Page 31 of In Her Sights

“Let’s go over there,” she suggested. “I’ll tell you everything—over coffee. All your questions, every doubt you have, I’ll lay it all out.”

She was aware that once she started to share her secret, there would be no turning back. Her fate and Jake’s, their ability to work together or maintain any relationship at all, hung on his reaction. And she could not tell what that was going to be.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Jenna led the way as she and Jake left the dimly lit parking lot of the Twilight Inn. Across the road, Hank’s Derby beckoned them with its warm glow. When they pushed through the door of the truck stop café, the familiar clang of the entrance bell noted their arrival. With a checkerboard floor, red vinyl booths, and a counter lined with chrome-edged stools, it was a place that seemed untouched by time, much like Trentville itself.

They slid into a booth, and Jenna signaled to the waitress. Although hours had passed since their burgers back at the office, neither of them felt like having a full meal. The waitress set two coffees before them and took their orders for slices of apple pie.

Jenna observed Jake as he settled into the booth, his posture relaxed. Maybe this would be as good a time as any, she thought.

“Jake,” she began, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

He leaned forward to listen, but now that the moment was here, Jenna found herself unsure where to start. At the very beginning, she decided.

“Have you ever heard of lucid dreaming?” she asked.

Jake shook his head, confusion knitting his brows together. “Can’t say that I have. The words sound contradictory.”

“It’s a state of dreaming where you’re aware that you’re dreaming,” Jenna began, her tone clinical, detached. “You can often control the dream, make decisions in it without waking up. It’s a scientifically recognized phenomenon, nothing supernatural about it, in and of itself.”

Jake leaned back in the booth, intrigued by the turn the conversation had taken. “So, are you saying you can do this? Lucid dream?”

“I do. Frequently. Ever since Piper vanished…” Jenna hesitated, glancing away for a moment, collecting herself before she continued.

“That’s … sort of interesting, I guess,” he muttered.

Jenna almost regretted opening this door, but secrets were heavy burdens, and Jake had become more than just a deputy to her. He deserved the truth.

“But there’s more you need to know,” she told him, “about my lucid dreams.”

She saw that he was waiting for her to explain, so she blurted, “Sometimes, I’m visited by the dead.”

“Visited?” he echoed, his voice a notch lower than usual.

“Not in the way you might think—not voices echoing from beyond or anything quite so dramatic. It’s through those dreams, lucid dreams, where I can interact with them, ask questions.”

When he made no reply but just sat there looking skeptical, Jenna continued, “Take the night before last. My father came to see me in a dream. He didn’t say much, nothing really that made sense or seemed relevant. But it was definitely him.”

His eyes studied her silently. “Your dad?” he finally asked. “And you think these visitations are… real?”

The waitress arrived, placing the plates in front of them, but Jenna barely registered their presence. She drew in a deep breath, fortifying her will to continue. After the waitress said some cheerful words and went on her way, Jake silently urged Jenna on with a nod.

“Yes, they are real,” she replied to his question, her eyes not wavering. “They come to me, communicate things… It’s unpredictable and always cryptic, but it happens.”

Silence settled over them as Jenna watched Jake process her words. She saw the gears turning behind his eyes, saw a momentary flicker of understanding before it vanished.

“Jake?” Jenna prodded gently after a moment, breaking the silence that had stretched a little too long. “I need you to say something. Anything.”

“How does it work?” he asked with a frown.

Jenna pushed her pie aside, its sweetness forgotten in the gravity of the moment. She watched Jake trying to reconcile what he knew of her as a sheriff with this stranger who spoke with the dead.

She chose her words carefully. “You know we’ve reached dead ends sometimes, only to find a breakthrough after I’ve slept on it. Literally.” She offered a wry smile, hoping to lighten the gravity of her revelation. “It’s like having an extra tool in my kit.”

“You mean to tell me those weren’t just great hunches? Are you saying these dreams actually help you solve cases?” His voice was low as he attempted to understand.

“Yes,” Jenna affirmed. “It’s how we cracked the Shannon Mine case.”

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