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The sight of the remains in the water was profoundly disturbing - a grim testament to how six years under the watery veil could transform a person into an unrecognizable specter of their former self.

Even so, Jenna could see that a light metal chain was still wrapped around the neck of the corpse. The flesh had yielded to decay, but the cold metal resisted time’s claim, a silent marker of the man who had been. Hanging from it was a small cylindrical piece of metal. Perhaps it had once held a personal trinket of some kind.

Although she was sure they had found Clive Carroway that chain might help with a legal identification. Jenna wasted no time snapping a picture of it with her cellphone.

Carl Reeves seemed badly shaken. “Never had to deal with anything like this before,” he said. “Not quite sure how to handle something that … uh, likely to fall apart.”

“I see you’ve got a fishnet under one of the seats,” Jake noted.

Carl grumbled in assent. He pulled out a wide fishnet net and worked it around the remains of the body. “Guess that will help get most of it to shore,” he commented.

The motorboat’s engine hummed softly as he moved the boat slowly toward the water’s edge, tugging the body behind. Jenna spotted Paul Rauer’s figure waiting there. He had walked along the reservoir bank to check on their search.

As the bow scraped the dried-up shoreline, Jenna jumped out. The others followed, their movements deliberate, each step heavy with the weight of what they were about to do.

Paul’s face was pale, the color of old parchment, as he looked down at the macabre discovery still in the water. His role as dam operator had never prepared him for this grim tableau.

“Can’t believe this,” he said. “That’s been underwater such a long time. We never knew.”

Jenna stood by as Carl deftly spread a plastic tarp on the ground. Then, he and Paul spoke together about how to handle their task. A decision made, they moved the tarp into the water and edged it beneath the human bones held loosely together by the fishnet.

Then the two men worked together to drag the gruesome remains onto land near the drooping branches of the willow tree, its leaves whispering mournfully in the breeze. Jenna now could see that the victim was wearing a tattered backpack that was falling to pieces. She was sure that it was once filled with stones, the same as the one that had weighed down Mike Larson’s body.

Jenna met Jake’s gaze, her own vivid green eyes flickering with the same resolve that she saw mirrored in his. Without words, they understood: this case wasn’t just about the dead—they were delving into a killer’s cold calculus.

“Let’s cover him,” Jenna said, her voice firm despite the lump in her throat. The tarp rustled sharply as they wrapped the waterlogged remains, punctuating the silence that had fallen over the group.

The body encased in blue plastic seemed almost anonymous now, but Jenna knew it was a story cut short, a life violently seized. The Sablewood Reservoir was becoming a cryptic anthology of loss. She took a moment to look at the faces of her companions, seeing the same stunned horror reflected back at her.

“Paul,” Jenna said, snapping back to the moment. “Call up Dr. Melissa Stark, the coroner. We need her team here right away.”

The dam operator nodded, though his usual stoicism was cracked by the tremor in his hands as he fumbled with his phone. Jenna watched him step away, his shoulders hunched as if bracing against an unseen storm.

As Carl secured the last corner of the tarp, Jenna glanced at the body once more, then away, her gaze drawn irresistibly to the still waters of the reservoir. It was a perfect mirror for the sky, but beneath that serene reflection, she knew there lay more secrets waiting to be exhumed.

Jenna leaned toward Jake. “We have to drag the reservoir,” she murmured, barely above the sound of rustling leaves. “There might be more... like Larson, like this one.”

Jake’s face was a mask of grim agreement. “‘There were three of us,’” he quoted the words from her dream. “Things are going to get complicated. Should we loop in Mayor Simmons? Even though her domain is Trentville, she’ll be eager to manage publicity about something like this anywhere in the county.”

Jenna shook her head. The thought of the mayor’s reaction—her political dance around the truth—was enough to steer her decision. This was not a time for bureaucracy or fear of scandal. And the last thing she wanted was for the mayor to try to stop their search altogether, and she was afraid she would do just that.

“No, I’ll handle it,” Jenna said. “I’ll talk to Spelling directly.”

“Do you think he’ll approve of this kind of operation?” Jake said.

Jake’s raised eyebrow mirrored her own doubts about Colonel Spelling’s willingness to stir the waters—literally and figuratively. And she had no concrete reason to think there was a third body except a ghost in a dream telling her, “There are three of us.” It wasn’t something she could tell Spelling. But Jenna raised her cellphone.

“It’s up to me to persuade him,” she affirmed, the edge in her tone cutting through any semblance of doubt. She signaled her next move with a nod toward Carl and Rauer, who were just out of earshot.

“Keep them busy for a few minutes. Start preparing them for the task ahead.”

Jake’s compliance was immediate, his voice rising just enough to draw the attention of their companions as he began a technical discussion on dragging techniques. Jenna turned slightly away, allowing the hushed conversation to become white noise against the backdrop of her task.

She pressed the call button, the line connecting with an urgency that matched her pulse.

“Spelling,” came the prompt answer, authoritative and imbued with a measured curiosity. Jenna cleared her throat, grounding herself in the gravity of her role.

“Colonel, it’s Jenna Graves. We’ve found another body at the reservoir,” she told him, her report crisp and devoid of unnecessary emotion.

“Another?” The highway patrol superintendent sounded understandably startled.

“That’s right. And I’m afraid there might be at least one more body yet to be found. We need to drag the reservoir.”

“I don’t know about this, Sheriff. That’s a pretty drastic measure. Has Mayor Simmons been briefed on this?”

“Colonel, Mayor Simmons... her priorities are more political than practical at times,” Jenna pointed out. Besides, we don’t need the mayor’s go-ahead for what we do outside of Trentville, and I have reason to believe there might be at least one more victim out here.”

“Reason? What kind of reason?”

Jenna swallowed hard.

“Colonel, I …”

Her voice faded. She couldn’t bring herself to lie. But telling the truth about her dream wasn’t an option. There was a pause on the line, long enough for Jenna to picture Spelling on the other end, his brow furrowed in consternation. She could almost hear his thoughts churning.

“Is this another of your hunches, Sheriff?” Spelling finally asked, without the slightest trace of skepticism in his voice.

“Yes, it is.”

Then, Spelling’s voice cut through the stillness, softer now, tempered by a dawning understanding. “Sheriff Graves, I haven’t forgotten about Amber Stevens,” he began, his tone tinged with a newfound respect. “You said she was missing and in danger, and I didn’t listen until it was almost too late. Your intuition led right to her when logic gave us little to work with.”

The tension that had ensnared Jenna’s muscles began to unravel. Spelling continued, the gravelly timbre of his voice carrying a promise. “You have a knack for seeing beyond the surface, Sheriff. If you say there’s more down there, then that’s good enough for me.”

Relief surged through Jenna, and she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She kept her voice even, professional. “Thank you, Colonel. Your support is vital.”

“Consider it done,” he replied. “I’ll mobilize a team to drag the reservoir, effective immediately.”

As Jenna ended the call, her gaze lingered on the deceptive tranquility of the water, knowing that beneath its serene exterior lurked secrets waiting to be unearthed.

Jenna pressed the phone’s end call button, a faint click severing the connection. Her gaze remained affixed to the Sablewood Reservoir, where the water lay still and deceptively peaceful. It was a cruel kind of beauty—the light playing on the ripples concealed a gruesome secret just moments ago pulled from its depths.

“Good news?” Jake’s voice broke through the silence as he moved back beside her, his eyes searching hers for confirmation. His face bore the marks of the day’s strain.

“Spelling agreed,” Jenna replied, allowing herself a small smile. It was a victory, albeit a somber one, amid the darkness of their work.

Side by side, Jenna and Jake stood at the water’s edge, their postures relaxed but their minds anything but. The quiet hum of nature was suddenly pierced by the wail of sirens, growing louder as they neared. Jenna’s head turned towards the sound, sighting the flash of red and blue lights cutting through the tree line. Dr. Melissa Stark and her team had arrived, punctuating the scene with a sense of urgency as their van came to a halt close to them.

The van doors swung open to reveal figures clad in white hazmat suits. Then they disembarked and moved with purpose, unpacking equipment.

“Here we go,” Jake muttered under his breath, his focus also on the flurry of activity as technicians began setting up lights and marking the perimeter.

Dr. Melissa Stark descended from the van, her hazmat suit crinkling with every step as she approached Jenna and Jake by the water’s edge.

“Two bodies in as many days,” Dr. Stark said, removing her mask to reveal a grim expression that matched the severity of her words. “What in the world is going on here, Sheriff?”

Jenna met the coroner’s gaze evenly. “It’s a complex situation,” she began, her tone measured despite the churn of insights only she could understand. “You need to have a look at the body.”

Jenna stepped aside as Melissa walked over to the body and pulled back its covering.

“This one was wearing a backpack too,” Melissa observed right away.

“My guess is it was also filled with stones,” Jenna said.

“It’s sounding less and less like suicide, isn’t it?” Melissa said in a tone of deliberate understatement. “More like someone trying to hide the dead, just as you suggested.”

“I’m afraid so, Melissa. Colonel Spelling is arranging for a team to drag the reservoir tonight.”

The coroner’s eyes narrowed slightly as she mulled over the information, her mind undoubtedly sifting through the implications. “So you believe there might be even more?” Her voice was hushed, barely audible above the gentle lapping of water against the shore.

Jenna nodded solemnly, an affirmation heavy with the weight of certainty. “I’m fairly sure there’s at least one more victim out there.”

“Let’s hope that’s all,” Dr. Stark replied, her professionalism masking the concern in her eyes. “Who do you think this one is?” The coroner’s voice was measured, clinical, but not unkind.

“Clive Carroway,” Jenna replied without hesitation, her voice steady despite the churn of emotions inside her. “He vanished from Colstock about six years ago. It fits the pattern of the first one in spite of the separation in time.”

Dr. Stark paused, considering this. “I’ll see what I can do with dental records. But this one will be tougher to identify. Six years in the water is a hell of a long time.”

“There’s something else that might help with identification,” Jenna told her, pointing to the chain around the corpse’s neck.

“We’ll check that out too,” Dr. Stark said as she turned away to finish coordinating with her team, who were setting up their white tents and laying out the tools of their grim trade.

“What now?” Jake’s question was soft, meant for her ears alone.

Jenna let out a slow breath, feeling the weight of her badge against her chest. “We wait here for whatever comes next when Spelling gets to work. We can’t afford to overlook anything.”

Her eyes moved over the shoreline, seeing that some of the highway patrol had already arrived. The reservoir was now a crime scene, its waters a keeper of secrets.