Page 42 of In Her Grasp

Dialing the number, Jenna set her phone to speaker but kept it close. After three rings, Tommy answered, his voice crackling through the room. “Hello?”

Jenna could hear the chug and whir of farm machinery, painting a picture of Tommy Larson in his usual habitat, amidst his sprawling fields just outside of Colstock. There was something grounding about the rhythmic sounds of rural labor, but Jenna knew better than to let it lull her into complacency.

“Tommy, it’s Jenna Graves,” she said.

The sound of machinery cut lower, then Tommy answered, an easy affability in his tone. “Hey, Sheriff Graves. What can I do for you?”

“Got a minute?” Jenna asked, her voice casual.

“Sure thing, Sheriff,” Tommy replied, unaware that he was speaking to more than just Jenna.

Jake and Frank listened intently and silently.

“Tommy,” Jenna spoke with measured calm, “I just thought I should bring you up to date on a few things. We’ve placed Carl Reeves under arrest for the murders. He tried to make a break for it in his car, but we caught up with him.”

“Carl? Arrested?” The surprise in Tommy’s voice would have sounded convincing to someone who hadn’t become adept at deciphering lies from truth.

“Yes, and it looks like we’ve found our killer. It’s thanks to you that we even considered him—you pointed out how he was part of the four-member gang until something went south.”

“Ah, well... I’m just glad I could help,” Tommy’s reply came with an undertone of satisfaction, as if he relished being seen as supportive.

“Once we get a full confession from Carl, we can finally close this case,” Jenna continued.

“Shocked to hear it was Carl, but I’m glad it’s over.” His voice held a definite note of relief.

“Is there anything else you remember that might explain why Carl left the gang? Why he turned on them?” Jenna pressed, needing to push just a little further.

“Nothing comes to mind, Sheriff. Like I said before, I was never really part of all that,” Tommy answered too quickly. “I never knew much about them.”

The air in the room seemed to grow thicker with Tommy’s lies.

“Tommy,” she pressed, her tone deliberately casual as if they were discussing the weather instead of a murder case, “you’ve been such a help with all this. I’m sure it must be hard to digest that Carl turned out like he did.”

“Y-yeah,” Tommy stammered from the other end, the faint whir of a tractor still in the background. “I just can’t believe it, you know? I can’t imagine what turned him against all of them. I was always on the outside looking in at those guys.”

Tommy’s feigned ignorance confirmed their suspicions loud and clear.

“So you were just the kid brother, right?” Jenna continued.

“Exactly,” Tommy replied quickly, too quickly. “I wasn’t allowed to hang out with them. I wasn’t part of their circle.”

Jenna’s conviction grew stronger; Tommy Larson was deeply implicated in this twisted tale. His feigned ignorance and the subtle shift in his voice all painted a picture of guilt. But what were Jenna and her colleagues going to do about it?

A tactic began to take shape in her mind—something she was going to have to attempt without taking time to think it through, or to discuss it with Jake and Frank even as they sat here listening. She had to launch into it blindly and hope not to make some fatal mistake. All she knew for sure was that it had to begin with a lie.

“There is another reason I’m contacting you,” she said. “Right after we picked up Carl, someone called into the station. Said we got the wrong guy.”

“Really?” Tommy’s voice hitched ever so slightly, a crack in his composure.

“Yes,” Jenna affirmed. “They insisted that Tommy Larson could explain it all. Now, why do you think someone would say that?”

The line was silent for a heartbeat too long. Jenna’s grip on the phone tightened as she heard the sharp intake of breath from the other end of the line. Jake and Frank leaned forward, breathless with expectation at whatever this was Jenna was up to. She could only hope that she was on the verge of breaking the case wide open, using a spontaneous ruse woven from experience and intuition. Tommy’s next words could very well determine the course of their investigation.

“Who was the caller?” There was a veneer of calm in Tommy’s query, but Jenna could detect the underlying note of alarm.

“It was anonymous,” Jenna stated. “But since he mentioned your name, I figured you should know about it.”

“Anonymous?” Tommy repeated the word edged with skepticism. “I don’t see why someone would drag me into this. What else did they say?”

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