Page 13 of In Her Dreams
As they left City Hall and walked back to the cruiser, Jake checked his watch.“We’ve got to head over to meet Spelling and the FBI team.”
Jenna nodded, her mind racing.The day’s events swirled through her thoughts – the Harvesters’ underground prison, Jill’s strange recognition, Richard Winters’ terrified expression, and the mysterious object in his room.Separate investigations, both of which presented an awful lot to deal with.
“So let’s go deal with the feds,” she said, sliding behind the wheel.
Jake settled into the passenger seat, his presence solid and reassuring.“You okay?”
The question was simple, but Jenna heard the layers beneath it.He wasn’t just asking about the case or the upcoming meeting.He was asking about the shadows he’d seen in her eyes since they’d pulled that skeletal woman from the darkness.
“I don’t know,” she admitted, surprising herself with her honesty.“Something about all of this is...disturbing.I can’t explain it.”
“You don’t have to,” Jake said quietly.“Not to me.”
The words settled around her like a warm blanket.Jake’s acceptance of her intuitions – however unconventional or unexplainable – had become a cornerstone of their partnership.And perhaps, she admitted to herself as she pulled away from the curb, something more.
The familiar sight of the police station came into view ahead, promising answers but likely to bring more questions.Jenna took a deep breath, centering herself for the challenges that she was sure lay ahead.She had Jake beside her, her own stubborn determination, and the unique insights she wasn’t yet ready to name aloud.
Jenna parked the car, then glanced at Jake, drawing strength from his steady presence.
“Ready?”he asked.
“As I’ll ever be,” she replied, stepping out to face whatever came next.
CHAPTER FIVE
The familiar brick facade of the Genesius County Sheriff’s Department stood solid and reassuring against the backdrop of Trentville’s modest skyline.Jenna had walked through those front doors countless times, but today they seemed more imposing, as if her secrets had somehow made the threshold higher.
“I’m still struggling with the need to explain how we found people imprisoned underground without mentioning that a dead man told me where to look,” Jenna told Jake.
His mouth quirked up at one corner.“We’ll figure it out,” he said.“We always do.”
Inside, the station hummed with the controlled chaos that always followed a major case breaking.Officers moved with purpose through the corridors, their voices creating a steady undercurrent of sound punctuated by ringing phones and the soft whir of printers.The air smelled of coffee.
Deputy Miller nodded at Jenna as she passed his desk.“Sheriff, they’re waiting for you in the conference room.”
Jenna nodded her thanks and continued down the hallway, Jake a half-step behind her.The conference room door stood ajar, voices spilling out into the corridor.
“—unprecedented opportunity to dismantle their entire operation,” a voice Jenna didn’t recognize was saying as she pushed the door open.
Colonel Chadwick Spelling stood at the head of the conference table, his posture ramrod straight.Beside him stood a man Jenna had never seen before—tall, with close-cropped gray hair and eyes the color of winter sky, piercing and cold.
“Sheriff Graves,” Spelling said, his voice carrying the formal tone it always did in official settings.“Deputy Hawkins.Thank you for joining us.”
Jenna nodded, taking the seat across from the stranger.Jake settled beside her, his shoulder a reassuring presence against hers.
“Sheriff, Deputy, this is Special Agent Hugh Cody,” Spelling continued.“He heads the FBI team investigating the Harvesters.”
Cody didn’t smile as he extended his hand across the table, first to Jenna, then to Jake.His grip was firm, his palm dry.
“Sheriff Graves.I’ve heard a lot about you.”His gaze was evaluating, measuring.“Your reputation precedes you.”
“I hope that’s a good thing, Agent Cody,” Jenna replied, meeting his eyes without flinching.
“That remains to be seen.”Cody’s voice was neutral, but there was a subtle edge beneath the words.
He turned away, tapping a remote.The screen on the wall was illuminated with a map dotted with red pins stretching across Missouri, Arkansas, Illinois, and Iowa.
“The Harvesters have been operating in the Midwest for approximately eight years,” Cody began, his crisp baritone filling the room.“We’ve confirmed twenty-seven abductions connected to their operation, though we suspect the actual number is significantly higher.”
