Page 18 of In Her Prayers

“Morning,” Jake greeted her, his voice gravelly from sleep.Jenna managed a smile as she eased the car back into the flow of the street.After a moment, he added, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“You’re not far off,” she responded, turning her focus to the road ahead.She knew that Jake’s remark was not just curiosity; she heard in it the undercurrent of concern for her well-being—and also for the case at hand.

“Another dream?”

“Yes.It took place in St.Michael’s,” she began.“But it wasn’t the church as we know it—it was...different.Distorted by time, or perhaps by becoming the realm of the dead.”

“Go on,” he urged, frowning as he processed her words.

“There were two women—dead spirits, I assume.They seemed lost and confused, and there was such sorrow about them, an unspeakable loss.”Jenna felt the weight of their unseen gazes upon her, even now.“And a man—plucking at the strings of an autoharp.It was all so vivid, Jake.”

“Did they communicate anything?Any clues?”

“Only in song,” Jenna murmured, pulling up to a stoplight and pausing as if the red glow could halt the progression of her thoughts as easily as it stilled the car.“The women both sang.The first was a haunting blues melody I think I’ve heard somewhere before.

“Can you remember the song?”Jake prodded gently.

“Every note,” she assured him.

The light turned green, and Jenna eased the car forward.The song lingered in the back of her mind, an enigmatic whisper from beyond the veil.She stole a glance at Jake, who waited with an expectant stillness beside her.

Jenna cleared her throat, the car’s engine humming softly in the background as they coasted down the asphalt ribbon that cut through Trentville.Her voice rose, tentative at first, then steadier as she sang the bluesy lines from her dream:

“I went to the crossroad, fell down on my knees

I went to the crossroad, fell down on my knees

Asked the Lord above, ‘Have mercy, save this poor girl, if you please.”

Jenna glanced over at Jake, whose expression had shifted from concern to startled recognition.

“That’s ‘Cross Road Blues,’ by Robert Johnson, a very real old classic.”Jake’s voice held an edge of wonder as he acknowledged the song’s legacy.

A small spark of excitement flickered in Jenna’s eyes.“And then the second woman sang this hymn I’ve never heard.Her voice was different, lighter somehow, but it carried a message, a plea almost.”

She let the silence between them stretch for a moment, gathering her thoughts before she filled the car with another echo from her dream.Then she began to sing, her voice low and haunting:

“In shadows deep, the secrets keep,

Through courage, truth we strive to reap.

In dreams they stir, in whispers speak,

Guiding the lost, the brave, the meek.”

The final notes lingered in the air as Jenna’s voice faded into the hum of the engine.

Jake shook his head gently, breaking the momentary spell.

“That one’s new to me,” he admitted.Concern creased his forehead as he turned towards her.“Jenna, these dreams...they’re incredible, but I always worry about them.The toll they must be taking...”

Jenna’s response came on a sigh, shoulders drooping under the weight of a burden she had carried since Piper’s disappearance.

“I know, Jake.”Her grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly.“But they’ve been crucial in solving cases.”The songs, the women, even the man with the autoharp—she was sure they were all pieces of a puzzle that extended beyond the realm of the living.“What if these songs are clues that we need?”

He nodded slowly, considering her words.“It’s possible,” he conceded.“Music has a way of transcending time, of connecting stories across generations.”

“Exactly,” Jenna agreed, feeling the gears of her intuition mesh with the logic of police work.

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