Page 10 of In Her Shadow

To her left, a sweeping staircase wound upwards, its banister a dark ribbon of carved oak.Every surface, every corner spoke of affluence and order—the kind of environment that Jenna knew could suffocate just as easily as it could shelter.

“Please, this way.”Claire said harshly as she led them into what appeared to be a sitting room.The space was no less impressive; deep burgundy drapes framed tall windows that bathed the room in natural light, while plush velvet sofas invited conversation or contemplation.

Jenna took note of the heavy desk that dominated one corner of the room, its surface a symbol of Claire’s role as mayor—with documents neatly arrayed next to a silver pen set.There were personal touches too—a candid photo of a younger Claire laughing with a man Jenna recognized to be Clyde, and a small stack of books with titles that hinted at political aspirations beyond Trentville—aspirations that Jenna was sure the mayor had put behind her, perhaps reluctantly.

“Sit,” Claire commanded, gesturing to the sofas as she took a high-backed chair across from them, her posture impeccable, the epitome of controlled composure.Jenna eased herself onto the edge of a sofa, straight-backed and alert, ready to navigate the delicate procedure of extracting information without causing further offense.

“Thank you for agreeing to speak with us, Mayor,” Jenna began, her voice carrying the same professional cadence she used at crime scenes—calm, collected, seeking facts amid chaos.

Jenna observed a subtle shift in Mayor Simmons’s demeanor, a fleeting glimpse of vulnerability before the mask of authority snapped back into place.Claire’s hands, usually still, betrayed a slight tremor that she quickly stilled by clasping them tightly together on her lap.

“Mayor Simmons,” Jenna spoke with a compassion she reserved for victims and their families, “we need to ask you some questions about Clyde.Anything you can tell us might help us find who did this.”

The room seemed to contract as Claire’s composure cracked.For an instant, her carefully curated exterior wavered, revealing the raw pain of a sister grappling with loss.But as quickly as it appeared, the moment passed, and Claire smoothed the crease between her brows.

“Of course,” Claire replied, her voice steadying with effort.“I understand.Clyde...he could be difficult.”The words were heavy with unspoken history.

“Difficult?”Jenna prodded gently.

Claire sighed.“Well, as you must know, Clyde didn’t make many friends, particularly not among the local ranchers.His...dedication to his work often put him at odds with those people.”

“His work,” Jenna echoed, aware of Clyde’s rigid standards as a meat inspector.

“Yes,” Claire continued, her gaze drifting toward the window as if seeking solace from the daylight streaming through.“And after Myra left him, it only got worse.”She fell quiet, looking down for a long moment.Then she added, “He started drinking.At first, just at home.Alone.”Claire’s voice was tinged with regret, each word measured and deliberate.“Like me, he had only been a social drinker, taking sips when it seemed necessary at certain occasions.But then...he’d started spending nearly every night at the Centaur’s Den.I suppose he sought some kind of twisted comfort there.”

Jenna noted the admission, the pattern of a man unraveling.She thought of the troubled individuals she had encountered over the years, those who spiraled downward where alcohol became both crutch and curse—her own mother included.It was a path that too often led to dark alleys of despair or violent confrontations.Clyde’s fate, it appeared, might well have been paved by this tragic progression.

A silence fell, and Jenna gave space for Claire’s confession to settle.She could almost feel the weight of the unsaid, the stories hidden behind this mansion’s closed doors, and the whispers that swirled around the Centaur’s Den.If Clyde had become a fixture there, a constant presence in the dim light of the bar—that could be where he’d attracted trouble.

Jake leaned forward, his notebook ready.“Where do you think Clyde was last night?”he asked.“

Claire Simmons’ gaze seemed to drift to a place far beyond the walls of her immaculate office, to memories perhaps clouded by regret or sorrow.

“He called me around nine from the Centaur’s Den,” she said, her words slow and weighted.“Said he was having a drink, wanted to talk.”A pause lingered, filled with unspoken thoughts, before she continued.“He didn’t sound sober, and I was busy with work, told him I’d call back later.”Her voice, usually so controlled, wavered and broke.“I never did.”

The room felt smaller then, as if the air had been sucked out, leaving behind an oppressive silence.Jenna’s heart clenched at the mayor’s confession—regret was a familiar companion, one that sat endlessly upon her own shoulders.She offered a silent nod of understanding, though no words of comfort came; what solace could be found in the face of such irreversible loss?

As they prepared to leave, Claire stood up, her demeanor transformed, her spine straightening as if pulling strength from the very foundations of her stately home.“I’m calling for a town meeting tonight at City Hall,” she declared.

A surge of alarm shot through Jenna.Although this was typically the mayor’s response when she was upset, a public assembly could raise more questions than answers.It could incite fear, or worse, hinder their investigation with rampant speculation.It was the last thing they needed right now.But could Jenna talk the mayor out of it?

CHAPTER SIX

Jenna knew the dangers of too much information too soon; panic could spread faster than wildfire through a tight-knit community like Trentville.

“Mayor,” she said hastily as she and Jake stood to go, “I don’t think that calling a meeting would be wise.We’re still in the early stages of the investigation, and—”

Claire cut her off with an imperious wave of her hand.“This isn’t up for discussion, Sheriff,” she declared.“The people need to know what’s happening, and they need to hear it from me.”

“Surely you understand the danger of starting a panic.”

“The meeting will happen, with or without your approval.And I expect you to be there.”The mayor’s voice carried the weight of her office, leaving no room for debate.

Jenna met Claire’s gaze squarely, her mind calculating the implications this meeting would have on their case.But she recognized the futility of arguing with a woman who wielded her power with the confidence of a seasoned general, especially now that she was angry and distraught.

“Understood, Mayor,” Jenna said briskly.“We will be there.”

With that, Jenna and Jake both turned and left the mayor’s grandiose home.With a quiet click, the door closed behind them, sealing away the world of politics and power plays.But Jenna knew they would have to deal with whatever would be stirred up by the mayor’s impending actions.

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