Page 37 of In Her Wake
Jake pulled out his phone, putting it on speaker after dialing.The call connected quickly: “St.Louis Police Department, Sergeant Kelley speaking.”
“Sergeant, this is Deputy Jake Hawkins with the Genesius County Sheriff’s Department.We have a Rebecca Ashcroft in custody who suggested we call your department about her.Can you tell us if you have any recent incidents involving her?”
There was a pause, the sound of keys clicking.“Ashcroft, Rebecca...Yes, we have a warrant out for her arrest.Incident occurred at approximately 2:30 this morning.Mrs.Ashcroft allegedly doused her estranged husband’s vehicle with gasoline and set it on fire in the driveway of his residence in Clayton.Vehicle was completely destroyed.Husband reported she made threatening statements before fleeing the scene.”
Jenna glanced in the rearview mirror again.Rebecca had closed her eyes, her head resting against the window.
“Was anyone injured?”Jake asked.
“Negative.Husband was inside the house when it happened.Neighbors called it in when they heard the explosion.We’ve been looking for her since.”
“Well, we have her in custody now,” Jake said.“We’ll hold her here in Genesius County on our charges—at least for reckless driving, but possibly more serious matters.We can coordinate transfer later if needed.”
“Appreciate that, Deputy.I’ll update our system and inform the investigating officer.”
After ending the call, Jake turned slightly in his seat to look at Rebecca.“Want to explain?”
Rebecca opened her eyes, meeting his gaze with a look of weary defeat.“I lost it last night,” she admitted.“The meeting with Cecil and his lawyer was awful.He’s trying to take everything—the house we bought together, the vacation property in Branson, even family heirlooms that belonged to my grandmother.I left the meeting and went to a bar, then another.After the bars closed, I just...snapped.”
“So you set his car on fire,” Jenna stated flatly.
“His precious BMW,” Rebecca confirmed, a bitter smile twisting her lips.“He loves that car more than he ever loved me.Twelve years of marriage, and he throws it away for some twenty-something yoga instructor.”She shook her head.“I know it was wrong.I just wanted to hurt him like he hurt me.”
“And that’s why you ran when you saw us?”Jake asked.
“Yes.I figured the St.Louis police would be looking for me.When I saw your cruiser, I panicked.”She leaned forward, her handcuffs jangling.“But I swear to you, I had nothing to do with Marjory Powell.Yes, we had a disagreement.Yes, I said some harsh things.But I wouldn’t hurt her.”
Jenna drove in silence for a moment, processing this new information.Rebecca’s arson adventure in St.Louis didn’t give her an alibi for Marjory’s murder.The timeline still worked—she could have abducted and killed Marjory yesterday afternoon, placed the mannequin in the Powell home, then driven to St.Louis for her lawyer meeting and subsequent meltdown.
Yet something about her reaction to the news of Marjory’s death had seemed genuine.
A few minutes later, they arrived at the Genesius County Jail, a squat brick building that housed the county’s modest detention facility.The interior buzzed with the usual energy of a working jail—officers moving about, the occasional inmate being escorted between areas, the hum of administrative activity.
As they processed Rebecca, Jenna found her thoughts returning to the mannequin in the Powell kitchen.The meticulous craftsmanship, the attention to detail—it spoke of planning, of artistic skill.Rebecca Ashcroft was many things: impulsive, dramatic, and prone to emotional outbursts.But meticulous planning didn't seem to fit her profile.Setting a car on fire in a fit of rage was one thing; crafting a perfect replica of someone's face was another entirely.
“What are you thinking?”Jake asked quietly as Deputy Marla Quinn led Rebecca away to change into jail attire.
“The mannequin required planning, skill, patience.Rebecca is...”She gestured toward the doorway where Rebecca had disappeared.“Not that.”
“So we keep looking,” Jake said.“Rebecca’s still a person of interest, but we don’t close any doors.”
Jenna nodded, about to respond when her phone rang.Colonel Spelling’s name flashed on the screen.
“Colonel,” she answered.“We’ve apprehended Rebecca Ashcroft, but I’m not convinced—”
“Sheriff,” Spelling cut in, his voice tense.“I just received a call from Chief Rudy Morgan in Pinecrest.There’s been another incident.Another mannequin has been found.”
“Where?”she asked, adding, “Jake’s here and I’m putting you on speaker.”
“Torres Fitness Studio,” Spelling replied.“The owner, Kevin Torres, is missing, and a mannequin with his face was found there.Just like the Powell case.”
“We’ll head there now,” Jenna said, already moving toward the exit.“Are you still at the Rostow farm?”
“Finishing up here.I’ll meet you at the fitness studio as soon as I can.Chief Morgan is securing the scene.”
The call ended, and Jenna turned to Jake.“We need to go.”
“Morgan’s not going to be happy to see us,” Jake commented as they reached the cruiser.“He made that pretty clear last time we had a case that crossed into his jurisdiction.”
