Page 47 of In Her Mind

She charged forward and grappled with Hartley, her hands searching for leverage, anything to keep him from getting back to his gun. Then they both saw that the wide-eyed woman on the cot had picked up his weapon in her own shaking hands.

At that sight, Bill Hartley spun again, wriggling free like a fish escaping a net, leaving Jenna off balance. He darted out the door.

Frank appeared as if conjured for that very moment, his stance wide, firearm drawn with a steady hand. “You’re under arrest, Bill Hartley,” he bellowed with unwavering authority. The command in Frank’s voice acted as a physical force, halting Hartley in his tracks.

“Bill, don’t make me shoot you,” Frank warned, the threat obviously real.

Surrender washed over Hartley’s features; his shoulders slumped, and he raised his hands in defeat. Jake rushed in, securing him with cuffs.

Seeing that taken care of, Jenna moved into the root cellar’s dim interior, where Amber Stevens still held Bill’s gun. The young woman’s eyes, wide with terror, met Jenna’s own.

As Jenna reached out and gently took the weapon, she assured Amber, “Everything will be okay now.”

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

Jake sat rigid in his chair, his gaze fixed on a point somewhere beyond the window, as Jenna and Frank concluded the debriefing that Mayor Claire Simmons had requested. His mind was on the details, on Hartley’s confession—the unsolved mysteries now laid bare.

It had been a harrowing couple of days that led to the rescue of Amber Stevens. The apprehension of Bill Hartley had sent lots of ripples through the town of Trentville like a stone breaking the surface of a still pond.

“Bill was always odd, but I never...” Mayor Simmons said when Jenna and Frank finished their account, her voice betraying the shock she felt. The mayor leaned back in her chair, digesting the unsettling facts about a man she’d thought she knew. “To think he actually murdered Lauren Knox.”

“Confessed to that without hesitation,” Jenna said. “But Lisa Donovan’s death in ‘85 remains a foggy patch in his memory.”

“Claims he blacked out from the mix of alcohol and meth,” Jake chimed in, recalling Hartley’s slurred words during the interrogation. “Woke up and found her dead by that old oak tree. An accident or murder, he can’t say for sure. But there’s no denying his involvement.”

Mayor Simmons pursed her lips, absorbing their words. Jake observed how the light caught the edges of the numerous plaques and commendations adorning her office walls, accolades that seemed to lose their luster in the face of Trentville’s grim reality.

“Bill Hartley also idolized Sid Vicious and Nancy Spungen,” Jenna explained. “He fantasized about a ‘blaze of glory’ ending, much like theirs.”

Silence enveloped the room, heavy and uncomfortable, before Mayor Simmons spoke again. “I’ve known Bill for years...never would I have imagined such darkness dwelling within him.”

Frank Doyle shifted in his seat, his presence commanding despite his years. “Demons are no strangers here in Trentville,” he said gruffly, his gray eyes reflecting an understanding born of decades facing down the town’s veiled horrors.

The mayor nodded slowly, then turned her sharp gaze towards Jenna. “What still puzzles me is how you found those graves—how you linked them to Amber’s disappearance.”

Jake saw the alarm in Jenna's eyes at the impossibility of answering that question without revealing her abilities. Then, he saw the relief in her eyes when Frank spoke up on her behalf.

“Madam Mayor, how Jenna found those graves is her business. The important thing is that she did, and because of that, Amber Stevens is safe.”

“Nonetheless,” Mayor Simmons pressed, leaning forward, her brows knitting together over eyes that demanded facts. “I can’t help but wonder—”

“Does it matter?” Frank interrupted, his voice firm. Jake’s attention shifted between the two; the unspoken history in their gazes was palpable. The mayor, usually so composed and commanding, seemed to shrink back slightly, her authority wavering under Frank’s imposing stature.

“Frank has a point,” Jake added, his voice calm and supportive. “We solved the case. Isn’t that what counts?”

Mayor Simmons opened her mouth, perhaps to argue further, but then closed it with an audible snap. Jake could senseher frustration, her need for control clashing with the reality of the situation.

“It’s just that—I don’t like mysteries,” the mayor stammered.

“Look around, Claire,” Frank chuckled, his tone taking on a more conversational timbre. “Mysteries are what make Trentville what it is. If we didn’t have a few secrets, it’d just be another dot on the map.”

“Secrets can be dangerous,” the mayor countered, her voice tinged with unease.

“True,” Frank admitted. “But sometimes they’re necessary. And you should count yourself lucky to have Jenna on the job. Her instincts are sharper than any I’ve seen in my years on the job, including my own.”

Jake remained silent, observing the exchange. He knew there was only so much pushing the mayor would tolerate before she pushed back. But today, Frank had played his cards right.

“Anyway, this meeting is over,” Frank declared, standing up with an ease that belied his age. “We’ve finished a good day’s work, and I’m sure you’ve got a town to run.”

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