Page 5 of In Her Shadow

Jenna crouched beside Melissa, her gaze tracing the outline of the brand.It wasn’t just any tree; it reminded her of the ancient oaks that dotted the landscape around Trentville, guardians of secrets and silent witnesses to the passage of time.This symbol, however, wasn’t a homage to their beauty—it was a harbinger of something sinister.

“Never seen anything like it,” Jenna murmured.A brand was a claim, a statement, a signature—all things that would be vital to unwrap the mystery of Clyde Simmons’ demise.Her intuition, so often a whisper in her mind, felt muted beside the tangible evidence before her.

“Cause of death?”Jenna’s question cut through the heavy silence that enveloped the crime scene.

Melissa Stark paused, her gloved hand hovering just above the gruesome brand.“It’s not straightforward,” she replied, her voice tinged with the frustration that came from uncertainty.“There’s a blow to the back of the head, but it doesn’t appear severe enough to be fatal.”Her fingers traced the edge of the wound, then pulled away to gesture towards the darkened flesh emblazoned with the stylized tree.“No other obvious wounds except...”

Jenna’s professional facade held firm, though inside her thoughts raced.The blow to the head could suggest an altercation, but if it wasn’t fatal, what had ended this man’s life?

She stood, dust clinging to the knees of her uniform as she contemplated the cruelty of such a mark.Jenna knew that every detail mattered, each a potential key in understanding not just how Clyde Simmons died, but why.

“Any theories?”she pressed further, locking eyes with Melissa.

Melissa hesitated, the lines around her eyes deepening as she contemplated her next words.“I do have a theory,” she finally said, her voice low, almost reluctant.She glanced up at Jenna, a silent apology in her eyes for the foreboding nature of her impending revelation.“But you’re not going to like hearing it.”

CHAPTER THREE

Jenna stood motionless, waiting to hear the Genesius County Coroner’s theory.Kneeling beside the corpse, Melissa Stark stared up at Jenna, her face drawn and pale within the confines of her protective hood.Jenna wondered why she was hesitating.

Then Melissa Stark got to her feet, her hazmat suit crinkling with every slight movement.Pushing off the hood and keeping her voice low, she spoke to Jenna and Jake.

“Based on the lack of other injuries and the expression...”Melissa’s voice trailed off as she gestured to the contorted features frozen on the victim’s face.Jenna looked back at the man’s face again.The corners of his mouth were pulled back in a rictus grimace, his eyes wide with a horror that seemed to transcend death itself.

“I think he likely died from the sheer pain and terror,” Melissa continued, her professional calm fraying at the edges.

Jenna felt a cold shiver course through her despite the morning sun warming her back.It was a chilling assessment, one that drew a dark line between this moment and the countless crime scenes she had overseen in her four years as sheriff.

“Pain and terror,” Jenna echoed, glancing at the expression on Jake’s face.His features reflected little of what he might be feeling at that moment, but he reached out to steady her arm.

Jenna turned her attention to the darkened brand that marred the man’s chest—a twisted tree design etched into his flesh.

Staring down at the brand, she again noted the way each branch tapered to a fine point and how the roots interlaced in an almost ritualistic pattern.This wasn’t the mark of some hastily improvised tool; the branding iron had been custom-made.It revealed a level of premeditation that transformed this act of violence into something even more sinister, something methodical.Whoever did this had planned it, had designed their mark with a specific purpose in mind, and had left it in the most permanent and painful way imaginable.

“Any idea on the meaning of the tree design?”she asked Melissa.

“It doesn’t connect with anything we’ve found so far,” the coroner replied.

Jenna watched as Melissa Stark kneeled by the body again, she and her team working with grim efficiency, marking evidence and taking photographs.

“Symbolic, or maybe a calling card,” Jake Hawkins mused.“Either way, it’s distinctive.If there have been any similar cases, we should be able to find them.”

The coroner’s words still echoed in Jenna’s ears, painting a visceral picture of the victim’s final moments.“Sheer pain and terror” as a murder weapon was something new to her.She could almost feel the pervasive fear that must have clutched at the victim’s heart, a fear so intense it killed as effectively as any blade.A calling card—a concept both terrifying and vital.If this was indeed a message, what was it intended to convey?And to whom?

“Melissa,” Jenna said, her resolve hardening, “I’ll need a full tox screen.We need to know what we’re dealing with.”

“You’ll get anything you need,” Melissa said.“Once we get the body to the autopsy room, it’ll get a full workup.”

Jenna followed the coroner’s movements, her eyes tracking the precise collection of samples.She stepped closer to the marked earth where the body lay, careful not to disturb the scene.Her gaze drifted once more to the grotesque mark seared into the flesh.

“And I want a detailed analysis of that brand,” she added to Melissa.“The material used, depth of the burn, anything that might tell us about the tool used or the person wielding it.”

Melissa glanced up and nodded, already instructing her team to collect additional swabs and measurements.

Jenna stood still for a moment, the chaos of forensic activity buzzing around her.She watched as the team, with practiced efficiency, swarmed over the area, collecting samples, photographing evidence, measuring distances.Jenna trusted the coroner’s expertise implicitly.She knew she would get all the information that their current science could provide.

She wondered if she would also get information from other voices—those of the dead who sometimes visited her in her dreams.But she couldn’t control those visitations.Here, in the waking world, she relied on her keen intuition and analytical prowess to make sense of the horrors that humanity was capable of.And right now, every fiber of her being was telling her that this case would unravel into something deeply complex and disturbing.

Beyond this flurry of motion over the corpse lay the vast expanse of the pasture—an idyllic setting marred by the macabre scene at its heart.The contrasting images were jarring; the tranquil serenity of the countryside clashed with the calculated brutality inflicted upon the victim.

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