Page 26 of In Her Fears (Jenna Graves #8)

Elias Harrow emerged from the tunnel and stood for a moment, staring.

His artist's eye registered the silvery light pooling on the forest floor, transforming the familiar woods into something ethereal, a landscape both alien and intimate, just as it had been seven years ago on a night just like this.

That was the last time he’d actually been out here.

He paused, letting his eyes adjust to the brightness of the full moon.

For generations, his family had maintained this secret passage; the entrance behind him was nearly invisible—a small opening in the hillside, partially concealed by a natural formation of rock and the strategic placement of native shrubs.

As a child, he’d played in these woods, treating the tunnel as his own private adventure, never fully appreciating its historical significance. Tonight, at fifty-three, haggard and hollow-cheeked, he used it for a more personal escape.

“Almost there, Lina,” he whispered.

Memories flickered across his consciousness: the checkered blanket spread across the small clearing, the bottle of wine, Lina’s nervous smile that he’d misinterpreted as anticipation rather than guilt.

The wicker basket she’d packed with such care.

So ordinary, so domestic, for a night that would end in such devastation.

When he'd said to Lina and Eric, "How long have you two been betraying me?" Lina's face had changed, horror and shame washing across her features. Eric, his best friend, had gone pale, his hand frozen in midair, wine glass tilting dangerously.

“Elias, please,” Lina had whispered. “It’s not what you think.”

But there had been no explanation that could repair what had been broken. Their betrayal had been thorough, conducted while he’d been consumed with his art, blind to the fracturing of his marriage. By morning, Lina was dead. Her final devastating act had shattered what remained of his world.

For seven years, he had been trapped in grief, suspended in time.

Perhaps tonight, under the same full moon, he might finally break free and find the peace that had eluded him for so long.

With this hope guiding him, Elias Harrow continued through the moonlit woods, unaware that he was not the only one making his way toward the picnic spot on this anniversary night.

***

The patrol car’s headlights swept across Elias Harrow’s weathered farmhouse as Jake pulled into the gravel drive.

“How should we proceed?” Officer Delgado asked when she walked to the car to meet them.

As Jenna and Jake got out of the car, the second officer, Mike Donovan, rounded the house to see who had pulled up.

“You two stay at your stations,” Jenna said. “We don’t want anybody slipping out.” Mike turned and headed back to his post at the back door. Maria nodded, but she followed them toward the house.

“Doesn’t look like anyone’s home,” Jake observed. The house was dark and quiet.

“We’ll try knocking,” Jenna agreed, starting toward the porch.

They hurried to the front door and Jake rapped sharply on the weathered wood, the sound echoing inside the empty house.

No response came.

Jake called out, “Mr. Harrow? This is the Genesius County Sheriff’s Department. We need to speak with you.”

Jenna turned to Officer Delgado and chose her words carefully. “Maria, I need to be honest with you,” Jenna said. “We don’t have probable cause to enter this house. My... intuition isn’t admissible in court.”

Delgado frowned. “But you believe something is wrong?”

Jenna placed a hand on Delgado’s shoulder. “Maria, why don’t you return to the car and monitor the radio? Jake and I will... check the perimeter.”

Understanding dawned in the young officer’s eyes. “Sheriff, if you’re planning to—”

“The less you know, the better for your career,” Jenna interrupted firmly. “Consider this an order. Go to the vehicle and wait for our call.”

Delgado hesitated, clearly torn between duty and obedience, but she finally nodded and retreated down the steps.

“You’re protecting her,” Jake observed quietly.

“And you’re about to break the law with me,” Jenna replied, meeting his gaze. “Last chance to back out.”

Jake’s mouth quirked into a half-smile. “I think that a window will be the fastest way in.”

They moved quickly to a window at one side of the door. Jake removed a multi-tool from his pocket and worked at the ancient latch. The window soon gave with a groan of protest, and Jake pushed it up.

Jenna hoisted herself through the opening. She landed in the living room, with Jake close behind her. They made a quick run through the house to make sure that Elias wasn’t anywhere. Then they rushed to the basement and found the big painting studio empty and silent.

“If there really is a tunnel, it must start down here,” Jake said, flashing his light around the space.

"There," Jenn said, pointing. "Behind those shelves." The big wooden shelves stood slightly off the wall on one side.

“Good eye,” Jake murmured as they looked at it. “There’s a track here. It’s designed to move.”

Together, they pushed against the side of the bookshelf. It slid smoothly along the track, revealing a dark opening in the wall behind it—an arched tunnel entrance reinforced with old timber.

“The Underground Railroad,” Jake said reverently, shining his light into the passage. “This tunnel probably leads to somewhere in the woods.”

The passage was narrow, forcing them to walk single file. Jenna tried not to think about the weight of earth above them or what might happen if the aging timbers gave way. Finally, she stopped. “I think we’re getting close. I can feel fresh air.”

A few more yards brought them to the tunnel’s exit, and they emerged into the moonlit forest, the night air a relief.

“Any idea which way to the picnic spot?” Jake asked, holstering his flashlight now that the full moon provided ample light to see.

Jenna shook her head. “My dream didn’t show the route. But I’m sure it’s not far from here.”

“We’ll cover more ground if we split up,” Jake suggested, already checking his service weapon.

Jenna nodded reluctantly. “I’ll go to the right, you head the other way. Keep your phone on vibrate—no calls unless absolutely necessary.”

Jake’s expression was serious as he met her gaze. “Watch yourself, Jenna. First sign of trouble, you call me.”

“Same goes for you.” She touched his arm briefly, then turned away, already moving into the trees.

***

Eric Edwards moved quietly through the moonlit forest. The knife in his right hand felt right, comfortable.

He was oddly calm, his breathing steady, his purpose clear.

He paused at the crest of a small rise, listening to the night sounds around him.

The moon was full and bright overhead, the same moon that had witnessed Lina’s final night.

The memory twisted something inside him. Lina had been fragile, her depression a constant shadow even in their most intimate moments. She had shattered under the weight of exposure, and Elias had simply walked away, leaving her to crumble alone.

Movement in the distance drew his attention—a figure weaving through the trees about fifteen yards away. Eric froze, becoming one with the shadows as he assessed this unexpected presence.

The moonlight revealed that it was the deputy sheriff, Jake Hawkins.

Eric pressed himself against the trunk of a massive oak, his dark clothing blending with the shadows.

He saw that the man was alert but not expecting immediate danger.

His focus seemed to be on finding someone—Elias, presumably—not on protecting himself from an attack.

Eric knew he had to dispose of this intruder before he could continue to the picnic spot where Elias would inevitably appear, drawn by the same anniversary.

He began to move, sliding from shadow to shadow with the patience of a predator.

Each step was placed with care to prevent any telltale snap of twigs.

Fortunately for him, the forest floor was damp and not cluttered with underbrush.

The deputy stopped, turning slowly in place, his hand moving to his weapon. Something had alerted him—some subtle sound, perhaps, or the instinct that experienced law enforcement officers developed over years of facing danger.

Eric froze, becoming utterly still. He controlled his breathing, taking shallow, silent breaths as he watched the deputy scan the darkness.

Jake’s gaze passed over Eric’s position without pausing, the shadows concealing him effectively.

After a moment, the deputy resumed his search pattern, moving away from Eric’s position.

Eric stepped carefully over a fallen branch, his movements fluid and silent. The forest seemed to hold its breath around them. He tightened his grip on the knife.

Only a few yards separated them now. Still he hesitated. The deputy was younger and strong, surely well-trained and armed with a gun. Could he try to brush this man aside without severe damage to himself? Even death?

Then the deputy paused, reaching for his phone.

The screen's glow illuminated his face as he checked something—a message, perhaps, or a map.

The light made the deputy vulnerable, and his night vision would be compromised for several crucial seconds.

Never one to waste an opportunity, Eric quickened his pace.

***

Jenna cautiously stepped into the clearing she’d been seeking, the moon casting a silvery glow over the open space.

The scene was eerily familiar, matching the fragmented images from her dream, causing an unsettling sense of déjà vu.

Suddenly, a rustling sound to her left drew her attention, and Elias emerged, his gaunt figure barely distinguishable against the darkened trees.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded, his voice edged with suspicion and something else—fear?

Before Jenna could respond, a sudden force collided with her from behind. She staggered but quickly twisted to face her attacker: Eric. His eyes were wild with madness, and a knife was in his hand.

Reacting on instinct, Jenna drove her knee upward into his him as she reached for her gun.

But Eric was relentless. His knife flashed ominously as it arced downward.

She felt its blade slice through fabric before grazing skin—a searing line of pain flared along her arm, causing her to drop the gun.

They both tumbled onto the forest floor, locked in a fierce battle for the knife.

From the corner of her eye, Jenna caught sight of Elias. He had picked up a thick branch, and now he was standing over them, his gaunt face transformed by a strange determination. For a terrifying moment, Jenna couldn’t tell which of them he intended to strike.

“Elias—” she began, but her warning was cut short as the branch came down with surprising force, striking Eric across the shoulders.

Eric howled in pain, momentarily releasing his grip on Jenna. She seized the opportunity, scrambling backward through fallen leaves, her injured arm throbbing with every movement. Her gun lay several feet away, half-buried in leaves.

Eric scrambled to his feet, still holding the knife, aiming not for Jenna but for Elias. The two men collided with a sickening thud. Jenna launched herself toward her weapon, seizing the familiar grip as she rolled and came up in a shooter’s stance.

“Don’t move, Eric,” she ordered, her voice steady despite her racing heart. “Hands where I can see them.”

Eric raised his hands slowly, his eyes darting between Jenna and Elias, who still gripped the branch like a club.

“On your stomach, arms out to your sides,” Jenna commanded. “I will shoot if I have to.”

For a tense moment, she thought Eric might resist. Then his shoulders slumped, and he complied, lying face-down on the forest floor. Keeping her weapon trained on him, Jenna approached cautiously, retrieving her handcuffs from her belt.

The metal clicked around Eric’s wrists with cold finality. Only when he was secured did Jenna allow herself a deep breath, the adrenaline still coursing through her veins making her fingers tremble slightly.

She turned to Elias, who stood watching with an unreadable expression, the branch now hanging loosely from his fingers.

“Are you hurt?” she asked.

He shook his head no.

She pulled out her phone, tapping Jake’s number. It rang once, twice, three times, then went to voicemail.

“Jake,” she called, “I’ve got Eric in custody at the clearing. Call me.”

When there was no response, she tried again, with the same result. The knot in her stomach tightened as a terrible possibility dawned on her.

“Where’s my deputy?” she demanded, turning to Eric.

He looked, a strange smile twisting his lips. “Your watchdog? He was getting too close.”

“What did you do to him?”

Eric’s smile widened, revealing teeth stained with his own blood. “Time isn’t on his side, Sheriff.”

“Where is he?”

“I could take you to him,” Eric offered, his voice dripping with false helpfulness. “But why would I do that?”

“Because if he dies,” Jenna’s voice was steel, “I’ll personally make sure you never leave here either.”

The smirk faded from Eric’s face, replaced by a calculating look.

“I can show you” he said finally.

Jenna turned to Elias, who had sunk to a sitting position on a fallen log, his thin frame seeming to collapse in on itself now that the immediate danger had passed.

“I need to find my deputy,” she said. “You’re coming with me.”

She pulled Elias to his feet, her anxiety rising with each passing second that Jake might be bleeding out somewhere in these woods.

With Eric secured in front of her and Elias at her side, Jenna began moving through the forest in the direction Eric indicated.

She kept her weapon on Eric, and Elias was still holding his branch.

Jenna’s heart pounded against her ribs.

“Jake,” she murmured under her breath. “Please be alive.”

They crested a small rise, and there, propped against the trunk of an oak tree, was Jake.

Her heart stuttered at the sight of him. His shirt was dark with blood, his face ashen, one hand pressed weakly against his abdomen. But his eyes were open, finding hers as she scrambled down the slope toward him.

“Took you long enough,” he managed, his attempt at a smile more of a grimace.