Page 25 of In Her Grasp

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The sight of the remains in the water was profoundly disturbing - a grim testament to how six years under the watery veil could transform a person into an unrecognizable specter of their former self.

Even so, Jenna could see that a light metal chain was still wrapped around the neck of the corpse. The flesh had yielded to decay, but the cold metal resisted time’s claim, a silent marker of the man who had been. Hanging from it was a small cylindrical piece of metal. Perhaps it had once held a personal trinket of some kind.

Although she was sure they had found Clive Carroway that chain might help with a legal identification. Jenna wasted no time snapping a picture of it with her cellphone.

Carl Reeves seemed badly shaken. “Never had to deal with anything like this before,” he said. “Not quite sure how to handle something that … uh, likely to fall apart.”

“I see you’ve got a fishnet under one of the seats,” Jake noted.

Carl grumbled in assent. He pulled out a wide fishnet net and worked it around the remains of the body. “Guess that will help get most of it to shore,” he commented.

The motorboat’s engine hummed softly as he moved the boat slowly toward the water’s edge, tugging the body behind. Jenna spotted Paul Rauer’s figure waiting there. He had walked along the reservoir bank to check on their search.

As the bow scraped the dried-up shoreline, Jenna jumped out. The others followed, their movements deliberate, each step heavy with the weight of what they were about to do.

Paul’s face was pale, the color of old parchment, as he looked down at the macabre discovery still in the water. His role as dam operator had never prepared him for this grim tableau.

“Can’t believe this,” he said. “That’s been underwater such a long time. We never knew.”

Jenna stood by as Carl deftly spread a plastic tarp on the ground. Then, he and Paul spoke together about how to handle their task. A decision made, they moved the tarp into the water and edged it beneath the human bones held loosely together by the fishnet.

Then the two men worked together to drag the gruesome remains onto land near the drooping branches of the willow tree, its leaves whispering mournfully in the breeze. Jenna now could see that the victim was wearing a tattered backpack that was falling to pieces. She was sure that it was once filled with stones, the same as the one that had weighed down Mike Larson’s body.

Jenna met Jake’s gaze, her own vivid green eyes flickering with the same resolve that she saw mirrored in his. Without words, they understood: this case wasn’t just about the dead—they were delving into a killer’s cold calculus.

“Let’s cover him,” Jenna said, her voice firm despite the lump in her throat. The tarp rustled sharply as they wrapped the waterlogged remains, punctuating the silence that had fallen over the group.

The body encased in blue plastic seemed almost anonymous now, but Jenna knew it was a story cut short, a life violently seized. The Sablewood Reservoir was becoming a cryptic anthology of loss. She took a moment to look at the faces of her companions, seeing the same stunned horror reflected back at her.

“Paul,” Jenna said, snapping back to the moment. “Call up Dr. Melissa Stark, the coroner. We need her team here right away.”

The dam operator nodded, though his usual stoicism was cracked by the tremor in his hands as he fumbled with hisphone. Jenna watched him step away, his shoulders hunched as if bracing against an unseen storm.

As Carl secured the last corner of the tarp, Jenna glanced at the body once more, then away, her gaze drawn irresistibly to the still waters of the reservoir. It was a perfect mirror for the sky, but beneath that serene reflection, she knew there lay more secrets waiting to be exhumed.

Jenna leaned toward Jake. “We have to drag the reservoir,” she murmured, barely above the sound of rustling leaves. “There might be more... like Larson, like this one.”

Jake’s face was a mask of grim agreement. “‘There were three of us,’” he quoted the words from her dream. “Things are going to get complicated. Should we loop in Mayor Simmons? Even though her domain is Trentville, she’ll be eager to manage publicity about something like this anywhere in the county.”

Jenna shook her head. The thought of the mayor’s reaction—her political dance around the truth—was enough to steer her decision. This was not a time for bureaucracy or fear of scandal. And the last thing she wanted was for the mayor to try to stop their search altogether, and she was afraid she would do just that.

“No, I’ll handle it,” Jenna said. “I’ll talk to Spelling directly.”

“Do you think he’ll approve of this kind of operation?” Jake said.

Jake’s raised eyebrow mirrored her own doubts about Colonel Spelling’s willingness to stir the waters—literally and figuratively. And she had no concrete reason to think there was a third body except a ghost in a dream telling her, “There are three of us.” It wasn’t something she could tell Spelling. But Jenna raised her cellphone.

“It’s up to me to persuade him,” she affirmed, the edge in her tone cutting through any semblance of doubt. She signaled hernext move with a nod toward Carl and Rauer, who were just out of earshot.

“Keep them busy for a few minutes. Start preparing them for the task ahead.”

Jake’s compliance was immediate, his voice rising just enough to draw the attention of their companions as he began a technical discussion on dragging techniques. Jenna turned slightly away, allowing the hushed conversation to become white noise against the backdrop of her task.

She pressed the call button, the line connecting with an urgency that matched her pulse.

“Spelling,” came the prompt answer, authoritative and imbued with a measured curiosity. Jenna cleared her throat, grounding herself in the gravity of her role.

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