Page 35 of In Her Sights

“Who’s a reader?” Jenna asked.

“The other. The one who’s in danger. She’s a reader too. And it’s been five years.”

“Five years,” Jenna repeated. This was a message that she had to remember, every word upon waking. But right now, she wanted to ask …

The piercing trill of the alarm clock cut through the silence, a harsh siren that dragged Jenna from the depths of her dream. She gasped, her body jolting upright in bed as if she had been submerged underwater and was fighting her way to the surface. As the remnants of sleep fell away, a phrase looped in her mindlike a broken record: “It’s been five years.” The same words Mark Reeves had uttered in another dream, now resonating with ominous familiarity.

Her fingers fumbled for the alarm clock, silencing its clamor. Eyes wide in the dim light of dawn, she scanned the familiar confines of her bedroom as if searching for something out of place, something that would explain the unnerving echo between dreams. What did the five-year mark signify? There were patterns here, clues that begged to be pieced together.

She reached for her phone on the nightstand and dialed Jake’s number. She heard it starting to ring before she remembered the awkwardness that had settled between them after their last conversation, when she’d told him about dreams just like the one she’d just experienced. She suddenly felt unsure about what to expect from him.

When his familiar voice answered, it sounded tentative.

“Jake, it’s Jenna,” she said unnecessarily, since he had surely seen her ID.

“Morning, Jenna,” he replied, a hint of hesitation, the memory of last night’s conversation lingering unspoken.

“Listen, I need your help,” Jenna cut through the tension. “Something important… It’s a lead, I’m sure of it.”

“From …?” He left the question unfinished.

“Yes, it came from a dream. A lucid dream, like I explained …”

After what seemed to her like a long silence, Jake responded. “Alright, what do you need?”

“We need to visit Frank Doyle,” she stated firmly, leaving no room for doubt. Her instincts were flaring, and every second felt like an eternity slipping away.

“Frank?” Surprise colored Jake’s tone. “What’s this about?”

“It’s complicated. Too much to explain over the phone. I’ll drive by and pick you up in ten minutes.” She heard the sound of hope in her own voice.

“Sure thing, Jenna,” Jake consented, rustling sounds indicating he was already in motion. “Ten minutes.”

With a sense of gratitude, Jenna ended the call and started to get dressed. Yet, she still struggled with an undercurrent of unease. Things were going to be different with Jake now that he knew the truth about her lucid dreams. Starting today, they would be plunged into a whole new chapter in both of their lives.

But was Jake ready to deal with it? Was she?

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The toot of a car horn cut through the morning stillness, pulling Jake from his thoughts. He glanced out the window to see the familiar patrol car parked at the curb. With a last look at the quiet order of his living room, he grabbed his keys and stepped outside. The air was fresh with the scent of dew on grass, typical for a June morning in Trentville.

As Jake approached the car, he saw Jenna was sitting rather stiffly behind the wheel, her gaze fixed straight ahead. Without a word, he opened the passenger door and slid into the seat beside her.

“Morning,” he offered, as the door closed with a solid thunk.

“Morning, Jake,” Jenna replied, her tone even. She pulled away from the curb, her hands steady on the wheel.

The silence between them was charged with an unspoken awareness that lingered from last night’s conversation, that moment when Jenna had confided in him about her lucid dreams. “Sometimes, I’m visited by the dead,” she had said matter-of-factly. Those words still echoed in his mind, refusing to be dismissed as mere fantasy.

Jake turned his head slightly, studying her profile. Her eyes remained focused on the road, but there was something haunting in her gaze, something that told him those words were more than just a claim. He realized that they were a burden she carried, a window to a world he couldn’t begin to understand. He couldn’t help but wish he could shield her from whatever pain those dreams brought with them.

He had seen a lot during his years as a beat cop in Kansas City, witnessed human behavior in its rawest forms, but this—this gift of Jenna’s—it was beyond his realm of experience. Doubt still mixed with his curiosity, yet he knew better than todismiss her outright. Jenna was perceptive, analytical, and her intuition had proven itself time and again.

“About last night—” he started, only to be interrupted by Jenna’s swift shake of her head.

“Let’s talk at Frank’s,” she said, cutting off the conversation decisively.

Jake nodded, settling back into the seat. The drive to Frank Doyle’s house would be short, but in that brief span, his mind raced. Whatever Jenna had experienced in her dream, it was significant enough to bring them here, and as much as he wrestled with belief, he did trust her. He trusted her instincts and her dedication. He tried to reconcile the woman he knew—the sharp-shooting sheriff, the relentless investigator—with someone who claimed communion with the departed. He was trained to trust evidence, procedure, and what he could see with his own eyes.

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