Page 7 of In Her Shadow

“Thank you,” Miguel replied.“But I’ve got other duties … and no one else is doing my job.”With a few parting words and an offer to help however he could, Miguel took his leave.

Jenna prepared to delve into the difficult conversations that lay ahead.“Let’s walk back,” she suggested.“We need to talk to the family that lives on this farm.”

As they retraced their steps across the pasture, Jake asked, “What do you think about Miguel?”

“I don’t think he killed the man,” Jenna replied.“At least I don’t see any sign in him that would favor a method like branding to dispatch an enemy.To kill with fear and pain must require a special mentality.Or a lack of some ordinary human quality.”

“Agreed,” Jake replied.“Do you think he’s told us everything he knows?”

“At this point, I can’t be sure about that,” Jenna mused.“But we have way too many questions: Why here?Why now?And why Clyde Simmons?”

“And is there going to be another one like this?”Jake added.

CHAPTER FOUR

Jenna and Jake retraced their steps to the crime scene and then beyond.They crossed a smaller pasture where cattle had clustered on the far side, looking a bit nervous at the commotion they could hear.Then the house materialized from behind a group of trees, a modest building showing no sign of the turmoil that had invaded its serenity.

Jenna took in the neat yard, the white-painted house, the porch swing moving gently in the breeze, as if unaffected by the violence that had stained the land so close by.The porch creaked under her boots, a subtle reminder of the enduring history etched into the Hartleys’ farmhouse.

The screen door swung open before they could knock, revealing Rex Hartley, his posture as rigid as the aged timbers supporting the roof overhang.His expression was a landscape of sorrow and concern, weathered by years of sun and strain.

“Sheriff,” he greeted, offering a curt nod to Jenna and a glance towards Jake.“Deputy.Wish we were meeting under better circumstances.”

Jenna met his gaze squarely, noting how the lines on his face seemed to deepen with the gravity of the situation.Beside him, Adele Hartley hovered, wringing her hands in a dish towel, eyes wide with shock that hadn’t yet found its voice.

“Mr.and Mrs.Hartley,” Jenna began, tipping her hat out of respect for their plight and the inevitability of the questions she had come to ask.“We’d appreciate it if we could talk to you about … what happened.”

The Hartleys’ weary nods acknowledged that the sanctuary they’d known had been forever breached.

“Would it be alright if we talked inside?”she asked, gesturing into the house.Although they had been strangers until today, empathy laced her voice; she knew that this family could well be unwitting characters in a narrative that had thrust them into the harsh glare of suspicion.

The Hartleys stepped aside, granting passage into the heart of their home—into the sort of intimate space where the personal meets the professional in an investigation.Jenna took off her hat as they entered, and Jake did the same.

With each step across the threshold, Jenna felt the presence of the unseen, the unspoken truths that hung in the air like dust motes in sunlight.The warmth of the interior provided no solace from the chilling task.She could sense Jake’s supportive presence just behind her, ready to tread the delicate balance between interrogation and understanding.

As they entered the living room from the dimly-lit hallway, the space was revealed to be plain but comfortably decorated.The walls were adorned with an array of family photos, capturing memories and milestones frozen in time.The furniture was arranged in a cozy cluster, all facing towards a large television at the center of the room.A wide fireplace on one side indicated that even winter nights would be cozy here.It seemed to be a warm and inviting space.

“Would anyone like coffee?Or tea?”Adele asked.

When Jenna and Jake declined, Adele silently invited Jake and Jenna to sit down and make themselves comfortable.Then Adele took a seat, and so did her husband.She and her husband exchanged a solemn glance before the tale of their disrupted peace unfolded.

“Mr.and Mrs.Hartley,” Jenna began, not without empathy, “I’m sorry to have to ask this, but where were you last night?”

Adele looked to her husband, seeking silent reassurance as Rex’s furrowed brow betrayed the weight of the inquiry.“We were here at home, Sheriff,” he answered.“Just the two of us.Adele wasn’t feeling well, so we turned in early.”

Jenna nodded, her mind ticking over the details.It was hardly an alibi, but something in Rex’s steady gaze told her he wasn’t their man.There were lines that even a hardened rancher wouldn’t cross, and murder was one of those lines.In any case, it seemed unlikely that any rancher would commit an act like the one they had just reviewed on their own property, certainly not so close to their home.

Jenna studied Rex Hartley, seeking any other information in the lines of his face—those marked by sun and sorrow.“Can you tell me about your relationship with Clyde Simmons?”she asked, her voice probing.

Rex exhaled a burdened sigh, his hands betraying years of labor as one found its way through his thinning hair.“Like most ranchers around here, it was...strained,” he admitted.His gaze drifted past Jenna, to a place of recollection painted with discomfort.“Clyde could be difficult, especially lately.Ever since his wife left him a few months back, he’d been...different.”There was an edge to his voice, a hint of something unresolved that lingered like a bad taste.

Jenna noted the veiled pain, mindful of the man’s struggle to deal with all these events.

Adele leaned forward, her presence gentle but her words laced with concern.“There were rumors he’d started drinking,” she said.Her eyes sought Jenna’s, imploring her to understand the full picture.“Rex thought he smelled liquor on Clyde’s breath during inspections.”

“Was there a specific issue that came up between you during his last visit?”Jake asked.

Rex’s dark eyebrows furrowed in a mix of frustration and reluctance as he nodded.“He demanded that three of my prized cattle be put down, accusing them of being diseased.”His voice carried a hint of anger and disbelief.“I tried to question his judgment, but...”He trailed off, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he left the sentence unfinished, the weight of their adversary’s power and influence hanging heavily in the air between them.

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