Page 38 of In Her Prayers

“Clark expects to commit another murder,” Jake said.“This is a confession in waiting.”

Jenna nodded.There was no denying the conclusion that Larry Clark, the unassuming piano tuner with the gentle smile, was indeed the one orchestrating this macabre symphony of death.

“Document everything, photograph everything,” Jenna instructed Officer Tebbe, her voice betraying none of the dread that tightened around her heart.”

She walked through the house to the back door and asked the other members of her team, “Anything?Seen anyone?”

When they all said no, she told them, “Check inside and behind the workshop and then join us in the house.”

Jenna pulled out her phone, dialing Spelling’s number.The line buzzed briefly before he picked up.

“Spelling, it’s Graves,” she said, her voice steady despite the chilling realization still fresh in her mind.

“What is it?”His voice echoed back, gruff and authoritative over the line.

“We found something at Larry Clark’s place,” Jenna started, her gaze drifting back to the hauntingly empty picture frame draped in black.“Photographs of Cavanaugh and Weber are hanging on his wall.Each one is framed and draped in funeral black.And there’s more.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line as Spelling processed this information and waited for Jenna to speak further.

“And?”he prompted after a moment.

“There’s a third one,” she hesitated, unable to explain how she knew who it was.“I think it might be a man Frank told me about—an autoharp player who disappeared back in the early 70s.”

“So you still think there was another victim?”Spelling asked, his voice betraying a hint of skepticism.“Another body in the church?”

“Affirmative,” Jenna said, her gaze fixed on the empty frame.“Three portraits, two bodies.An empty picture frame awaiting a fourth victim.It’s a pattern.”

The silence stretched between them as Spelling digested this new piece of information.Finally, he responded with a resigned sigh, “Alright Graves...we’ll keep searching.”

“And there’s an empty frame,” Jenna continued, swallowing hard against the lump forming in her throat.“It’s also draped in black.That suggests Clark expects to commit yet another murder.I’ll have Officer Tebbe send you the photos.”

“Copy that,” Spelling answered, his tone now edged with urgency.“Any notion as to his whereabouts?”

“No, but his car is still here.”

“Good.On foot, he won’t get far.Not without being seen.I’ll call in some more of my men to go looking for him.I’ll set up a base of operations at the church.We’ll keep searching here for the body, and around town for Larry.”

“Agreed,” Jenna said, and ended the call.

“Spelling will have the highway patrol canvasing the town,” Jenna explained to her team.“We have the advantage.He’s out there, exposed, while we have numbers and resources.”

“Let’s make them count,” Jake added.

“The Colonel is setting up at St.Michael’s,” Jenna informed them crisply.“It’s our base now.We’ll coordinate the search from there.”

The officers nodded, their postures straightening.They knew the gravity of the situation without a word more.

“Keep looking,” she instructed the team, her voice cutting through the silence like a knife.“Keep combing through the house.Every drawer, every crevice—anything that could link Clark to the victims, or suggest where he might have gone.Or who he might be after next.”

Tebbe acknowledged with a terse, “On it, Sheriff.”

The rest moved to resume their meticulous search, their hands donning gloves once again, their eyes sharp for the subtlest clue.

With a last look at the officers, Jenna turned towards the door, Jake falling into step with her.The humid night air hit her face as she stepped onto the porch, the darkness of the small town pressing in around them.Her senses were heightened, attuned to the whispers of Trentville, as if the very atmosphere could betray Clark’s whereabouts.

“Let’s get back to the office,” Jenna said to Jake, her voice low but carrying easily in the stillness.“We can pull in a couple more officers for the search.He can’t have gotten far.”

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

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