Page 24 of In Her Dreams
“Thank you, Cassie,” Jenna said, rising from the couch.“This helps.”
Cassie stood as well, her numerous bracelets jingling.“Wait.”She disappeared down a hallway, returning moments later with a small cloth bag.“Protective herbs,” she explained, pressing it into Jenna’s palm.“Rosemary, sage, and a bit of bayberry.Just...humor me, okay?”
The sincerity in her friend’s eyes made Jenna’s reflexive denial die on her lips.Instead, she tucked the sachet into her pocket.“Thanks.”
As they made their way to the door, Cassie caught Jenna’s arm.“Be careful,” she said, her voice low enough that Jake, a few steps ahead, couldn’t hear.“Whatever’s happening...it feels wrong.Not just bad, but fundamentally wrong.”
Jenna squeezed her friend’s hand.“I know.”
Back in the car, Jake waited until they were halfway down the block before speaking.“So.She’s saying it’s mishandled … what … magic?”
“Focus on what’s useful,” Jenna replied.“These hangings are deliberately constructed to reference the victims’ phobias.That’s not coincidence.”
“No,” Jake agreed.“That’s premeditation.”
They drove in silence to the station, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across the road.Jenna’s mind raced, connecting and disconnecting fragments of information, searching for patterns.
At the station, Jenna pulled out her phone and dialed the Ethnology Department at Ozark State University.After being transferred twice, she finally reached Dr.Summers’ teaching assistant, who, after some persuasion, agreed to squeeze her in for a late afternoon appointment.
“I need you to stay here,” she told Jake as she gathered her things.“Keep tabs on Cody and his team.See if they’re making any progress.”
Jake nodded, his face serious.“What about the connection between Winters and Palmer?Want me to dig?”
“Yes.School records, social circles, church membership—anything that might link them.And check if either of them traveled recently or took up any new hobbies or practices.”
“You got it.”Jake hesitated.“You sure you don’t want company for the drive to Pinecrest?”
Jenna shook her head.“I need you here.Besides, I could use the time to think.”
The drive to Pinecrest after Jenna dropped Jake off at the station took just under an hour, the familiar Ozark landscape sliding past her window.Fields gave way to more densely wooded areas, the road winding through hills that had stood sentinel for millennia.Jenna welcomed the solitude, using the time to mentally review the case from every angle.
Two victims.Two phobias.Two dreamcatchers designed to evoke those specific fears.The pieces were there, but the picture they formed remained frustratingly unclear.
As the outskirts of Pinecrest came into view, Jenna glanced at her rearview mirror.Somewhere in this academic enclave was Dr.Olivia Summers, an expert in ethnology who might hold the key to understanding the strange dreamcatchers—and by extension, the deaths that seemed linked to them.
Jenna adjusted her grip on the steering wheel, determination hardening within her.Whatever connection existed between Richard Winters and Anita Palmer, whatever significance the twisted dreamcatchers held, she would find it.
CHAPTER NINE
Jenna squinted against the afternoon sunlight as it bounced off the red brick buildings of Ozark State University.The academic quadrangle stretched before her, students crisscrossing the pathways, some in a rush, others just strolling along.She checked her watch—she was right on time for her appointment with Dr.Olivia Summers.
The Anthropology Department was housed in Blackwell Hall, a stately building with columns flanking its entrance and ivy climbing determinedly up its eastern wall.Jenna hurried up the worn stone steps and through the main doorway.She passed a bulletin board teeming with colorful flyers—study abroad opportunities, guest lecturers, departmental announcements—before consulting the directory.Dr.Summers’ office was on the third floor.
As she climbed the stairs, Jenna’s thoughts drifted to the Pinecrest Police Chief.Their last encounter had led to jurisdictional tensions that she didn’t want to repeat.She hoped her visit to the University campus would go unnoticed by Chief Rudy Morgan.The last thing any investigation needed was a pissing contest between departments.
The third-floor hallway was quiet, lined with closed doors bearing nameplates and office hours.Academic cartoons decorated the bulletin boards, jokes that required at least a master’s degree to fully appreciate.She stopped before a door with a wooden plaque reading “Dr.Olivia Summers, Ph.D.– Professor of Ethnology.”A strip of paper was taped beneath it, listing office hours and a scrawled note: “Knock LOUDLY.”
Jenna rapped firmly against the wood.
“Come in,” a voice called from within, muffled but confident.
The office that greeted Jenna was evidence of copious academic research.Bookshelves lined every available wall, laden with volumes ranging from ancient leather-bound tomes to glossy modern paperbacks.Papers were stacked on nearly every surface, yet there seemed to be a system to their arrangement.
Behind a desk that appeared to be an island in a sea of that organized chaos sat Dr.Olivia Summers.Her appearance was a study in contrasts—intelligent eyes set in a face framed by hair that had partially escaped its bun, an expensive blouse marred by what looked like a fresh coffee stain near the collar.She looked up at Jenna with an expression of wary curiosity.
“Dr.Summers?I’m Sheriff Jenna Graves from Genesius County.”Jenna extended her hand across the desk.I phoned and your teaching assistant gave me this time for an appointment.”
“Sheriff?That’s unexpected.My T.A.just mentioned an urgent matter that was related to my field of expertise.”
