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The long, slow unraveling of drunken arguments and settling of neighbors’ noise complaints actually was a relief to Sheriff Jenna Graves today.

After the turmoil of the case she and Jake Hawkins had just solved, which involved dead bodies long since hidden in the walls of a local church, it felt good to return to the ordinary work of a small-town keeper of the law.

It was just past six o’clock now, and she was driving into an older part of her hometown with an unusual visit in mind.

Here, the town had long ago expanded around the site of an abandoned coal mine.

This part of Trentville itself looked as though it might be abandoned, too.

Some of the ancient brick facades seemed to be held together by sheer will and desperation.

This place had seen miners come and go; then the less affluent townspeople had moved in.

When Jenna spotted the place she was looking for, her hand tightened around the steering wheel and she took a deep breath. She parked her cruiser on that long forgotten-block and looked around, thinking that actually nothing out here seemed to have changed in the past twenty years.

Although she’d occasionally driven through these streets, she hadn’t set foot in this particular shop since she was sixteen years old—not since she and Piper used to go in and browse, just for the atmosphere and their curiosity about it all.

The items displayed there had seemed to them like treasures in a museum.

The pawnshop’s front window was still cluttered with old tools, musical instruments, vintage radios, all promising a thousand forgotten stories.

Jenna opened her purse and fingered the item she’d found just days ago in an abandoned well.

Mud had been caked so thickly on it that at first Jenna hadn’t been sure there was even an object beneath it.

Not until she cleaned it off. The old brooch was ornate and aged, its metalwork fine but tarnished, and its rounded opal face was nestled into the weathered metal in a skillful design.

The oddest thing about that piece of jewelry was that she had dreamed about before she’d found it.

A spirit in a lucid dream had led her to a specific location, but then vanished when the well came into view.

Finding the brooch there when she was wide awake had been enough to convince Jenna that it was a clue worth following—perhaps a clue as to what happened to her twin sister, Piper.

The pawnshop door creaked a protest when Jenna pushed it open.

She recognized the grizzled and gray man behind the counter as Sheldon Tyler, a familiar face from those long-ago visits with her sister and from his infrequent trips around town.

He was wearing a flannel shirt that had more years on it than some of the wares.

It hung loose on him, like maybe he’d dropped some weight since she saw him last.

His head jerked up, and surprise widened his eyes. “Well, I’ll be,” he said, leaning his elbows on the glass countertop. “Jenna Graves, in the flesh. I haven’t seen you here in my shop for, what, twenty years? It’s been that long, at least.”

Jenna smiled and crossed to the counter. “Sounds about right, Mr. Tyler. Probably a little longer since I’ve visited you. I’m surprised you remember me.”

“I’m not completely uninformed,” he replied, his voice a weathered rasp.

“It’s been ages since you or your sister set foot in here, but I did hear you’d grown up and become Sheriff.

And that Piper …” Mr. Tyler broke off then, waved a hand at the displays around him.

“You tend to develop a memory when you’ve seen as many things come and go as I have.

Of course, some stick with you more than others. ”

“I was hoping you could help me with something,” Jenna said, resting the brooch on the counter. “I found something that might have come through here. But even it didn’t, you’re the best authority around here on old treasures. Do you think you could take a look?”

Mr. Tyler lifted a pair of small glasses from the desk beside him, letting them rest on the tip of his nose. He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. “Where’d you find it?”

Telling him that the spirit of Patricia Gaines, a teenaged girl who went missing in 2020, had appeared to her in a lucid dream and told her where to find the brooch was, of course, out of the question. So Jenna just said, “An abandoned well. Out in Whispering Pines Forest.”

Mr. Tyler took the piece and turned it over, the lenses of his glasses magnifying the curiosity in his eyes. “Well, I’ll be,” he said again. He paused, pondering. “I won’t lie to you, Jenna. I get a lot of things in here. Something like this could’ve passed through my shop. Might not have.”

“I understand,” Jenna said. She tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was so close to something real. “It was just a long shot. Thought you might recognize it.”

“Well, let me think about it,” Mr. Tyler said. “I need to know a little more. Got any more information I could work from?”

“I do,” Jenna said. “At least, a speculation. I was really hoping you could tell me if Piper might have bought it from you back then. She used to come in here without me sometimes.”

“Piper,” Mr. Tyler said, the name drawing out like the pull of a long, frayed rope.

“That sister of yours had the spirit of a collector without the money to buy anything. I remember her coming around to enjoy the ambiance, listening to the old stories I told. But I’m sorry to say, I don’t remember her ever buying a thing. ”

Jenna felt the familiar thud of hope slipping away. But if Mr. Tyler remembered Piper so well, maybe... “You’re sure she never bought this?” Jenna asked. She couldn’t bring herself to let the lead die without a fight. “Not even this one thing?”

“I’m sure,” Mr. Tyler said, gently. “I think I’d remember if she ever came in and put money down on anything. She just loved the shop, loved to browse, same as you. Unusual among youngsters.”

Jenna nodded, swallowing her disappointment.

The brooch had to mean something, perhaps even that Piper was still alive.

“Thanks, Mr. Tyler,” she said, doing her best to keep her voice from sounding as resigned as she felt.

“I thought this might lead me to her. I thought it might be a clue. But apparently not.”

Mr. Tyler placed the brooch back in her hands. “I wish I could be more help to you,” he said. His eyes were deep wells of sympathy. “You ever find out what happened to her?”

“No,” Jenna said. She put the brooch into her purse. “Not yet.”

Jenna thanked the pawnshop owner and left, her feet dragging beneath the weight of old memories. She sat in her car and looked at the brooch again, turning it in the fading light. Her phone rang, startling her into the present. She answered. “Mom?”

“Jenna,” her mother said, her voice unsteady on the line. “Can you come by the house? I need to see you.”

“Sure,” Jenna said, surprised by the call. “Is everything okay?”

“I just need you to come. Please.”

“Of course, I’ll be right there.”

Jenna ended the call, slid the brooch back into her purse, and pulled onto the street, her mind spinning with possibilities.

She drove to her childhood home, worried about the strain in her mother’s voice.

When she got there, she saw that the roses were in full bloom and visibly well-tended.

Jenna wondered if they were saying, Yes, Margaret Graves has kept her promise.

Her mother greeted her at the door, her steps careful and slow. The strain in Mom’s voice was matched by the tremor in her hands. “I need to confess something,” she said.

The words slipped out before Jenna could stop them. “Confess? Mom, you didn’t—?”

“Drink? No, but I came close.” Her mother crossed to a floral-print armchair and lowered herself into it. “Too close. Earlier today, I went by the liquor store when Zeke wasn’t there. I thought maybe one of his employees would sell me a bottle, even if he wouldn’t.”

“Mom.” Jenna’s voice was gentle and surprised.

“I know. I know, it was stupid of me. But Zeke told them not to sell me a single drop, and they didn’t.”

Mom forced a smile. The lines of worry in her face, the thin line of her mouth, made Jenna think of the despondent way her mother looked after losing her father. But now there was a determination in her mother that she hadn’t seen back then.

“That’s a good thing, right?” Margaret said. “It’s a good thing I was caught?”

“Better than good,” Jenna said, pulling a straight-backed chair close. “It means Zeke’s got your back, and it means you reached out to me before things got out of hand.”

“It was so close,” Mom said, and her voice faltered on the last word. “I’m just worried that...”

“Don’t be worried,” Jenna interrupted, gently. “Just keep being honest. Didn’t Zeke offer to take you to AA with him? I think it’s time you go with him.”

“I’ll call him in the morning.” Mom twisted the edge of her skirt in her fingers.

Jenna watched the nervous movement and decided to push. “Call him now.”

Mom’s face turned white. “Now?”

“Right now.” Jenna pulled out her cell phone and held it in front of her mother like a challenge. “The liquor store’s open for another few hours. Chances are we can catch him there. Let’s get this set up.”

Mom hesitated, her eyes darting between Jenna and the phone. “I don’t know. He sounded so proud of me when I told him I quit on my own. What if he thinks—?”

“Call him, Mom.”

Mom took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay. But you do it.”

Jenna dialed the number and put the phone on speaker when a young voice answered. She asked for Zeke, her tone all business.

His voice came on the line a moment later. “Well, I’ll be. Sheriff Graves. How can I help you?”

Jenna put an arm around her mother and squeezed. “Zeke, I’ve got someone here who wants to take you up on your offer.”

“Margaret?”

“Hi, Zeke,” Mom said, her voice a shy echo of its usual self. “I, uh, I thought maybe it’s time I take you up on the AA meeting.”

A beat of silence made Mom close her eyes, and Jenna squeezed her shoulder again.

“Yeah, it’s time to do that, all right,” Zeke said. “And I’m proud of you for saying so. Can you be ready this weekend? I’ll pick you up in my car, so you won’t have to worry about anything.”

A sigh escaped Mom, like all the fears she’d held in had come rushing out at once. “Yes. This weekend. I’ll be ready.”

They settled the time and ended the call, then Mom rested her head in her hands for a long, silent moment. When she lifted it, her expression was tired but relieved. “Thank you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re a good daughter.”

“You’re strong,” Jenna said. “And brave. You’ve come this far. Reaching out is a big step.”

A silent pause drew out between them, a history of hurt and hope mingling in the space where words should be. Then Jenna broke the silence. “I have something to ask you. On a different topic.”

Mom looked interested, so Jenna reached into her purse and withdrew the brooch. “I’m wondering if you recognize this. Maybe if it was Piper’s.”

Mom’s eyes focused on the object, turning it in her hands with curiosity and confusion. “Where did you get this?”

Again, Jenna felt that she couldn’t explain the whole truth. “I found it in the forest, an area where Piper loved to go.”

Mom frowned. “It looks expensive. Do you remember her ever wearing it?”

“I’m not sure,” Jenna muttered. She didn’t want to explain that the connection between this piece of jewelry and her sister had been in the dream world.

“I’m sorry, but it doesn’t look familiar,” Mom said with a shake of her head.

“That’s okay. Just thought I’d asked.

She took the brooch back and rose to leave. “I’ll come by again soon,” Jenna said, and Mom’s nod was full of hope.

When she left her mother’s house, the oncoming dark night matched Jenna’s mood. She felt guilty for bringing up the sensitive subject of Piper when Mom had so much to struggle with.

As she drove through town toward her own home, a sense of foreboding crept in with every mile. By the time she reached her street, Jenna recognized the warning her psyche was giving her—she was going to have a very troubling dream this very night.