Page 11 of In Her Fears (Jenna Graves #8)

Standing in Chloe’s backyard, Jenna pulled out her phone and dialed the station. Every instinct told her that Alexis Downey’s disappearance wasn’t some simple misunderstanding—it was connected to her dream, to the Pinecrest murder, to something dark that was taking shape around them.

Jake approached from where he’d been examining the back gate. “Nothing obvious there,” he reported, keeping his voice low enough that Chloe, who stood on the back porch looking anxious, couldn’t hear. “No signs of struggle.”

“If someone took her, they were careful about it,” Jenna murmured. “Maybe someone she didn’t find threatening.”

Her phone buzzed with a text—the dispatcher confirming that officers were en route. Jenna slipped the device back into a pocket and turned toward the house.

“Chloe, officers will be here soon to start a more thorough search. I know this is difficult, but I need you to think—did Alexis mention any problems lately? Anyone making her uncomfortable, following her, anything unusual at all?”

Chloe shook her head, a strand of dark hair falling across her face.

“No, nothing like that. I mean, she gets the occasional creep at the café, but nothing serious.” She brushed the hair back nervously.

“She was happy, you know? Everything was good with Ryan, she loved her job, she was excited about moving in with him...”

The sound of car doors slamming out front interrupted her. Moments later, Officer Maria Delgado appeared at the side of the house, followed by Mike Donovan and two younger officers.

“Sheriff,” Delgado greeted her with a nod, her keen eyes already scanning the backyard. She was one of Jenna’s most empathetic officers, which made her perfect for this assignment. Donovan stood beside her, his kind eyes serious beneath a receding hairline.

“Officer Delgado, Officer Donovan,” Jenna acknowledged them. “This is Chloe Bennett, roommate of our missing person, Alexis Downey.”

Delgado stepped forward and introduced herself to Chloe with gentle professionalism, while Jenna took the other officers aside and sketched out for them what she knew about what had happened, including that Chloe had mistakenly assumed that Alexis had gone to spend the night with her boyfriend.

“I want a thorough search of the area,” she then instructed. “Check the alley behind the house, talk to all neighbors who might have been home last night. Look for any security cameras that might have captured something. Alexis was last seen here around nine or ten PM, sitting at that telescope.”

“On it, Sheriff,” Donovan said, already pulling out a small notebook.

“What about the boyfriend?” one of the younger officers asked.

“Deputy Hawkins and I will be heading to interview him next,” Jenna replied. “His name is Ryan Kimball. Works at Melody Junction Music Shop.”

Chloe stepped away from her conversation with Delgado, her cell phone in hand. “I need to call the hospital,” she said. “I can’t go to my shift, not now.”

“Of course,” Jenna said. “Take whatever time you need.”

As Chloe retreated inside to make her call, Jenna turned back to Delgado. “Stay with her,” she said quietly. “She shouldn’t be alone right now, and she might remember something important.”

“I understand,” Delgado replied. “And if we find anything?”

“Call me immediately.” Jenna looked once more at the telescope, still aimed at where the full moon had been the previous night. The connection to her dream—a full moon, a woman in trouble—sent a chill through her that had nothing to do with the morning air.

Jake appeared at her elbow. “Ready to head out?”

She nodded, but as they walked around the side of the house toward their patrol car, she was seized by a wave of exhaustion, and the world seemed to tilt slightly beneath her feet. Jake’s steady hand caught her elbow.

“Whoa there,” he said, concern evident in his voice.

“I’m fine,” she replied automatically, though they both knew it wasn’t true.

They reached the car, and Jenna hesitated before the driver’s side door, keys in hand. Pride warred with responsibility for a brief moment before the latter won out.

“Would you mind driving?” she asked, holding the keys out to Jake. “I’m not... I don’t think I should be behind the wheel right now.”

Jake’s surprise was momentary, quickly replaced by understanding. She never relinquished control easily, especially not while on duty. The fact that she was doing so now spoke volumes about her condition.

“No problem,” he said, taking the keys without further comment.

Once they were settled in the car, Jake pulled away from the curb, navigating the quiet residential streets. The silence stretched between them until he finally broke it.

“You’re running on fumes, Jenna,” he said, glancing at her briefly before returning his eyes to the road. “When was the last time you actually slept? And I mean really slept, not just closed your eyes for an hour.”

Jenna rubbed her temples. “I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve slept much since Martin Holbrook’s murder.”

“That was a month ago,” Jake continued, his voice softer now. “I’m worried about you. You can’t keep pushing yourself like this.”

“I don’t have much choice,” she replied. “Not with Alexis missing, not with...” She trailed off.

“Not with what?” Jake pressed.

“Not with the feeling that this is just the beginning,” she finally said. “That dream wasn’t random, Jake. The timing, the connection to the full moon, the warning about someone making ‘another masterpiece’... It’s all connected.”

Jake turned onto Main Street, heading toward the Melody Junction Music Shop. “Connected to the Pinecrest murder? You think whoever killed Martin Holbrook took Alexis?”

“I don’t know,” Jenna admitted, frustration coloring her tone. “I just know that I’ve learned to trust these... impressions. And right now, everything in me is screaming that Alexis is in serious danger, if she’s even still—” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

Jake reached across the center console, his hand briefly squeezing hers before returning to the steering wheel. “One way or another, we’ll figure this out.”

Jenna appreciated his confidence, even if she couldn’t fully share it. Her exhaustion was making each thought harder to form, each connection more difficult to trace. Yet amid the fog of fatigue, one certainty remained—they were up against something they hadn’t faced before.

“There it is,” Jake said, nodding toward a storefront ahead on the right. A painted sign hung above the door: MELODY JUNCTION MUSIC SHOP, with a treble clef worked into the design.

Jenna straightened in her seat. Alexis’s boyfriend might have answers they desperately needed, whether he realized it or not. And if he was somehow involved... well, she’d dealt with killers before, even when she wasn’t at her best.

Jake pulled into a parking space directly in front of the shop.

Through the large front window, Jenna could see display cases filled with musical instruments and a figure moving around inside.

They got out of the car and went into a cramped space filled with instruments hanging from walls and perched on stands—guitars in various finishes, brass instruments catching the morning light, a keyboard display in the corner.

A young man looked up from behind the counter where he’d been restringing an acoustic guitar. He had slightly shaggy hair that fell across his forehead, a lean build, and was wearing a flannel shirt rolled up to reveal forearms covered in music-themed tattoos.

His eyes widened slightly at the sight of the Sheriff's uniform, hands freezing mid-motion.

“Ryan Kimball?” Jenna asked.

“That’s me,” he confirmed, setting the guitar down with careful hands. “Is this about Alexis? Did you find her?” Hope and fear tangled in his expression.

“I’m Sheriff Graves, and this is Deputy Hawkins,” Jenna said, approaching the counter. “We’re investigating Alexis’s disappearance. When did you last hear from her, Mr. Kimball?”

Ryan ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. “Last night, around ten. I was playing at the Centaur’s Den, and I texted her during my break.” He pulled out his phone and brought up the message. “Here.”

He held out the phone for Jenna to see. The text conversation showed the note from Ryan: “Just finished first set. Miss you.” Alexis had replied: “Miss you too.”

“And that was the last contact you had from her?” Jake asked.

Ryan nodded, taking the phone back. “Yeah. I tried texting her again after my second set, around eleven-thirty, but she didn’t respond. I figured she’d fallen asleep or decided to stay home.”

“That didn’t concern you?” Jenna asked, studying his face carefully.

“Not really,” Ryan said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “It’s happened before. Sometimes she says she’ll come over, but then she gets caught up in a book or falls asleep early. Especially when she’s had a long shift at the café.”

“So you didn’t check on her?” Jake’s tone was neutral, but the question had unavoidable implications.

Ryan’s shoulders tensed. “I didn’t want to wake her if she was sleeping. And honestly, I was pretty beat myself when I got home. The Den was packed; we did an extra set.” His eyes darted between them. “Look, if I’d had any idea something was wrong—”

“When did you become aware that Alexis was missing?” Jenna interrupted.

“This morning, when Chloe called,” Ryan said, distress evident in his voice. “Around seven, maybe? She asked if Alexis was with me, and when I said no, she told me Alexis wasn’t at home either.”

His concern seemed genuine, but Jenna had encountered skilled manipulators before. She found herself second-guessing every impression, analyzing and re-analyzing his words and body language.

“What did you do after that call?”

“I called everyone we know,” Ryan said, gesturing toward his phone. “Friends, coworkers at the café, people from her classes at community college. Nobody’s seen or heard from her since yesterday.”

He reached beneath the counter and pulled out a framed photograph—Alexis and Ryan at what appeared to be a music festival, her arms wrapped around his waist, both grinning into the camera.

“We’re supposed to move in together at the end of the month,” he said, his voice dropping. “We’ve been planning it for weeks.”

Jenna felt a pang of sympathy, but professional caution kept her from fully embracing it.

Relationships were often the most dangerous ground for young women.

Statistics didn’t lie—partners and exes posed significant threats.

And yet, the theatrical nature of the Pinecrest murder didn’t align with typical domestic violence patterns.

“Mr. Kimball,” she said, choosing her words carefully, “have you been to Pinecrest recently? Perhaps in the last month or so?”

The question clearly caught him off guard. “Pinecrest? No, not for ages. Maybe not since college.” His brow furrowed. “What does Pinecrest have to do with Alexis?”

“Just covering all possibilities,” Jenna replied, noting his apparent confusion. Either he was genuinely perplexed by the question, or he was an exceptional actor.

“Is there anyone you can think of who might want to harm Alexis?” Jake asked, steering the conversation back on track. “Any conflicts, arguments, people who showed too much interest in her?”

Ryan shook his head slowly. “No, nothing like that. Everybody loves Alexis.” His use of the present tense didn’t escape Jenna’s notice. “She’s got this way about her, you know? Makes people feel good about themselves.”

Before Jenna could follow up, her phone rang. The screen displayed a familiar name—the lead ranger at Whispering Pines Forest.

“Sheriff Graves,” she answered.

“Sheriff, it’s Billy Schmidt.” His normally steady voice sounded strained. “We’ve got a situation out at the old hunting lodge here in Whispering Pines. A hiker found a body this morning. Female, probably mid-twenties.”

The room seemed to tilt around Jenna,. “Condition?” she asked, her voice tightly controlled.

“Dead,” Billy replied grimly. “Hanging from the rafters. It’s... it’s not good, Sheriff.”

“Have you identified the victim?”

“No, but we might be able to do that soon. I’ll explain it to you when you get here.”

Jenna closed her eyes briefly, her dream flashing behind her eyelids—blood splattering across blank canvases like abstract art. “Send me the coordinates. We’re on our way.”

She ended the call and turned to Jake, whose expression told her he’d already guessed the nature of the call.

“Body?” he asked quietly.

Jenna nodded, then turned to Ryan, whose face had drained of color. “Mr. Kimball, I need you to stay in town and remain available for further questions.”

“Is it—” Ryan’s voice cracked. “Is it Alexis?”

“We don’t know yet,” Jenna said, though her instincts were screaming otherwise. “We’ll contact you as soon as we have more information.”

She stepped away, already dialing the station. “I need officers to Whispering Pines Forest immediately,” she instructed when the dispatcher answered. “Coordinates to follow. Possible homicide.”

Jake was already on his own phone, contacting Dr. Melissa Stark to dispatch the coroner’s team. Jenna glanced back at Ryan, who had sunk onto a stool behind the counter, staring at the photograph of himself and Alexis with an expression of dread.

“We have to go,” she told him, already moving toward the door. “An officer will follow up with you shortly.”

As they rushed back to the patrol car, Jenna felt the pieces clicking together in her mind—the Pinecrest murder, the dream, Alexis’s disappearance, and now a body at an abandoned hunting lodge.

Whatever dark pattern was forming, it was no longer lurking at the edges of her awareness.

It was coming into terrible, unmistakable focus.