Page 32 of In Her Mind

“SV and NS,” Jake repeated softly, as though saying the letters aloud could unlock their meaning.

“The oak stood by the tracks just as it does now,” Jenna went on, her gaze momentarily distant, “and the crossing was right there, a short walk away. Everything in the dream was connected to this place, this moment.” Her hands enveloped the warmth of her coffee mug as if it could anchor her to the here and now.

The diner hummed around them, a comforting backdrop to the intensity of their conversation. The scent of brewing coffee mingled with the promise of breakfast on the griddle. But for Jenna, the only hunger that mattered was for answers. The dream had been a map, and she had followed it to this juncture between realms—where reality and visions met.

“Then I woke up,” she finished, “and I called you right away.” There was no hesitation in her voice, no second-guessing the impulse that had driven her to act on her preternatural insight.

From behind the kitchen, the sound of a bell signaled their order was up. The waitress scurried over and brought their plates laden with eggs, toast, and strips of bacon. For a brief moment, they allowed themselves a respite; the simple act of beginning their meal was as an acknowledgment of the challenging day ahead.

They both ate in a companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts—Jenna’s mind replaying the dream, the faces of the women, the fresh graves, and most of all, the initials carved into the tree. The significance of those letters eluded her, but she sensed their importance.

Jake paused, his fork halfway to his mouth, and fixed Jenna with a look that seemed to penetrate her defenses. “You okay?” he asked. “In the middle of all this …”

“Fine,” she responded automatically, though the dark circles under her eyes betrayed the restless night behind her. She pushed around a piece of bacon on her plate, trying to muster the energy the food was supposed to provide.

“How about you?”

“Strange” was too mild a term for what they were dealing with, but it was the one Jake settled on, his voice laced with skepticism. “I mean, this kind of ‘evidence’... It’s hard to wrap my head around it.”

“Can’t blame you,” Jenna responded.

“Question is,” Jake continued, “if neither of the women you saw is Amber Stevens, could these graves, the tree, and all of it be unrelated to the case? Could your dream be leading us off track?”

“I’ve never had a dream that didn’t connect to a case.” Her tone held conviction. “The details … the timing of them... it’s always significant.”

Before Jake could reply, Jenna’s phone erupted with a shrill ring that sliced through the silence. A glance at the caller ID, and her stomach clenched—Mayor Simmons. She exhaled slowly, steeling herself for the conversation.

“Graves,” she answered, keeping her voice even as she switched the call to speakerphone.

Mayor Simmons’s voice, sharp as broken glass, cut through the hum of Hank’s Derby. “Graves, what’s this I’m hearing about unmarked graves near Freeport Road?”

“We don’t know yet, Mayor Simmons,” Jenna began, her eyes fixed on Jake for moral support. “We’ve discovered anomalies in the ground that suggest unmarked graves. They could be related to Amber Stevens’s disappearance.”

“Could be? That’s hardly definitive. And how did you come across them?” Mayor Simmons’s tone suggested she was unsatisfied with vague justifications.

Jenna felt taken off guard, but she knew she should have seen this coming. Why wouldn’t the mayor want to know how she’d managed to find these graves that no one had apparently noticed for many years?

“During our investigation,” Jenna replied, skirting the facts. Her psychic insights were not something she could disclose to the mayor—or, for that matter, to anyone except the two people who knew about it already, Jake and Frank. “We’re following up on a lead. Melissa Stark will be on site soon, and I’ll report back with her findings.”

“I know about that. Actually, I’ve decided that I’ll be joining her team. I want to see this for myself.” The line went dead before Jenna could protest.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“Found something!”

At those words, the three people watching the Coroner’s work at the old gravesites stepped forward eagerly. MelissaStark, clad head-to-toe in a white hazmat suit that made her look like an astronaut, was directing her team with clinical precision. One of the workers gestured for the watchers to stay back.

Mayor Claire Simmons’s glared at both Jenna and Jake. “Stay out of their way,” the mayor had commanded them upon her arrival, as if she was the one in charge. The mayor’s charcoal suit was crisply tailored. Her hands were folded across her chest, each tap of her polished fingernail against her forearm expressing her annoyance at everything taking place around her.

As they stood waiting for the team to reveal their discovery, the Mayor asked sharply, “Sheriff, just what are you expecting to find here?” The question wasn’t just about the graves; it was a thinly veiled probe into Jenna’s methods, which so often strayed from the conventional path.

“Answers,” Jenna replied succinctly, her voice betraying none of the conflict she felt brewing inside her.

“Let’s hope they’re the right ones,” Mayor Simmons retorted, her skepticism audible. Jenna nodded, knowing that whatever was unearthed from the damp soil, it was as likely to raise questions as answers.

A few moments later, a second call echoed from workers at the adjacent gravesite, “Here too!”

Then Melissa Stark waved for Jenna and Jake to come closer, and they stepped gingerly across the soft earth. “Not too close, and don’t touch anything,” the coroner warned them.

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