Page 37 of In Her Dreams
“But nothing we’ve seen in the last few months contradicts it,” Jake finished for her.
He stared out the passenger window.“I thought I’d seen everything in Kansas City.Gangs, drugs, corruption.Unfortunately, those are ordinary human activities.But this place...”He trailed off.“There’s something different about the darkness here.”
They fell silent again as Jenna turned onto Jake’s street, pulling up in front of his modest home.The porch light glowed welcome.
Jake unbuckled his seatbelt but didn’t immediately move to leave.The air between them seemed to thicken with unspoken words.
Jenna found herself remembering the simple kiss he’d placed on her cheek days earlier—the warmth of his lips, the gentleness of the gesture.Against her better judgment, she found herself wishing he might repeat it tonight.And maybe then she would …
But the moment stretched and thinned, and finally Jake reached for the door handle.
“Get some rest,” he said, his voice low.“Tomorrow we need to figure out what connects Winters and Palmer beyond just being Walsh’s patients.”
“I will,” she promised, though rest seemed unlikely.“Good night, Jake.”
He nodded, stepping out into the night.“Night, Jenna.”
She watched him walk to his front door, turning only once to wave before disappearing inside.The porch light flicked off moments later, leaving Jenna alone in the dark car.
With a sigh, she put the vehicle in drive, but she wasn’t ready to head home yet.She glanced at the dashboard clock and decided it wasn’t too late for the one more stop she wanted to make tonight.
As she drove through the sleeping town, Jenna couldn’t shake the feeling that the darkness Frank’s grandmother had spoken of wasn’t just awake—it was hungry.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Jenna guided her cruiser through the streets of Trentville, the familiar contours of her hometown blurring slightly at the edges of her vision.She felt tired from that tense meeting with Mayor Simmons, but she wasn’t ready to head home yet.Her mother’s house wasn’t far, and Jenna needed to check on her, see how she was doing.
The houses she passed stood in neat rows, their windows glowing amber against the purple dusk.As she approached her childhood home, Jenna felt the weight of all she couldn’t say, alongside all she desperately needed to understand.
Her headlights swept across the modest two-story house where she had grown up, catching the reflection of fresh paint on the shutters.Since her mother had stopped drinking, small improvements had appeared around the property—pruned rosebushes, swept walkways, a repaired porch step that had creaked for years.Each change was modest, but collectively they spoke volumes.
Warm light spilled from the windows, casting long rectangles across the lawn.Her mother was awake, perhaps reading or working on one of the puzzles she’d taken to doing since joining AA.Jenna killed the engine and sat for a moment, gathering her thoughts.She’d need to be careful about what she shared regarding the recent case—some details were too heavy to burden her recovering mother with.
When she got out of the car and made her way up the walkway, the door swung open before she could knock.
“I saw your headlights,” Margaret Graves said, stepping aside.“Come on in before you let all the bugs inside.”
Jenna stepped into the entryway and was immediately struck by a subtle but noticeable change in the air.
“You’ve been cleaning,” she observed, following her mother into the living room.“And...is that lavender?”
Margaret nodded, adjusting her reading glasses.“Essential oil diffuser.My sponsor says scents can help reprogram the mind’s associations with places.”She gave a small, self-conscious shrug.“Sounds like new age nonsense, but I like how it smells, so why not?”
Her mother settled back into her armchair, a dog-eared paperback novel face-down on the armrest beside her.Jenna took in the sight before her—Margaret’s face had filled out, the hollows beneath her cheekbones less pronounced.Her eyes, once perpetually bloodshot and evasive, now met Jenna’s with clear purpose.Even her posture seemed different—straighter, more present.
“You look good, Mom,” Jenna said, lowering herself onto the couch across from her mother.
Margaret’s lips curved into a hint of a smile.“Some days are better than others.”She studied Jenna’s face.“You, on the other hand, look exhausted.Is it this case I’ve been hearing about?The mine?”
Jenna nodded, choosing her words carefully.“We managed to rescue two victims who were being held by a group that goes by the name of Harvesters.”
“That’s what they’re calling them now?Those organ traffickers?”Margaret’s voice held a mixture of disgust and disbelief.“Is that what’s keeping you up at night?”
“Partly,” Jenna admitted.She deliberately omitted any mention of the lucid dream that had guided her to the mine’s location, or the unsettling moment when one of the victims had looked at her with recognition, possibly mistaking her for Piper.She also couldn’t tell her about the mysterious deaths of Richard Winters and Anita Palmer.Some things were too complicated, too raw to share, even with—especially with—her mother.
“Well, I’m glad to hear you saved those people,” Margaret said.“That must feel good, knowing you made a difference.”Her voice softened.“Your father would have been proud.”
Jenna nodded, swallowing against the sudden tightness in her throat.“How about you?How are things going...with the program?”
