Page 9

“Let’s head out,” Jenna said, her voice low even though the crowd had dispersed. She and Jake moved in unison, each step deliberate, carrying them away from the epicenter of today’s revelations toward the modest sanctuary of her patrol vehicle parked outside.

The empty parking lot was bathed in the amber glow of the streetlamp, the sharp contrasts of light and dark mirroring the duality of their situation—spots of clarity, and others of deep, unsettling nothingness.

“What a day, huh?” Jake commented, his voice tinged with exhaustion and disbelief.

Fumbling for her keys, Jenna replied, “And tomorrow’s likely to be just as …” She paused, searching for the right word.

“Strange … tragic … intense,” Jake offered.

“All of those,” Jenna acknowledged, her tone betraying none of the fatigue she felt bone-deep. “In fact, intensity seems to be our baseline these days.”

She unlocked the car, the soft chirp incongruent with the weight of the day’s events. She slipped into the driver’s seat, and Jake settled into the passenger side, the solid thump of the closing doors punctuating the end of one workday and the approach of another.

Her eyes met Jake’s in the dim light, an unspoken understanding passing between them. Then Jenna put the car into gear, the smooth motion a counterpoint to the jagged edges of the day’s memories.

“Are we done for the night?” Jake asked.

“Yeah,” Jenna confirmed. “I’ll drop you off at home.”

She pulled out of the parking spot, the beams of her headlights cutting through the encroaching night, a path forward illuminated if not entirely clear.

Jenna navigated the cruiser through Trentville’s familiar streets. The town, once a backdrop to her childhood adventures, now felt altered by the day’s grim discoveries. Familiar storefronts and streetlamps seemed to hold their breath as if aware that darkness had crept into their center.

She wondered—had it really been just that morning that she and Jake had settled a dispute over a noisy rooster? That seemed so distant, and so normal, compared to the rest of their day.

The sheriff and her deputy rode in companionable silence, Jenna’s still mind turning over and over the puzzle pieces of the case. As turned into Jake’s street, she was aware that his silhouette tensed slightly.

She pulled the squad car to a stop in front of Jake’s small house, and they both just sat there quietly for a long moment. The quiet hum of the engine filled the silence between them, filled with thoughts that weighed on their minds. She turned to him, her emerald eyes reflecting the porch light, her expression solemn.

“Jake,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper as if afraid to break the fragile peace they found themselves in. “I just...I want you to know how much I appreciate your presence throughout this whole ordeal.”

Jake turned towards her, his sandy hair catching the faint glow from outside. He looked at her with those understanding eyes of his - patient, willing to listen.

“Always,” he replied simply, his voice steady and reassuring. It was a promise wrapped up in a single word - an assurance that he would be there for her no matter what.

Jenna swallowed hard. She could feel herself teetering on the edge of something profound - something that went beyond their professional relationship and ventured into deeply personal territory.

“I don’t know how I could handle all this without …” she started but faltered mid-sentence, suddenly shy of voicing out loud what had been silently brewing within her heart.

Jake seemed to understand, though; he always did. He leaned back against his seat and gave her one of his comforting smiles - not too wide or bright, but warm enough to put anyone at ease. “You won’t ever have to handle anything without me if you don’t want to,” he said quietly.

Then he cleared his throat and shifted the subject. “Do you think you’ll have any dreams tonight?” His voice was low, not wanting to encroach too much into the realm where Jenna’s most private battles were fought.

She glanced at him, the corners of her mouth turning up despite the gravity of the situation. “Your guess is as good as mine,” she replied. “If I do, I hope I can make sense of whatever we’re dealing with in that church.”

“Whatever happens, I’m here for you.” Again, his words were simple, yet they anchored her in these stormy seas of uncertainty. She appreciated the gesture, knowing full well the emotional toll that knowing about her lucid dream visions could exert even on him.

“Thanks, Jake,” Jenna said, sincerity lacing her voice as he stepped out into the waning light of dusk. She watched him walk away, his figure gradually held for a moment in the light of his porch before disappearing inside.

The engine hummed softly as Jenna lingered in the quiet aftermath, allowing herself a moment of stillness. She had only recently admitted to herself the depth of her attraction to her deputy. Were the words he’d just spoken a confirmation that he felt the same? Or were they an indication of a strong partnership rather than an impending romance?

Jenna’s hand stilled on the steering wheel, her gaze lingering on the space where Jake had vanished into his house. Not willing to dwell on her own questions, she shook off the feeling and pulled away from the curb, the tires whispering across the asphalt. Taking one last glance at the quiet homes nestled under the sheltering arms of old oaks, she drove away.

Even so, Jake’s words echoed through her mind long after she had driven off into the night – a gentle reminder that even amidst chaos and uncertainty, she wasn’t alone.

For a moment, she was caught in an eddy of reflection, the day’s events replaying with relentless clarity: the sight of lifeless bodies juxtaposed against the rich wood interior of St. Michael’s; the restless murmur of Trentville’s parishioners as fear and confusion wove through their ranks; the specter of an unsolved mystery darkening every corner of her mind.

She closed her eyes briefly, feeling another familiar tug at her consciousness, the intangible thread that bound her to a sister unseen for two decades. Jenna’s dreams, those vivid nocturnal visitations from the dead, had yet to yield any trace of Piper. She wondered if she was going to be able to sleep tonight with so many issues on her mind.

Then Jenna remembered that this day wasn’t finished for her. She had another responsibility to attend to, one that Jake couldn’t help with. There was one more stop she needed to make before she could even think of rest.

The cruiser’s headlights illuminated the path ahead. This errand was not simply another item to check off her list; it was a pilgrimage of sorts, a nod to a past that refused to stay buried. The thought tugged at her resolve like a persistent child demanding attention.

Jenna reached for the bottle of water in the cup holder and took a long sip, trying to dislodge the tightness in her throat. The task wasn’t part of her official duties, it was personal, an obligation forged by blood and memory. There could be no sleep yet, no dreams to guide her investigation. The night wasn’t over.