for Amber’s father? I assume you’ve interviewed Otto. Was he cooperative?”

“Cooperative, yes,” Jenna conceded. “But Otto neglected to mention he even knew about Amber’s engagement to Liam Sweeney. It’s an odd thing to leave out.”

There was a brief silence before Frank replied, “Otto’s a stubborn old coot, but I can’t picture him hurting Amber. Still, that omission... it doesn’t sit right. Maybe you and Jake should pay him another visit.”

“We’re on our way to do that now,” she confirmed.

“Jenna.” Frank’s tone softened, intuitive as ever. “You’ve got more on your mind, something you’re not saying. Did you dream about this case?”

Jenna wasn’t surprised that Frank would ask such a question. Until a few days ago, when she’d confided the truth to Jake, Frank had been the only person in the world who knew about her lucid dreams.

“I did have a dream,” Jenna admitted hesitantly, cautious not to imbue her confession with undue weight. “A woman visited me, she looked like Amber. If it was her...”

“Jenna,” Frank interrupted gently, “Dreams can be powerful, but they’re not always prophecy. Without a body, without evidence, don’t assume death.”

“Understood,” Jenna said. “I’m trying not to let it sway me until there’s evidence to back it up.”

“That’s good. Keep your head clear, Jenna.”

“Thanks, Frank,” she replied, gratitude in her tone before ending the call. The line clicked dead, severing the momentary connection to her mentor, but Frank’s advice lingered in the air, along with the greasy scent of burgers and fries.

***

Time ticked by, marked by the rhythmic thrum of tires on asphalt. Jenna kept her focus on the road leading to Otto Stevens’s home just outside of Trentville. When she finally pulled up to the Stevens residence, they met with the soft golden light spilling from the porch. They approached the door and knocked.

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