Page 5 of In Her Dreams (Jenna Graves #7)

As Jenna pulled away from the Winters’ residence, the squad car’s air conditioning fought against the afternoon heat, but the chill she felt had nothing to do with temperature.

Richard Winters’ death and Rusty’s haunted eyes when she spoke of the expression of terror frozen on his face …

that strange object hanging on his bedroom wall…

And hovering behind it all—the other awful situation they’d dealt with earlier today. Women caged in the mine and the hollow-eyed one who’d looked at Jenna as if she were a ghost returned from the dead.

The streets of Trentville unfurled before her, so familiar she could navigate them blindfolded.

Past Riverbend Trust Bank where Richard had worked for decades, past the elementary school where she and Piper had learned to read, past the courthouse with its imposing columns.

Each landmark was a reminder of the life she’d built in the absence of her sister.

Her mind wouldn’t settle, thoughts skittering from the Harvesters case to Richard Winters’ inexplicable death then back to the strange words of the woman they’d rescued. Without conscious decision, Jenna reached for her phone and tapped Jake’s number.

He answered on the second ring. “Hawkins.”

“It’s me,” Jenna said, the tension in her shoulders easing at the sound of his voice. “Anything new on the Harvesters front?”

“Nothing yet. The forensics team is still processing the mine site. No ID on our Jane Doe yet either.”

“Still unconscious?”

“Last I checked.” Paper rustled on Jake’s end of the line. “I’m wrapping up some paperwork at the station. The FBI team is due in to meet with us here in an hour.”

“I want to stop by the coroner’s office,” she said.

“See if Melissa’s found anything unusual about Richard’s death.

There should be time for that. I can swing by and pick you up if you want to join me.

” The suggestion to pick him up wasn’t strictly necessary – Jake had his own vehicle – but she found herself craving his steady presence.

“Sounds good. I’ll be out front.”

Ten minutes later, Jake slid into the passenger seat, bringing with him the no-nonsense energy that had drawn her to him from their first meeting. His sandy hair was slightly disheveled, as if he’d been running his hands through it – a habit when deep in thought.

“Rough visit with Rusty?” he asked, studying her face.

“You could say that.” Jenna pulled away from the curb.

“How’s she holding up?”

“About as well as you’d expect. But something’s off about the whole situation, Jake. Richard Winters had a heart condition, yes. But according to Rusty, he’d been doing well. And she mentioned something that’s been bothering me.”

Jake waited, his silence an invitation to continue.

“She said her father looked terrified. His dead body, I mean. Not just in pain, but scared.” Jenna’s grip tightened on the wheel. “And there was this strange thing hanging on his bedroom wall.”

She reached for her phone at a stoplight, pulling up the photo she’d taken. “Here. Ever seen anything like it?”

Jake took the phone, his brow furrowing as he studied the image. “Use of a lot of natural materials,” he commented. “Could this be Native American? Some kind of ceremonial thing, or a dreamcatcher, maybe?”

“That’s what I wondered, but I’ve seen dreamcatchers before. They’re usually more...”

“Attractive?” Jake supplied with the hint of a smile.

“Exactly. This looks almost... I don’t know. Sinister.”

“Sounds like something we’d better look into.”

“I definitely think so.”

The light changed, and Jenna returned her attention to the road, but her mind refused to let go of the image. The web-like structure with its dangling feathers seemed to pulse with malevolent energy even in the photograph.

She wondered, what kind of dreams would a thing like that be expected to catch?

Anyway, she was grateful not for the first time for Jake’s openness to strange matters. A former city cop with a decade on the Kansas City force, Jake Hawkins had every reason to dismiss small-town hunches and whispers of the supernatural. Instead, he’d become her most trusted ally.

“How are the women from the mine?” she asked, shifting topics.

“Living, breathing human beings kept in cages like animals...” He let out a rumbling sigh. “I guess these two were lucky to get out, but it’s going to be a long road back for them—if they ever get there at all.”

“And the one who thought she recognized me?”

“Jill. At least that’s what Ginger kept saying she thought her name was. No last name. Hospital says she’s suffering from severe dehydration, malnutrition, and showing signs of prolonged psychological trauma.”

Jenna’s mind flashed to the skeletal woman’s face, eyes wide with shock and recognition. For a delirious moment, she’d thought the woman might have been mistaking her for Piper. But although her words had sounded certain, there had been confusion in those sunken eyes.

“Can you call the hospital? See if there’s any change?”

Jake nodded, already dialing.

“She’s still unconscious,” he said after he finished the call. “Stable, but it’s serious.”

“I keep thinking about what she said,” Jenna admitted. “‘It’s you! You’ve come back!’ Like she knew me.”

“She was delirious, Jenna. Severely dehydrated, kept in darkness for who knows how long.” Jake’s voice was gentle. “People say all kinds of things in that state.”

“I know. It’s just...” She trailed off, unable to articulate the feeling that had lodged in her chest since the moment those desperate eyes had locked onto hers.

They drove in companionable silence for a few minutes, the familiar streets of Trentville sliding by outside the windows. The afternoon sun caught on the weathered brick facades of downtown, bathing them in golden light that belied the menace Jenna felt gathering around them.

City Hall soon loomed ahead, its limestone exterior gleaming in the afternoon sun.

The building housed not only the administrative offices for Trentville but also the county coroner’s office and morgue.

Jenna had walked these hallways thousands of times over her career, but today they seemed charged with an energy she couldn’t name.

They found Melissa Stark in her office, peering at a computer screen through reading glasses perched on the end of her nose. The county coroner looked up as they entered, her practical bob of salt-and-pepper hair swinging with the movement.

“Sheriff Graves, Deputy Hawkins. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Her tone was professional but warm. Melissa had been county coroner since before Jenna joined the force, and they’d developed a relationship of mutual respect over the years.

“Richard Winters,” Jenna said without preamble. “Anything unusual?”

Melissa’s eyebrows rose toward her hairline. “I haven’t done the autopsy yet. Why? Has something come up?”

“Just curious if you noticed anything when you were called to the scene.”

“Besides a deceased man who appeared to have suffered cardiac arrest? Yeah, you might say that there was something.” Melissa removed her glasses, letting them hang from a chain around her neck. “Would you like to see for yourself?”

Without waiting for an answer, she rose and led them down the stairs that led to the basement level where the morgue was located. The temperature dropped noticeably as they entered the sterile environment, the sharp scent of disinfectant filling Jenna’s nostrils.

The clinical whiteness of the walls and floors stood in stark contrast to the warm, lived-in feel of the Winters’ home she’d left earlier.

Melissa moved to one of the refrigerated drawers set into the wall and pulled it open smoothly.

Richard Winters lay beneath a sheet, his face pale in death.

But it was his expression that caught Jenna’s attention immediately.

Even in the quiet repose of death, his features were contorted in an unmistakable mask of terror.

“Wow,” Jake muttered beside her.

“That’s... unusual, isn’t it?” Jenna asked, looking to Melissa. “For a heart attack victim?”

Melissa nodded slowly. “I’ve seen my share of cardiac arrests. Yes, there’s often pain reflected in the facial muscles initially, but they typically relax shortly after death. This...” She gestured at Richard’s frozen expression. “This is something else.”

“Fear,” Jenna said quietly.

“Extreme terror,” Melissa agreed. “Like he saw something that literally scared him to death.”

Rusty’s words echoed in Jenna’s mind: “Dad looked terrified, Jenna. Not just in pain, but scared.”

“Could something have frightened him severely enough to trigger the heart attack?” Jake asked.

“It’s possible,” Melissa said. “Acute fear response triggers adrenaline, raises blood pressure, increases heart rate. In someone with a pre-existing condition...” She shrugged. “I’ll know more after the autopsy.”

“There was something…odd…in his bedroom,” Jenna said, pulling out her phone again. “Hanging on the wall opposite his bed.”

She showed Melissa the photo.

The coroner studied it, then shook her head. “I saw that when I was at the scene. Didn’t make much of an impression on me.”

“Any idea what it could be?” Jenna asked.

Melissa squinted at the image. “Looks like a dreamcatcher to me. Probably Native American in origin.”

Jenna nodded, taking back the device. “Think there’s a chance it was used in some kind of ritual involving hallucinogens?”

Melissa frowned thoughtfully, crossing her arms. “I suppose it’s possible—something like ayahuasca or peyote comes to mind. But Richard Winters? Hard to imagine him dabbling in that sort of thing. He was always so buttoned-up, you know? A banker through and through.”

Jenna considered this, recalling Richard as a dedicated family man who had shown little interest in anything beyond his work and home life. “Yeah, I can’t picture him experimenting with mind-altering substances either.”

“Is this going to be one of your peculiar cases, Sheriff?” Melissa asked.

The question held no malice, but Jenna felt herself tense all the same. Like Colonel Spelling, Melissa had long harbored suspicions about Jenna’s unconventional methods. But neither had ever pushed for explanations she wasn’t prepared to give.

“Just covering all the bases,” Jenna replied evenly.

Melissa slid the drawer closed with a soft thud that seemed to echo in the sterile space. “I’ll call you with the autopsy results tomorrow. And I’ll also rush the toxicology, see if he had any drugs in his system.”

“Thanks, Melissa. I appreciate it.”

As they left City Hall and walked back to the cruiser, Jake checked his watch. “We’ve got to head over to meet Spelling and the FBI team.”

Jenna nodded, her mind racing. The day’s events swirled through her thoughts – the Harvesters’ underground prison, Jill’s strange recognition, Richard Winters’ terrified expression, and the mysterious object in his room. Separate investigations, both of which presented an awful lot to deal with.

“So let’s go deal with the feds,” she said, sliding behind the wheel.

Jake settled into the passenger seat, his presence solid and reassuring. “You okay?”

The question was simple, but Jenna heard the layers beneath it. He wasn’t just asking about the case or the upcoming meeting. He was asking about the shadows he’d seen in her eyes since they’d pulled that skeletal woman from the darkness.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, surprising herself with her honesty. “Something about all of this is... disturbing. I can’t explain it.”

“You don’t have to,” Jake said quietly. “Not to me.”

The words settled around her like a warm blanket. Jake’s acceptance of her intuitions – however unconventional or unexplainable – had become a cornerstone of their partnership. And perhaps, she admitted to herself as she pulled away from the curb, something more.

The familiar sight of the police station came into view ahead, promising answers but likely to bring more questions.

Jenna took a deep breath, centering herself for the challenges that she was sure lay ahead.

She had Jake beside her, her own stubborn determination, and the unique insights she wasn’t yet ready to name aloud.

Jenna parked the car, then glanced at Jake, drawing strength from his steady presence.

“Ready?” he asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” she replied, stepping out to face whatever came next.