Page 8 of In Her Fears
As they walked back toward their vehicles, Jenna felt an odd weight settle over her.Without her lucid dreams, she was just another law enforcement officer offering a second opinion.Would that be enough to help Spelling?To help Teddy Rose, if he was indeed innocent?The pressure of expectation pressed on her like the oppressive August heat.
“You okay?”Jake asked quietly as they reached their car.
Jenna hesitated, then gave him a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.“Just wishing I had more to offer than standard police work on this one.”
“Hey,” Jake said, catching her elbow gently before she could open the driver’s side door.“Standard police work from you is still better than most.Dream visits or not, you’ll see something the others missed.You always do.”
Jenna nodded, not trusting herself to speak as she slid behind the wheel.She only hoped his faith wouldn’t prove misplaced.
CHAPTER THREE
The early afternoon sun beat down mercilessly as Jenna guided the patrol car through Pinecrest’s tree-lined streets.Beside her, Jake’s expression was thoughtful as they approached the Cable County Jail—a squat, institutional building of gray concrete, its small windows reinforced with wire mesh.Nothing about it suggested rehabilitation or justice—just containment.
“There’s Spelling,” Jake said, nodding toward the parking lot where the colonel’s state-issue SUV was pulling into a space.When they parked and then joined him, he greeted them, “Sheriff, Deputy.Thanks for making good time.”Nodding toward the jail, he added, “I just got a call from Morgan, who’s inside.”
“Has he cooled down at all?”Jenna asked, falling into step beside him as they headed toward the building’s entrance.
Spelling gave a short, humorless laugh.“About as much as this parking lot.”
The jail’s entrance was flanked by two uniformed officers who eyed them with suspicion as they approached.Spelling flashed his credentials, and they were buzzed through a heavy metal door, which clanged shut behind them.
The interior was all hard surfaces—concrete floors, cinder block walls painted a sickly institutional green, fluorescent lights that buzzed overhead.But at least it was cool inside.
They had barely made it ten feet when Chief Rudy Morgan emerged from a side hallway.He was a stocky man with close-cropped gray hair and the permanent tan of someone who spent considerable time outdoors.His eyes were sharp, assessing, hostile.
“Colonel,” Morgan acknowledged Spelling with a curt nod, barely glancing at Jenna and Jake.
“Chief Morgan,” Spelling replied evenly, “I believe you’ve met Sheriff Graves and Deputy Hawkins from Genesius County.”
Morgan’s gaze finally shifted to Jenna.“Sheriff,” he said with a curt nod.
“Chief,” Jenna met his gaze steadily.“Colonel Spelling thought we might provide some perspective on your case.”
“My case is pretty damn straightforward.Kid was trespassing in a cemetery after midnight, found right there with the victim.He’s changed his story twice already.First he was meeting his girlfriend, then he was just out for a walk.Couldn’t keep his lies straight.And now he’s clammed up completely.”
“His parents?”Jake asked.
“Rushed in here when I called them, but I didn’t let them put up bail.They left mad.Then their seedy lawyer arrived.Then you.Like this was a convention or something.”
“We’re just here to help, Chief,” Jenna said, keeping her tone neutral.“The sooner we can speak with Teddy Rose, the sooner we can get out of your hair.”
Morgan held her gaze for a moment, then gave a sharp nod and turned on his heel.“This way.”
He led them down a corridor lined with closed doors, his back rigid with unspoken resentment.
“Kid’s been here since 3 AM,” Morgan said over his shoulder.“Called 911 just after midnight about a body.We picked him up at the scene, brought him in for questioning.He’s been stonewalling ever since.”
“Stonewalling or exercising his right to counsel?”Jenna asked.
“His lawyer showed up around 5 AM.Eliot Willis.Been with him ever since, advising him not to talk.”
“Which is Willis’s job,” Jake pointed out.
Morgan stopped abruptly, turning to face them.“This kid is hiding something.You’ll see.”
“We’ll keep an open mind,” Jenna assured him.
They reached a door at the end of the hallway.Morgan rapped twice, then pushed it open without waiting for a response.The interrogation room beyond was small and stark—a metal table bolted to the floor, four chairs, a one-way mirror on one wall, a camera mounted in the corner.The air felt stale, as if the room had been closed up for too long.
