Page 4 of In Her Wake
Well, she had come this far…
Three young men were working in the yard, one splitting wood with an ax, the others loading bales of hay onto a flatbed trailer.They paused as her cruiser approached, exchanging glances before the tallest stepped forward.
Jenna parked and got out, badge visible, professional smile in place.
“Afternoon,” she called.“I’m looking for Samuel Morton.”
“That’d be our grandfather,” the tall one said, wiping sweat from his brow with a forearm.“I’m Amos.These are my brothers, Tyrone and Ross.”
The other two nodded but kept their distance, eyeing her cruiser warily.
“I’m Sheriff Jenna Graves,” she said, then added quickly, “Just here to ask a few questions, nothing official.”
Amos relaxed slightly.“Grandpa’s in the house.You want me to get him?”
“In a minute,” Jenna said.She reached into her pocket and withdrew a small photo—one of the last taken of Piper before she vanished.Sixteen years old, dark hair, bright smile.A face so like Jenna’s own, yet uniquely Piper’s.“I’m actually looking for this woman.She would be in her mid-thirties now, but she might look similar.”
She handed the photo to Amos, who studied it carefully before passing it to his brothers.They huddled around it, frowning in concentration.
“She’s my twin sister,” Jenna explained, the words still painful after all these years.“She disappeared twenty years ago, when we were sixteen.I have reason to believe she might have worked here at some point.”
“Don’t recognize her,” Amos said, shaking his head.“Tyrone?Ross?”
Both brothers shook their heads.
“We’ve had seasonal help come through over the years,” Tyrone said, his voice gentler than his rough appearance suggested.“But I don’t recall anyone looking like her.”
“Maybe Grandpa would know better,” Ross added, handing the photo back to Jenna.“He keeps track of everyone who’s ever set foot on Morton land.”
“I’ll get him,” Amos said, heading toward the house.
Jenna waited, trying to suppress the familiar tide of disappointment.She’d known it was a long shot.A dream, a ghost’s whisper, a crude drawing—hardly reliable intelligence.But she’d hoped.God, how she’d hoped.
Amos returned with an elderly man, stooped but moving with purpose.Samuel Morton had the weathered face of someone who’d spent his life outdoors, deep lines etched around pale blue eyes that missed nothing.
“Sheriff,” he acknowledged with a nod.“My grandson says you’re looking for someone.”
Jenna offered the photo.“My sister, Piper.She went missing twenty years ago.I thought she might have worked here at some point.”
Samuel took the photo in gnarled hands, holding it at arm’s length to study it.“Can’t say I recognize her,” he said after a moment.“Why’d you think she was here?”
Jenna hesitated.How could she explain?I saw her in a dream.A dead girl told me to find a scarecrow at a crossroads.
“I received information,” she said carefully, “that she might have been in this area.Working on a farm similar to yours.”
Samuel’s eyes narrowed slightly.“What kind of information?”
Before Jenna could formulate a response, her phone rang.She glanced at the screen: Jake Hawkins.
“Excuse me,” she said, stepping away.“I need to take this.”
She pressed the phone to her ear.“Jake, what’s up?”
“Jenna, we’ve got a situation in Trentville,” Jake’s voice was tense, controlled.“I need you back here as soon as possible.”
“What kind of situation?”
“Hard to explain over the phone.I’m at 1423 Maple Street, Harry Powell’s place.He called in something...unusual.”
