Page 13 of In Her Grasp

She thought that benign neglect alone might have created the setting for Hilda Thornton’s belief in ghosts in the attic. It was an atmosphere ripe for conjuring tales of the supernatural, yet Jenna’s skepticism still held firm.

Her gaze shifted to Frank, whose expression was akin to amusement. His eyes held hers for a moment, gray and steady, as if to say he knew the script of small-town superstitions all toowell. Jake was gazing around casually, as if nothing here seemed at all odd to him.

“So where’s this ghost you need to have evicted?” Frank asked the window.

“Up there,” Hilda whispered. Standing well away from it, she pointed to a simple wooden panel door, aged and painted over one time too many.

Jenna’s gaze shifted to Frank, whose expression was unreadable yet edged with something akin to amusement. Jenna opened that door, and the stairwell yawned open before them, narrow and steep, with steps worn down by generations of treading feet. Jenna took the lead, and Frank and Jake followed. Each step they took raised whispers from the old wood—a creaky chorus accompanying their climb.

Then they heard a sound, the faintest patter of movement, a sporadic rustling that might have been dismissed as the house settling—if not for the expectant tension that drew their eyes upward. The noise was too deliberate, too rhythmic for mere coincidence.

“Animals, maybe?” Jake suggested from behind her, his voice betraying curiosity.

“Could be,” Jenna responded, her tone even. Yet, her mind raced with possibilities, from the mundane to the inexplicable. As Sheriff in Genesis county, she’d encountered her fair share of oddities that defied easy explanation.

She reached the top of the staircase, stepping into semi-darkness that blanketed the attic, only a scant light filtering through a small vent. Jenna switched on the flashlight of her cellphone, the beam lending an otherworldly shimmer to the air. They were enveloped in quiet, broken only by the subtle disturbances that revealed something lurking nearby.

Jenna scanned the area methodically, her eyes darting from one detail to the next—here, scuffs in the dust that spoke ofrecent disturbance; there, a patch of insulation that seemed out of place, as if clawed at. She heard nothing at all, and wondered if her companions were both holding their breath.

The stillness was suddenly broken by a rustling noise to their right, pulling their focus towards a corner where decades of discarded memories gathered dust. Jenna held up a hand, signaling Frank and Jake to cease any movement. Her heart beat a steady rhythm, not from fear but from the thrill of the unknown that always accompanied such moments.

“Stay back,” she instructed softly, her voice barely above a whisper. Years of training had honed her ability to move silently, to blend into her surroundings until she became just another shade in the darkness. She crept forward, her every sense sharpening as she closed in on the source of the sound. As she approached the corner, the noise grew more distinct—a shuffling, scratching sound that suggested something alive and restless.

Jenna crouched low, minimizing her silhouette against the dim backdrop of the attic. Her eyes never left the spot where the sounds emanated, her body poised to react.

Then she saw a movement. An old quilt hunched up and down as somebody or something changed position beneath it.

There was a tension in the air, a charged expectancy that filled the space between each of Jenna’s shallow breaths. Whatever was lurking in Hilda Thornton’s attic was about to be unmasked.

Jenna extended her arm, muscles tensed for any sudden movement. The shadows seemed to cling to the hidden inhabitant of the attic, as if complicit in its concealment. Taking a deep breath, she readied herself, taking hold of the edge of the old quilt that was draped over an unseen form. With a practiced flick of her wrist, the fabric flew upward.

Two dark eyes stared angrily back at her.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The angry glare was short-lived as the creature staring at Jenna turned away and scrambled off through the maze of boxes.

“A racoon,” Jenna announced as she straightened up, watching the animal disappear into another dark corner.

“Seems our ghost has fur and a taste for solitude,” Jenna remarked dryly, turning to see Hilda Thornton standing on the stairs peering toward the activity, her hands clasped together as if in prayer. Frank and Jake stood by, both looking like they were trying hard not to break out in laughter.

“Goodness, Sheriff Graves, I’m so sorry for all the fuss,” Hilda murmured, her face flushing a gentle rose. “I just didn’t know what to think, hearing all that racket and being here all alone.”

“Nothing to worry about, Mrs. Thornton,” Jenna reassured her. “Raccoons are curious creatures. This one likely came in through a loose vent or a gap in the eaves. Getting him out safely is a job for Paws and Harmony Rescue. They’ll make sure your uninvited guest finds a new home away from yours,”

“Thank you, dear,” Hilda replied, her earlier panic replaced with gratitude.

“Hilda,” Frank said, “how about I come by tomorrow and help you secure your attic against future intruders?”

Hilda Thornton looked up at him. “Oh, Frank, would you? I’d feel so much better knowing everything was buttoned up tight.”

“Of course,” he replied. “I’ll collect some materials and give you a phone call before I head over.”

Jenna felt a pang of affection for the man who had taught her almost everything she knew about being a sheriff. He had always been there, a steady presence in the personal turmoil thathad gnawed at her since Piper vanished. Frank balanced the line between law enforcers and compassionate human beings with an ease that she admired.

As the group made their way back down the narrow staircase, Jenna pulled out her phone and dialed Dr. Sarah Reynolds at Paws and Harmony Rescue. The call connected, and she kept her explanation brief, laying out the situation with the raccoon and Hilda’s need for assistance.

“Jenna, don’t worry, we’ll dispatch a team immediately,” Sarah’s voice crackled through the reception, efficient and professional.

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