Page 11 of In Her Sights

“Ralph mentioned that Sarah’s disappearance wasn’t anything new,” Jake observed, his tone gentle.

Evelyn leaned against the counter. “Yes, well…” She hesitated, her eyes drifting toward the window, where the night had painted everything in shades of uncertainty. “Sarah hasn’t really been… around for years now. Ever since she was little, she always said she wanted to leave, and she did, as soon asshe got her diploma from Gildner High. Got herself a degree in education at one of them state colleges. We…” She paused, her throat working against the words. “We didn’t see much of her after that. That was just her way. Sarah always took the road less traveled.”

“Did she come back at all?” Jake prodded gently.

“Once,” Evelyn replied curtly, as if the brevity of her answer could mask the sting of its truth. “Only once, when she moved to Trentville for a teaching position at the elementary school.”

Jenna nodded, picking up on the undertones of that visit. It hadn’t been the warm reunion one might expect. There were no fond memories here, only the echoes of arguments and the chill of estrangement. Jenna sympathized silently; it was a familiarity that resonated deep within her own heart.

“Did she keep in touch with anyone at all in Gildner after she left?” she inquired.

“No.” Evelyn shook her head. “Sarah was a loner through and through. Never one to cling to the past.”

“Wasn’t there any communication at all?” Jenna asked.

“Occasionally we got a postcard, maybe a call on holidays. But it was as if she moved to another world,” Evelyn confided, the lines on her face deepening with the admission. “And we were just ghosts of her past life.”

The revelation settled heavily in the room. Jenna recognized the pattern, the desire to flee, not just from a place but also from memories and expectations. As Jenna observed Evelyn, she could almost feel the tangled web of emotions that enveloped the woman. The aura of resentment toward Sarah for leaving this life behind was palpable, interwoven with threads of envy for the freedoms her daughter had claimed for herself. Jenna understood too well the complexities of such familial dynamics—the silent battles fought over dinner tables, the unspoken accusations that hung in the air like stale smoke.

She also knew that there were no answers to be found in this household.

“Thank you, Mrs. Thompson,” Jenna said. “We won’t trouble you further.”

“I wish there was more I could do,” the woman said. Then, after a short silence, she added, “Please find my girl.”

“Of course, Mrs. Thompson,” Jenna replied.

She signaled to Jake, and they made their way back through the house, leaving the Thompsons and their haunted silences behind. As they stepped outside into the embrace of the late June night, the air was thick with the scent of overgrown grass and the distant promise of rain. Jenna inhaled deeply, feeling the coolness against her skin. As she navigated the patrol car along the gravel road leading away from the Thompsons’ farmhouse, the night air was thick with the scent of summer earth and growing things, so unlike the stifling atmosphere that had hung over the living room where they’d left Ralph Thompson and his game show.

As they drove away from the Thompsons’ house, she flicked on the high beams, and the car’s headlights cut through the dark, illuminating the uneven terrain of the farmstead. Fields of crops stretched out on either side of the road. It was easy to imagine Sarah as a child, running through those fields, dreaming of a life beyond their borders. And easy to imagine her fleeing … disappearing into the darkness.

“Hey,” Jake said softly, his gaze fixed on Jenna as she drove. “You look like you’ve got a storm brewing in your head. What’s going on?”

Jenna felt the question hang in the air, heavy and expectant. Her fingers gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, a physical manifestation of the tension inside her. She knew Jake was observant, but it still surprised her how well he could read her.

“It’s just…” Jenna started, then paused, searching for the right words. “Cases like these, they stir up old feelings. Sarah’s disappearance… it feels personal.”

“Piper,” he said, the name falling between them like a stone.

Jenna exhaled slowly, her eyes fixed on the dim glow of the dashboard lights.

Jake said sympathetically, “I guess it doesn’t help that today’s the anniversary of … well, you know.”

“Yeah, it hits close to home …” She trailed off, weighing her words. “And Evelyn—there’s something about her that reminds me of my mother.”

Jake studied her for a moment, reading the lines of strain. “When are you going to try to fix things with your mom?” he asked gently, though a hint of challenge also laced his tone.

“Ironically, I was thinking about visiting her tonight,” Jenna admitted. “I tell myself that every morning. But then, there’s always something…” She glanced at the clock on the dash. “It’s too late to visit her now. And she’s probably been drinking by this point.”

“Maybe tomorrow,” Jake offered, but they both knew it was an empty suggestion—one often repeated and seldom acted upon.

“Let’s just focus on finding Sarah,” Jenna finally said, the resolution in her voice mixed with an undercurrent of something else—fear, perhaps. She pressed her lips together. She gripped the steering wheel tighter, as if the act could keep her anchored in the present.

The ride back was spent in contemplation, the occasional flare of headlights from an oncoming vehicle offering brief illumination before they were once again enveloped in the darkness. Jenna’s thoughts turned from her mother to the case at hand, to Sarah Thompson, whose life seemed to be a puzzle with pieces scattered across Genesius County. But she knew thatSarah’s disappearance was more than a case; it was a mirror reflecting the fractures in her own life.

As they entered the sleepy town of Trentville, the streets were quiet, the storefronts darkened, and the courthouse clock tower stood sentinel over the slumbering city. The familiar storefronts and houses passed by in a blur. It was a typical small town that might have appeared peaceful to any passerby, but Jenna knew better. Beneath its tranquil exterior lay secrets and stories that only someone like her could unravel. She pulled the patrol car into the lot at the Genesius County Sheriff’s Office, where Jake had left his own vehicle.

“Hard to believe it’s the same place where we chased down a noisy parrot just this morning, isn’t it?” Jenna remarked.

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