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The angry glare was short-lived as the creature staring at Jenna turned away and scrambled off through the maze of boxes.

“A racoon,” Jenna announced as she straightened up, watching the animal disappear into another dark corner.

“Seems our ghost has fur and a taste for solitude,” Jenna remarked dryly, turning to see Hilda Thornton standing on the stairs peering toward the activity, her hands clasped together as if in prayer. Frank and Jake stood by, both looking like they were trying hard not to break out in laughter.

“Goodness, Sheriff Graves, I’m so sorry for all the fuss,” Hilda murmured, her face flushing a gentle rose. “I just didn’t know what to think, hearing all that racket and being here all alone.”

“Nothing to worry about, Mrs. Thornton,” Jenna reassured her. “Raccoons are curious creatures. This one likely came in through a loose vent or a gap in the eaves. Getting him out safely is a job for Paws and Harmony Rescue. They’ll make sure your uninvited guest finds a new home away from yours,”

“Thank you, dear,” Hilda replied, her earlier panic replaced with gratitude.

“Hilda,” Frank said, “how about I come by tomorrow and help you secure your attic against future intruders?”

Hilda Thornton looked up at him. “Oh, Frank, would you? I’d feel so much better knowing everything was buttoned up tight.”

“Of course,” he replied. “I’ll collect some materials and give you a phone call before I head over.”

Jenna felt a pang of affection for the man who had taught her almost everything she knew about being a sheriff. He had always been there, a steady presence in the personal turmoil that had gnawed at her since Piper vanished. Frank balanced the line between law enforcers and compassionate human beings with an ease that she admired.

As the group made their way back down the narrow staircase, Jenna pulled out her phone and dialed Dr. Sarah Reynolds at Paws and Harmony Rescue. The call connected, and she kept her explanation brief, laying out the situation with the raccoon and Hilda’s need for assistance.

“Jenna, don’t worry, we’ll dispatch a team immediately,” Sarah’s voice crackled through the reception, efficient and professional.

“Thanks, Sarah. I knew you would be ready to handle it,” Jenna responded, ending the call with a sense of relief.

She and her two companions assured Hilda that everything would soon be taken care of, then bid her goodnight and stepped out onto the porch.

“Another day in Trentville,” Jenna murmured.

Frank clapped a reassuring hand on Jake’s back. “Well, that was certainly an adventure, wasn’t it, son?”

Jenna couldn’t help but smile at the sight. The building of a bond between the aging former Sheriff and the younger deputy was essential to their small team dynamic.

Jake grinned as he brushed at his sleeve, dislodging a stubborn strand of cobweb that had hitched a ride during their impromptu raccoon removal. “I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting to add ‘raccoon wrangler’ to my resume today,” he said with a chuckle.

“Neither did I,” Jenna replied, keeping her tone light.

“Makes the job interesting though, doesn’t it?” Jake mused, his gaze lingering on Jenna for a moment longer than necessary.

“Interesting” was certainly one word for it, Jenna thought. Tonight’s ghost hunt may have ended in fur and raccoon chitters, but Jenna knew all too well that not every shadow held such innocent secrets.

They got into the cruiser and Jenna turned the key in the ignition, the low rumble of the patrol car’s engine breaking the evening quiet.

“You know,” Frank murmured, his gaze fixed beyond the window, “days like this... they remind me why I loved this job so much. Helping people, even with the small things. It feels good to still be useful.”

“Frank, you’re always useful,” Jenna replied. “I’ll never be able to do my job without your insight and experience.”

Frank gave a grunt that might have been agreement or modest dismissal. She shifted the car into drive, pulling away from the curb smoothly, the quiet night enveloping them once again as they left behind Hilda Thornton’s house and the attic-dweller that was soon to be evicted.

The streets of Trentville were nearly empty, adorned only by the occasional flickering streetlight or the dim glow escaping from a resident’s window. The patrol car’s engine hummed softly as it rolled to a stop in front of Frank’s house, the modest bungalow now bathed in the glow of a porch light.

“Thanks for today, Frank,” she said.

Frank nodded, his hand resting on the open car door as if reluctant to part ways. “Keep me posted on the case, will you?” he requested. Then, with a shift in demeanor, his gaze locked onto Jenna’s. “And Jenna,” he added, “don’t forget to ask your mother about that sandpiper dream. Could be important.”

Jenna acknowledged with a quiet, “I will.” She watched him step out into the night, the lines of his figure a familiar silhouette against the amber porch light before disappearing into the comfort of his home.

With Frank gone, Jake moved to the front passenger seat. A hush fell over the car as Jenna redirected their course.

“You okay?” Jake’s voice cut through the stillness.

Jenna exhaled slowly, her focus unyielding on the road ahead. “Yeah, just... preparing myself,” she replied, the weight of responsibility settling on her shoulders. “You know how these meetings can be.”

“I guess we might as well get it over with,” Jake commented. “Since she seems to always work late hours anyhow.”

As Jenna pulled the cruiser up to City Hall, they could see that the windows of the granite edifice were lit brightly and people were still stirring about inside. It was here that decisions were made, directions changed, and futures determined—and the Mayor considered the job so important that she and many who worked for her were available during a wide range of hours.

Jenna killed the engine and stepped out into the cooling evening, and Jake followed suit. They ascended the steps side by side, the rhythm of their footsteps marking their approach. The double doors loomed before them, brass handles gleaming under the exterior lights.

Inside, Jenna led the way to Mayor Claire Simmons’s office, her strides purposeful. She rapped twice on the heavy wooden door before pushing it open.

“Mayor Simmons,” Jenna began, her voice steady as she recounted the day’s findings. Her emerald eyes held the Mayor’s strong gaze, unwavering as she spoke of the disturbing possibility that the corpse discovered might belong to Mike Larson, a name synonymous with various troubles in these parts.

Mayor Simmons, sitting behind her desk like a queen on her throne, leaned forward. Her nails, the color of ripe cherries, tapped a staccato rhythm against the polished wood—a clear sign of impatience. “Well, what are you waiting for?” she demanded. “You need to go to Colstock immediately. Talk to Larson’s family, his friends. We need answers, Sheriff.”

Jenna met the Mayor’s intensity with calm resolve, her mind already sifting through the logistics of such an undertaking. She drew in a controlled breath, gathering her thoughts before speaking. “With all due respect, Mayor, that would be premature. We don’t have a positive ID yet. Dr. Stark is working on that and should have results by morning.”

The Mayor’s hawkish gaze sharpened, her dissatisfaction clear as she leaned back in her chair. “I don’t think you understand the urgency of this situation, Sheriff. I’m telling you to go to Colstock now.”

“Mayor Simmons,” Jenna said, her voice inflected with the authority of her office, “I was elected to serve and protect this community, just as you were chosen to lead it. I will not be swayed by political agendas. I make my decisions based on proper procedure and what’s best for the investigation. We will follow up in Colstock once we have a confirmed identity. We’re hoping to find that out tomorrow morning.”

The standoff between Jenna and Mayor Simmons reached a silent crescendo, the air in the office charged with their unyielding wills. Jenna’s gaze didn’t waver, challenging the Mayor’s hawkish stare without flinching. She could hear Jake standing just behind her, shifting his weight from one foot to another, his discomfort manifesting in a brief clearing of his throat.

The atmosphere seemed to crackle with an electric current as they stood at a stalemate, and then the Mayor finally broke the deadlock with a slight nod, her lips a taut line.

“Fine,” the Mayor said, her tone conveying resignation. “But I expect a full report the moment you have that ID confirmed. Is that clear?”

“Crystal clear, Mayor,” Jenna replied, nodding once with crisp finality. The meeting had reached its end, not with a bang but a simmering ceasefire.

Jenna turned on her heel, signaling Jake with a glance that it was time to leave. As she exited the office, the weight of the encounter lifted slightly from her shoulders, even though she knew the respite would be short-lived. The walk back to the patrol car was a decompression of sorts.

“That was... intense,” Jake remarked as Jenna unlocked the doors, the click of the mechanism punctuating the stillness around them.

“Always is with her. But we stand our ground,” Jenna replied with conviction. “We can’t let political pressure compromise our work.”

The drive to Jake’s apartment passed in a contemplative silence, each lost in their own thoughts. As they drove through the quiet streets of Trentville, the houses blurred into the darkness. Each home held its own secrets, its own stories. Jenna’s mind briefly wandered to the attic they had left behind, to the raccoon that was mistaken for a ghost. A small smile touched her lips—a rare moment of levity in an otherwise heavy day.

The patrol car eased to a stop outside the small Jake had rented when he moved here, the headlights illuminating the familiar path leading to his door. The engine idled, a soft purr in the stillness of the evening, as Jenna put the car in park. They sat there for a moment, wrapped in an awkward silence, each lost in their thoughts. Jenna’s gaze drifted over to Jake, taking in his profile in the dim light.

For a heartbeat, Jenna considered voicing her appreciation to acknowledge the complex bond that was forming between them. But the words felt too revealing, too raw for the professional barriers they upheld. Instead, she offered him a small nod, an unspoken acknowledgment of the day’s trials and the challenges yet to come.

“Goodnight, Jake,” she said softly.

Their gazes held for a beat longer than necessary before Jake cleared his throat and opened the car door.

“See you in the morning, Jenna. Try to get some rest,” he said as he stepped out into the cool night.

Jenna watched him walk away, the distance growing with each step. His presence had become a constant in her life, a reliable source of support and understanding. Her thoughts swirled with the complexities of the case, the unresolved threads of her sister’s disappearance, and the undercurrent of something more between herself and Jake. But now was not the time for personal entanglements; there were duties to fulfill, both to the living and to the memories that haunted her.