Page 23 of In Her Shadow

He shook his head, a gesture born more of confusion than negation.“This was just like any other morning, till it wasn’t,” he murmured, lost in the maze of his recollections.

Jake leaned forward.His voice, though soft, carried the precision of a detective honed by years of navigating the darker alleys of human nature.“Deke, do you have any idea how the killer might have gotten to Roger?”

After a considerable pause, Deke spoke with a weary resignation.“Well, it’s no mystery, really.Roger liked to sit out on the porch swing late every night.Pretty much everybody in the area knew that.Sometimes neighbors came by to visit.But someone … else … must have come up while he was out there.”

The image of Roger Bates, alone on a porch swing under the vast Missouri sky, was easy enough to conjure.Jenna pictured him there, a solitary figure, unwittingly making himself a target.She felt a cold shiver despite the warmth of the morning light that was now spilling into the kitchen.

“Deke, can you think of anyone who might have wanted to harm Roger?Any enemies, recent arguments?”Jenna asked, her tone deliberately neutral as she prodded for information.

“Roger was well-liked, Sheriff.You know that as well as I do.I can’t imagine...”Deke’s voice trailed off, and he lapsed into a pensive silence.Jenna waited patiently, giving him space to gather his thoughts.

His brow furrowed deeply, and Jenna noted the flicker of recollection behind Deke’s eyes.He had remembered something, perhaps something crucial.She leaned in just a fraction in encouragement for Deke to reveal what lay on the edge of his consciousness.

“Deke, take your time,” Jenna said, her tone grounding him back to the present.“Anything you remember could help us.”

Deke squinted thoughtfully at his coffee.

“Well, there was some friction with Ethan Holbrook lately,” Deke said.“You know, that newcomer rancher whose property borders this one.Holbrook tried to buy Roger out recently.Offered a pretty penny for the land too.”He paused, the lines around his mouth deepening.“But Roger wasn’t selling, no matter the price.”

Jenna nodded with understanding.She knew that the refusal to sell wasn’t just about money—it was about heritage.The land had been Bates family possession for generations, and to Roger, it was far more than a business investment—it was his family’s legacy, their history, bound in soil and sweat.

“Holbrook didn’t take that well?”she prodded further.

“Word is,” Deke continued, “Holbrook was mighty sore about the rejection.Said something about Roger being blind to progress...that he’d regret turning down the offer.”

This new information settled uneasily in Jenna’s mind.Conflicts over land were as old as the county itself, but to murder for it?That spoke of a ruthlessness that chilled her to the core.It was a lead, though—one that could not be ignored.Ethan Holbrook, with his grand designs and thinly veiled contempt for those who opposed him, had just become a person of significant interest.

“Do you happen to know of any recent conflict between Holbrook and Clyde Simmons?”Jake asked.

Deke nodded slowly.“Now that you mention it, yeah.Clyde found cases of bovine tuberculosis on several ranches in the county, including Holbrook’s.”

Jenna remembered Rex Hartley mentioning that three of his own cattle had to be put down on that account.The implications were troubling; the disease was a serious matter for livestock and livelihoods alike.It was the kind of problem that could bring underlying tensions to a boiling point.

“Go on,” Jenna urged softly.

“Had to put down two of Holbrook’s cattle,” Deke said, his frustration evident even as he tried to maintain an even tone.“Holbrook isn’t the only one who had this problem.Most ranchers took it in stride - it happens, you know?But Holbrook...he took real offense.Insisted his cattle couldn’t possibly be infected.”

Jenna’s brows knit together as she processed the information.To be accused of poor animal husbandry was one thing, but to have your livestock forcibly culled was quite another.It was a direct blow to a rancher’s pride and financial standing, especially to someone like Holbrook, who was eager to establish a new way of doing things.

“Thank you, Deke,” Jenna said with a gentle firmness, acknowledging the pain that came with reliving these details.

When Jenna and Jake stepped back out onto the front porch, the sun had climbed higher into the sky.She could feel the warmth on her skin, a glaring divergence from the icy gloom that had seeped into her marrow.

The wide swing swayed gently behind the yellow tape that Spelling had put around that end of the porch.Jenna ducked under the tape and moved close.She saw scuff marks on the porch boards where feet had shuffled and dragged.And there it was—a small but unmistakable bloodstain on the armrest.

“Deke’s theory checks out,” she confirmed, her tone low enough that only Jake would hear.Roger Bates had been attacked here, on his own porch, a place that should have been safe—a sanctuary turned into a hunting ground.

She could almost picture the scene—the rancher, unsuspecting, enjoying the quiet of the night when violence shattered the stillness.

“Which means the killer probably knew Roger personally,” Jake’s voice brought her back to the present.“Maybe someone who Roger wouldn’t have suspected when they stopped by for a late-night chat.”

Jenna knew Jake was right.This wasn’t the work of a stranger; the intimacy of the act spoke louder than any evidence could.

The new information was fuel, igniting the analytical fire within her.Ethan Holbrook—the successful rancher, the out-of-towner who had ruffled more than a few feathers since arriving in Genesius County.He was a man with motive, and Deke’s words about Clyde Holbrook added weight to his presence in their investigation.

Jenna considered what they knew of so far: the brand, a cruel signature left behind; the personal nature of how Roger was displayed, a mockery of the grief he had endured; and then there was her dream—a whisper resounding in the sky, “The land remembers.”It was a phrase that clung to her subconscious, refusing to be dismissed as mere coincidence.

“Everything’s connected,” she murmured to herself, her resolve hardening.The killer was braiding together themes of pain, loss, and vengeance darkened by the shadows of old grudges.

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