Page 8 of In Her Prayers

“Why, that might just work,” Mrs.Fitzgerald said, almost smiling.

“Alright,” Mr.Thompson grumbled finally, “I’ll build the blasted thing.But it’s going to be small and no frills.”

“Thank you, Mr.Thompson,” Jenna said, her voice even and steady.She turned to look at Mrs.Fitzgerald, whose posture had relaxed slightly.“And you, Mrs.Fitzgerald, will you agree to keep this matter between neighbors?And no lawsuits, please.”

The elderly woman hesitated, her lips quivering in thought.Then, with a sigh that seemed to release all the tension of the morning, she nodded.“Yes, I suppose that’s fair.No lawyers needed if that rooster is out of my earshot at dawn.I think I can manage to put up with that noise during the day.”

The agreement hung in the air, fragile but intact.Jenna felt the knot in her stomach loosen; the simple joy of resolution, even in a dispute as trivial as this, was its own reward.

“Shake on it?”Jenna suggested, gesturing to the pair.

With reluctance, Mrs.Fitzgerald extended her hand towards Mr.Thompson, who took it in his own with surprising gentleness.Their handshake was brief, their faces marked with relief but still laced with irritation—not quite friends, but no longer adversaries.

“Good work,” Jake murmured, giving Jenna an approving nod.

“Let’s head back,” Jenna said, her mind already shifting gears from mediator back to law enforcer.The early July heat was beginning to assert itself, hinting at the sweltering afternoon to come.

Jake fell in step beside her, a grin cracking his usually stoic demeanor.“Well, that’s one crisis averted,” Jake said, his voice carrying over the hum of cicadas in the nearby trees.“Though I have to say, I never thought I’d be negotiating the sleeping arrangements of a rooster.”

Jenna let out a genuine chuckle, feeling the absurdity of their situation.

“Yeah, well, I’m sure you never expected a lot of things we have to deal with in Trentville—like escaped parrots and attics that are haunted by raccoons.”

She and Jake had, indeed, dealt with those very issues, and many others of a distinctly local color.

“It sure is stuff being a city cop never prepared me for,” Jake said with a chuckle.

“Just another day in the exciting life of small-town law enforcement,” Jenna added, her voice laced with a mix of sarcasm and fondness.

It was moments like these that reminded her of the unique charm—and challenge—of serving Trentville.She glanced sideways at Jake, noting the lightness in his eyes, so unlike the intensity they often held during their investigations.

They had just gotten back into the patrol car when the radio’s static burst cut through the silence, followed by a question, “Sheriff Graves, Deputy Hawkins, do you copy?”

Sally’s voice, usually steady and detached, now carried an edge that made Jenna’s skin prickle.Jake’s eyes met hers, a silent exchange of concern passing between them as they braced for what would come next.

“Go ahead, Sally,” Jenna replied.

“We’ve got a situation at St.Michael’s Church,” Sally continued, the slight tremor in her voice betraying her usual composure.“Father Walsh just called in.They’ve...they’ve found a body.”

“In the church?”Jake asked in surprise.

“That’s what they said.Right there in the old church.”

“Do they have an ID?”Jenna asked.

“No,” Sally replied.“But they said it’s definitely a murder.I didn’t ask any more questions.Knew I had to get you.”

“Copy that, Sally,” Jenna said, her voice steady as she marshaled her thoughts into action.“We’re on our way.Alert the coroner and tell her to meet us there.”

She paused, her gaze flickering over to Jake, who sat rigid beside her, his own expression a mask of professional concern.“And Sally?”she added.“Keep this quiet for now.The last thing we need is the whole town showing up at the scene.”

“Understood, Sheriff.Be careful out there,” came the reply, the line crackling briefly before falling silent.

Jenna glanced at Jake, finding a shared surprise reflected in his eyes.The quiet sense of accomplishment from moments before evaporated, replaced by the grim realization that this day had taken a dark turn.

CHAPTER FIVE

The musical tones of carillon bells flooded the air as Jenna pushed the car door open and stepped out in front of St.Michael’s Catholic Church.The Angelus melody, familiar and usually comforting, now struck an eerie chord against the backdrop of a potential crime scene.

---