Page 9 of In Her Shadow

The phone rang out into the void and Jenna could almost see the mayor’s stern features as she heard the well-rehearsed politeness of Claire’s voicemail greeting—a veneer of composure so at odds with the raw undercurrent of grief the woman must have been grappling with.It was a sharp reminder of the duality Claire Simmons embodied, public servant and private citizen, now a mourning sister.

“Mayor Simmons, this is Deputy Hawkins.Sheriff Graves and I need to speak with you as soon as possible.We’re on our way to your house now.Please call back if you need to reschedule,” Jake spoke into the phone, each word clear and precise.

As the deputy ended the call, Jenna declared, “We need to loop in Colonel Spelling.A murder this high-profile...we’re going to need all the help we can get.”

Jenna watched as Jake pressed the speakerphone button on his device, the room falling into a tense quiet.“Colonel,” he began, his voice echoing in the hushed space.“We’re dealing with a situation here that requires your assistance.”

The Colonel’s response came through the phone’s speakers, stern and authoritative.“Understood.What’s the issue?”

Jake didn’t waver, his tone resolute as he explained their predicament, including the brand on the victim’s chest.

“The sheriff and I need a team at the crime scene immediately,” Jake said.“I’ll send you GPS coordinates.“Also, please call Coroner Melissa Stark.She can send you a photo of the brand mark.”

After a moment of silence, the Colonel responded again with a simple confirmation of support.

“I’ll come to the scene right away with a team,” Spelling said.

“Thank you, Colonel,” Jake acknowledged firmly before ending the call with a decisive tap on his screen.

“Spelling is on board,” he told Jenna.

“That’s good,” Jenna said.“Thanks, Jake.”

She fell silent, mulling over the forensic puzzle pieces they had—too few to form any coherent picture.Then Jake’s voice sliced through the quiet again.

“So,” he started cautiously, casting a sidelong glance at her, “how was your morning?Before all this, I mean.Did you find anything at Shelby National Forest?”

“Nothing,” she responded, her tone marked with the frustration that had been building since dawn.“Just more questions.”The image of sandpipers by a pond flickered in her mind, a brief moment of serenity.A symbol of what?Freedom?Escape?Or something more elusive—a clue, perhaps, fluttering just out of reach?

“I saw some sandpipers...but it’s irrelevant,” she trailed off, shaking her head as if to dispel the memory.The sight hadn’t given her the breakthrough she so desperately sought; it just started off another day without answers.

“Jenna,” Jake’s voice soft with concern.“I’m worried about you.This search for Piper, these dreams...it’s consuming you.”

She didn’t look at him, her hands tightening on the steering wheel as the road unwound before them.There was truth in his words, a concern she lived with every day.“I know,” she whispered, her voice barely rising above the sound of the tires on pavement.“But I can’t let it go.Not when I feel so close to...something.Anything.”

Jake’s hand lifted tentatively, hovering near her shoulder—an offer of comfort, perhaps, or simply a gesture of solidarity.Then, as if reconsidering, he pulled back, letting his arm fall to his side.Jenna caught the motion from the corner of her eye and appreciated the restraint.

The silence in the car stretched into minutes.Jenna’s focus remained fixed on the road, but in her peripheral vision, she caught glimpses of Jake staring pensively out the window.His strong profile was etched against the sky, his expression set with the determination she had come to rely on.Without meaning to, she found herself studying him in glances, the way his sandy hair fell just right, how his shoulders squared resolutely beneath his uniform.

She wondered if he felt it too, this magnetic draw that seemed to bridge the gap between personal and professional.There were moments, fleeting and rare, where she thought perhaps he did, when his eyes lingered on her a moment too long, or his touch lingered a fraction of a second more than necessary.

As the silence continued, it became a comfortable thing, a shared space where words were unnecessary.Jenna felt a whisper of gratitude for Jake’s presence, for the understanding he offered without question.

They arrived at the imposing Victorian home of Mayor Simmons, its pristine exterior belying the turmoil that undoubtedly lay inside.Jenna parked the cruiser, turned off the ignition, and exhaled slowly.They got out and made their way up the walkway to the entrance, but the door swung open before they could even knock.

Standing in the doorway was Claire Simmons, her hawk-like gaze piercing through them, her tailored suit as sharp and unyielding as the woman herself.Her manicured nails were a stark red against the white door frame, and her rigid posture seemed to radiate an aura of power that was at odds with the grief she must be feeling.

“Have you found him?The one who killed Clyde?”Claire Simmons’ voice cut through the space between them like a blade—sharp, direct, and unyielding.

“We’re still investigating, Mayor,” Jenna responded.“We need more information.”

“Then why are you here?”Claire’s eyes were two chips of ice.“I have nothing to say until my brother’s murderer is caught.”

“Mayor, we believe you might be able to help us get closer to finding the killer,” Jake commented diplomatically.

Claire regarded them for a heartbeat before stepping aside.“Sheriff.Deputy,” she conceded with a nod.“I suppose you’d better come in.”

Crossing the threshold, Jenna’s senses were immediately assailed by the scent of antique wood polish and the subtle hint of lavender.The foyer was a grand statement of wealth and meticulous taste, from the gleaming marble floor to the crystal chandelier that dripped light from the high ceiling.Claire Simmons was from an old and prosperous local family.

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