Page 42 of In Her Sights

“Go on,” Jenna urged, her mind piecing together the fragments of Melissa Brennan’s last known day.

“Melissa had this library book, see?” Lucas continued, pointing in the general direction of Trentville. “It was overdue. She wouldn’t leave without returning it. Took the bus into town.”

Jenna’s breath hitched sharply. Those words sounded like an echo from her dream. “This book is overdue,” the woman had said. “I’ve got to return it.”

“And then?” Jenna prompted, sensing there was more he wasn’t saying.

Lucas’s hands clenched involuntarily. “She never came home.” His eyes met Jenna’s, and for a moment, she glimpsed the raw edge of his uncertainty. “I’ve kept her suitcases… just in case.”

Jenna leaned back in her chair, her emerald eyes reflecting the morning light. There was something true here, buried beneath layers of regret and silence.

“Lucas,” she addressed the man sitting across from her on the creaky porch, “why didn’t you tell Sheriff Doyle the truth about Melissa’s disappearance?”

Lucas Brennan shifted, his chair groaning under his wiry frame. “Doyle and I—we’ve had our differences.” His voice was gruff, with an undercurrent of defiance. “Arrests for assault, misunderstandings… He wouldn’t have believed me if I told him Birdie just vanished.”

Jenna observed Lucas closely, noting the way his jaw clenched when he spoke of the former sheriff. Doyle had been her mentor, but she knew his relationship with the townsfolk could sometimes be fraught. She also understood the weight of suspicion that could fall on a man with Lucas’s history.

“Out of fear, then,” Jenna surmised, “you chose silence.”

Lucas looked away, his gaze settling on the distant tree line as if searching for something only he could see. “I told everyone she left, because in a way, she did. Said it straight out—she was leaving me.” A shadow of vulnerability crossed his weather-beaten face. “The truth is, I’m still waiting for her to walk back through that door.”

Jenna’s intuition flickered, a silent pulse at the back of her mind. It wasn’t evidence, nothing concrete, yet there was something in Lucas’s demeanor that suggested genuine loss rather than guilt—and also shame at his cowardice for never telling the truth until now. Beside her, Jake remained quiet, his expression unreadable, but she could sense his belief in Lucas’s words.

“Lucas,” she began, her voice softer now, “if there’s anything else you remember about that day, anything at all, it might help us find out what happened to both Melissa and Sarah Thompson.”

But Lucas merely shook his head.

“Where were you the afternoon and evening before last, Lucas?” Jake asked. “When Sarah Thompson disappeared.”

“Right here,” Lucas replied, a defiant note in his tone. “But there ain’t no one to vouch for me.” His eyes flickered briefly to Jenna.

Jenna’s gaze never wavered from Lucas as she posed her next question. “How do you know Sarah Thompson?”

“Through Birdie,” he answered, a softness entering his voice. “They met not long before Birdie disappeared. Must have been right around the time Sarah moved to Trentville. They’d spend hours together, mostly at the library. Books were their thing, not mine.”

The simplicity in his response gnawed at Jenna’s intuition. It wasn’t a confession, nor a solid alibi, but rather a glimpse intoa shared history between the missing women. Jenna filed away this detail; such connections often formed the crux of unsolved cases.

“Thank you for your time, Lucas,” Jake said, extending a courteous nod. “We’ll be on our way now.”

As they retreated to the safety of their vehicle, Jenna wrestled with her frustration and confusion. She slid behind the wheel while Jake settled into the passenger seat.

“Alright, Jake, why? Why are you so sure he didn’t do it?” she asked, flicking a glance his way.

“Because that man never killed anyone,” Jake replied calmly, a certainty in his voice that belied his easy demeanor.

Jenna furrowed her brow, not entirely convinced. “And how can you be so sure about that?” There was an edge to her voice—an impatience for logic amid the chaos of her thoughts.

Jake turned to her, his sandy hair catching the light as he flashed a playful, knowing smile. “Come on, Jenna. You’re not the only one around here who has instincts.”

The remark elicited a half-smile from Jenna, despite the frustration nipping at her heels. It was true; Jake had proven himself more than once since leaving Kansas City behind for the quiet rhythm of Trentville, Missouri. His words resonated with a part of her psyche that she couldn’t ignore—the same part that told her Piper was still out there somewhere.

“Okay, then, Mr. I-Know-What-I’m-Doing-Better-Than-My-Boss,” Jenna conceded, not willing to let her pride cloud her judgment. “What do we do next?”

Jake leaned back, contemplating their next move. The silence stretched between them, giving way to the hum of the engine and the rustle of leaves in the summer breeze. Then he looked at her expectantly, passing the decision back into her hands.

“We head back to headquarters,” Jenna said decisively. “We regroup.”

“Sounds like a plan. Or as close as we’ve got to a plan.”

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