Page 17

“Another murder?” Chief Morgan’s voice on the phone sounded irritated. “What do you mean, Sheriff Graves?”

Jenna knew she couldn’t possibly explain that her words were based on nothing more than a dream.

But she also couldn’t just walk away and let the local police discover the new tragedy for themselves, leaving Sandra Reeves’ friends and family in a state of anxiety for whatever time that might take.

And now that it was looking like they had a serial killer at large, other lives could be in danger.

She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry, and told Morgan, “We have reason to believe that Sandra Reeves was attacked and killed last night in a warehouse near her recording studio.”

“Sandra Reeves?” Morgan’s voice crackled through the speaker “The singer? What do you mean, you have ‘reason to believe’? Sheriff Graves, what the hell are you talking about?”

Jake shifted closer to her, his shoulder brushing against hers in silent support.

“I understand your concern,” Jenna said, struggling to find words that wouldn’t sound completely insane. “We received information that brought my deputy and I here, and—”

“And how exactly did you come by this... information?” Morgan demanded.

Jake gently took the phone from Jenna’s hand and held it out so they both could hear and speak into it. “Chief, we received a tip from a source that has been accurate before. It pointed us to a particular location. We’re following up on it now.”

“What kind of source?”

“The exact identity is unknown. But the source, as I said, has been helpful.”

Jenna winced at the half-truth. She hated putting Jake in this position, forcing him to bend the truth because of her inexplicable abilities. But what choice did they have?

“An unknown source,” Morgan repeated flatly. “I see. Does this mean Harris Lynch isn’t your suspect anymore?” Morgan cut in. “Because last I checked, he was in custody and we were looking for something solid to tie him to Derrick’s murder.”

“That’s right,” Jake said, his voice steady and professional. “Lynch was in custody when this... when we believe this new murder happened.”

The line went quiet for a moment. Jenna could almost see Morgan pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“Exactly where are you?” Morgan finally asked.

“We’re at the location that was given to us,” Jake continued. “It’s an abandoned warehouse not far from the recording studio.”

“You’re already there?” Morgan’s voice rose in pitch. “Without backup or proper—?”

“We haven’t entered the premises,” Jake interjected smoothly. “We’re waiting for you and your team.”

“And why exactly are you two there without my knowledge?”

“As I mentioned before,” Jake replied smoothly, “our informant has been useful, even though unnamed. But since the source has not always been completely accurate, we needed to verify the existence of the place and to see if there was any merit to the claim.”

“And this claim involves Sandra Reeves? Our local star is supposedly a victim?” The incredulity in Morgan’s voice was palpable.

“Yes,” Jenna affirmed. “We did confirm that possibility before contacting you. We spoke with Tony Silke at Melody Forge Studios.”

She paused for a moment before continuing.

“Tony informed us that Sandra didn’t come into work today which is highly unusual for her.

Her car was left untouched in the parking lot since yesterday, and when he reached out to your dispatcher earlier today voicing his concerns, they were brushed aside. ”

A heavy silence fell. “I’ll be looking into that,” Morgan finally muttered after what felt like an eternity to Jenna. “Where exactly is this warehouse?”

Leaning toward the phone, she said. “It’s just north of Melody Forge Studios. The address is 1782 Industrial Park Way. It’s an area that looks like it hasn’t been in use for some time.”

A heavy sigh filtered through the speaker. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Don’t do anything until I arrive. Clear?”

“Crystal,” Jake replied.

The call ended with an abrupt click, leaving them standing in uncomfortable silence.

“That went well,” Jenna muttered ironically.

“Could’ve been worse,” Jake offered, handing her phone back. “He’s coming to check things out, at least.”

“Thank you for covering for me,” she said quietly.

Jake’s expression softened. “You and I look out for each other. Always have, always will.”

“But I put you in an impossible position. Lying to another officer.”

“It wasn’t a lie,” he said, his voice firm. “We did receive information that led us here. The source is just too ... complicated ... to try to explain.”

Jenna smiled weakly. “That’s one way to put it.”

For a long moment she just stared at the warehouse that stood silent and imposing against the clear blue sky, its windows dark and empty like dead eyes. But her mind was at work, still trying to connect the pieces of this increasingly complex puzzle.

“I’ve been thinking about the victims,” she said. “Marcus Derrick and now Sandra Reeves.”

Jake nodded. “Both Pineville residents, both well-known in their own circles. What’s the connection?”

“Howard Mitchell’s estate sale,” Jenna said, the realization crystallizing in her mind. “Marcus bought that ham radio set there. And Sandra purchased that antique phonograph from the same sale.”

Jake’s eyes widened slightly. “So you think our killer might be targeting people who bought items from Mitchell’s collection?”

“It’s the only link I can see between them so far,” Jenna confirmed. “We need to talk to Rebecca Mitchell again, find out more about her buyers.”

“That’s good thinking,” Jake said, a hint of pride in his voice. “But that sale has been going on for weeks now. There must have been a lot of buyers, though I guess it should be possible to get a list of them. Do you think they’re all at risk?”

“I don’t know. Maybe there’s also some other connection that we’re not seeing.”

They both fell silent as a patrol car pulled into the gravel lot, followed by an unmarked sedan. Two uniformed officers exited the patrol car, nodding respectfully toward Jenna and Jake. Chief Morgan emerged from the sedan, looking less friendly. He approached them with a frown on his face.

“Sheriff Graves. Deputy Hawkins.” His greeting was curt, his sharp eyes assessing them both.

“Chief Morgan,” Jenna replied. “Thank you for coming.”

“Let’s get down to business,” Morgan said, adjusting his belt. “Tell me again why you’re here.”

“Given the timing and the... well, some similarities to the Derrick case,” Jenna said, “we felt that our tip warranted immediate investigation.”

Morgan’s gaze shifted from Jenna to Jake and back again. “And your ‘unknown source’ led you here specifically? To this warehouse?”

Jenna answered simply, “Yes.”

After a skeptical glare, Morgan said,” Let’s take a look, then.”

Jenna led the way toward the building, stopping at the loading dock where a large metal roll-up door was slightly open. Her skin prickled with déjà vu as she remembered Sandra’s description of the attack.

Jenna gestured towards the slightly raised door. “I think Sandra was chased into the building here.”

Morgan’s brows lifted slightly at her words, but he remained silent.

He scanned the ominous gap before he motioned to his officers with a curt nod, instructing them wordlessly to prepare their firearms. Jake moved instinctively closer to Jenna.

His hand hovered protectively over his holstered weapon.

“Stay behind us,” Morgan commanded, his tone cold as steel as he unholstered his own gun.

One of the officers crouched low and slipped under the partly-raised loading dock door, disappearing inside. A few moments later he called out in a hushed tone, “All clear so far.”

Jake joined the other two men, and they managed to pull the sliding door upward another two feet, the metal groaning in protest. The darkness inside seemed to swallow the morning light, leaving only shadows and silhouettes.

Jenna ducked through the opening and followed the officers into the warehouse, her eyes adjusting slowly to the dim interior.

Dust particles danced in the few shafts of sunlight that managed to penetrate the high windows.

The air was stale and cold, with a metallic undertone that made her skin crawl.

“Lights don’t work,” one officer reported. “I guess the power is off.”

“The place has been abandoned for a long time,” Morgan said. “Spread out. But stay within sight of each other.”

Their footsteps echoed in the cavernous space as they moved forward, flashlight beams cutting through the dimness. Rows of shelving units and abandoned machinery created a maze of hidden corners.

Jenna’s gaze swept the concrete floor, searching for any sign of disturbance in the thick layer of dust. Twenty feet in, she spotted it – a series of scuff marks and footprints, some large and deliberate, others smaller and chaotic.

“Here,” she called out, crouching down to examine the marks.

Morgan joined her, his flashlight beam tracing the path of the footprints. “Looks like someone was here—recently, maybe.”

“This also looks recent,” Jake added, pointing to where a stack of wooden crates had toppled over, disturbing the dust.

“She probably tried to reach that fire exit,” Jenna observed, pointing to a door with an unlit exit sign.

They moved that way carefully, weapons ready, tension building with each step. Jenna’s mind flashed to her dream – Sandra’s terror, her desperate flight through the darkness.

“Look,” one of the officers said, the beam of his flashlight illuminating a pair of women’s dress shoes, one tipped onto its side, the other standing upright a few feet away.

Jenna’s breath caught in her throat. In her dream, Sandra had mentioned taking off her shoes to run more quietly. But she couldn’t say that aloud.

“She must have been in a hurry,” she commented instead.

Morgan knelt to examine the shoes, his expression grim. “Expensive. Definitely not work boots for a place like this.”

Then Jake’s flashlight beam caught something else on the floor – a cellphone with a cracked screen, its shiny case incongruous against the grimy concrete. Beside it lay a heavy leather shoulder bag, its contents partially spilled across the floor.

Morgan crouched down and carefully opened the bag wider, using a pen to move items aside. He withdrew a wallet, flipping it open to reveal a driver’s license.

“Sandra Reeves,” he confirmed, his voice tight. He gave Jenna a hard look.

She scanned the area, noting the signs of a struggle but seeing no body.

“Where is she?” one of the officers asked quietly.

“That’s what we need to find out,” Morgan replied, standing up. He turned to Jenna, eyes narrowed with suspicion. “I’m going to ask you one more time, Sheriff. How did you know to come here?”

Jenna met his gaze steadily, despite the knot in her stomach. “Our investigation led us here.”

“That’s not an answer,” Morgan pressed. “You show up at a warehouse we didn’t even know was connected to a missing person, find evidence of foul play that nobody reported, and expect me to believe it’s just good police work?”

Jake took half a step forward. “Chief, with all due respect—”

“I’m not talking to you, Deputy,” Morgan said sharply, his eyes never leaving Jenna’s face. “I’m talking to the Sheriff, who seems to have information she’s not sharing.”

The tension in the warehouse thickened like the dust in the air, making it harder to breathe. Jenna opened her mouth, still uncertain what she could possibly say, when Morgan’s phone rang, cutting through the silence.

He glanced at the screen, his brow furrowing. “It’s Colonel Spelling.” He answered the call, turning slightly away from the group. “Morgan here.”

Jenna watched as Morgan’s expression shifted from irritation to shock. His shoulders stiffened, and he turned back toward them, his face pale in the dim light.

“When?” he asked into the phone. “Where exactly?” A pause. “We’ll be right there.”

He ended the call, his eyes finding Jenna’s immediately.

“They found another body,” he said, his voice hollow. “Bound to a radio tower right near the county line. We need to get over there right away.”

The blood drained from Jenna’s face. “Just like Marcus Derrick.”

Morgan nodded grimly. “Except this time, it’s a woman.” The lines around his mouth deepened with shock, frustration, and something darker—suspicion, aimed squarely at Jenna and Jake.