CHAPTER NINE

Clustered around the speakerphone, Jenna, Jake, and the mayor listened intently as Colonel Spelling’s voice crackled through: “Jason Reeves was arrested in Pinecrest.”

“Pinecrest,” Jenna muttered. “That’s where Ozark State …”

“Assault charge,” Spelling continued. “He attacked a student on the college campus. Sheriff Graves, you and Deputy Hawkins should head over to Pinecrest. I’ll be there shortly, meeting with Chief Morgan at the city jail where they’re holding Jason. We can find out more then.”

“Understood,” Jenna replied. “We’ll be there.”

The call ended abruptly, leaving a buzz in the air. Mayor Simmons, ever the politician, searched their faces for answers. “Please tell me this is good news.”

“We don’t yet know,” Jenna admitted, withholding judgment. “But at least we’ve located our main suspect, and we’ll be able to question him.”

Jake commented, “Dr. Reynolds mentioned that Amber was engaged to a fellow student at Ozark State.”

“Then that explains the attack,” Mayor Simmons said hopefully. “And this … lover’s quarrel … abduction … whatever it was. Surely this ugly situation is about to be resolved.”

“Jason Reeves’s arrest adds suspicion to his name,” Jenna admitted. “But we can’t jump to conclusions about his guilt or about Amber’s condition—alive or otherwise. “

Mayor Simmons looked a little contrite as she said smoothly, “I understand. Let’s hope you can wrap this up quickly and bring Amber home safe and sound.” The words were an olive branch, and Jenna acknowledged them with a slight nod before turning to leave.

“Thank you, Mayor,” Jenna said, and Jake echoed her sentiment as they left the office.

The summer air greeted them with a warmth that didn’t reach the chill in Jenna’s bones. She slid into the driver’s seat, her movements automatic, while Jake settled beside her. She started up the cruiser and maneuvered it onto the road leading out of town, each mile bringing them closer to answers, and possibly to Amber.

“Mayor Simmons seemed hopeful,” Jake observed, glancing at Jenna. “But what you said to her... about not knowing if Amber is alive or dead. That’s not entirely true, is it? Based on your dream, I mean.”

When Jenna didn’t reply, he continued. “If Amber appeared to you, doesn’t that mean...?”

“Hope dies last, Jake.” Jenna’s replied softly. “Until we have proof, she could be out there, waiting for us to find her.”

“But the dreams, Jenna, isn’t that what you told me—only the dead ever speak to you there? Do you think it’s possible that the rules are changing? Could you be getting messages from the living now?”

Jenna glanced at him, her eyes reflecting an uncertainty she rarely allowed others to see. “Those rules have never changed before—but I suppose there’s a first time for everything. Anyhow, dreams aren’t evidence, Jake. Until we have proof of whatever has happened, hope is all we really have left.”

Jake nodded, understanding the unspoken concerns behind her words. As they drove on toward Pinecrest, there was only silence between them.

Miles stretched on as Jenna navigated the familiar roads, her thoughts a tangled web of psychic possibilities and personal fears. The possibility that her dreams could evolve to include the living unsettled her; if such a change were true, what did it mean about Piper? Years of silence in her night-time world had been an assurance that her twin still drew breath somewhere.

Now, doubt crept in. Was Piper’s absence from her dreams no longer a sign of life but merely an unexplained anomaly? Jenna pressed down on the accelerator, a silent plea for speed to outpace the questions in her mind. Each mile was taking them closer to Jason Reeves, to answers, and perhaps to a new understanding of her own haunted existence.

***

After a couple of hours on the road, Pinecrest’s leafy suburbs welcomed them. The town had an air of academic serenity; red brick buildings adorned with ivy stood proudly against the backdrop of the clear June sky, while students meandered along tree-lined pathways, their laughter punctuating the afternoon calm. This college town was a stark contrast to the rugged, natural beauty of Genesius County. Yet, beneath its cultured veneer, Jenna sensed the same undercurrent of small-town secrets she knew all too well.

“Looks peaceful,” Jake commented, his gaze following a group tossing a Frisbee on the university’s sprawling lawn.

“Appearances can be deceptive,” Jenna murmured, her eyes scanning the quaint storefronts and cafés bustling with the town’s young inhabitants.

“Here we are,” Jenna soon said, pulling into the parking lot of the Cable County Jail. She killed the engine, and she and Jake sat for a moment, taking in the sight of the unassuming two-story structure of pale yellow brick nestled between a bail bonds office and a diner advertising the “best pie in Cable County.” A squat building, it served its purpose with utilitarian simplicity. Barred windows peeped out from above, betraying the gravity of its function.

“Spelling should be here by now,” Jake noted.

“Let’s hope he’s got more to tell us,” Jenna replied, stepping out into the sun-drenched day, her badge catching the light as she closed the car door behind her.

The Cable County Jail’s interior was businesslike, its walls a drab beige softened only by the occasional framed print of local landmarks. Jenna presented her badge to the officer behind the front desk, who barely glanced at it before gesturing them toward an open door down the hall.

“Chief Morgan and Colonel Spelling are in there,” he grunted, returning to his paperwork with practiced indifference.

Jenna exchanged a brief look with Jake as they moved towards the indicated office. The door was ajar, allowing snippets of the conversation within to whisper out into the corridor.

“Spelling’s got that no-frills tone to him,” Jake murmured, noting the clipped cadence of the Colonel’s voice as they approached.

Inside the office, they saw Chief Morgan leaning against the edge of a metal desk, his frame clad in a uniform that seemed too snug across the shoulders. His hair was cropped close to the scalp, more gray than black, and his eyes were sharp, missing nothing. Beside him towered Colonel Spelling, a man whose very posture demanded attention. His uniform was pristine, his bearing rigid, exuding control and authority.

As Jenna and Jake entered, the conversation ceased. Spelling turned, offering a curt nod in greeting. “Sheriff Graves, Deputy Hawkins—this is Chief Rudy Morgan,” he said, indicating the chief with a tilt of his head.

Morgan’s handshake was firm. With formalities aside, Spelling gestured for Morgan to explain what had occurred so far.

“Reeves came into Pinecrest late last night, rented a motel room,” Morgan explained. “This morning he was making quite the scene over at Ozark State, asking anybody he could about a student named Liam Sweeney.”

“Did he say why he was looking for Sweeney?” Jenna asked.

“Only after he found him,” Morgan replied, his expression grim. “Seems he had some personal business to settle.”

Chief Morgan rubbed the back of his neck, a visible sign of stress. “If it hadn’t been for those students from the wrestling team nearby, Sweeney might be in the hospital right now. The campus police arrived just in time to cuff Reeves and haul him off before much damage was done to anyone,” he said. His gaze flicked to Jenna, seeking some sort of affirmation.

“Assault charges, you mentioned?” Jenna probed.

“Most likely a misdemeanor, considering Sweeney’s injuries weren’t severe,” Morgan confirmed. He leaned against the cool metal of the desk, folding his arms. “But make no mistake, Reeves was out for blood.”

She noted the tension in Morgan’s posture. It was clear that Pinecrest rarely dealt with such virulent outbursts of violence, especially involving students from the local university.

“Jealousy,” Jenna stated, recalling Dr. Reynolds’s words about Amber’s engagement.

“Apparently,” Morgan’s voice held an edge of disbelief. “According to Sweeney, Reeves accused him of stealing Amber away. Said something about ‘taking back what’s mine’ before swinging at him.”

“Has Sweeney pressed charges then?” Jake asked.

“Actually, he’s asked for them to be dropped,” Morgan replied, running his hand over his close-cropped hair. “But it’s not up to him. The county prosecutor has yet to decide.”

A silence settled over the room, punctuated only by the faint sounds of the precinct beyond the door. Jenna felt a chill despite the warmth of the afternoon sun filtering through the blinds. If jealousy had driven Jason to assault, could it have also led to something far worse? A suspect in a disappearance was a far cry from a simple case of assault driven by jealousy.

“We need to speak with Reeves right away,” Jenna said to Chief Morgan, her voice carrying a measured calm.

Morgan nodded, acknowledging the urgency in her request without a word. As he straightened from the desk, Jenna knew that their investigation had taken a significant, albeit murky, step forward. Whether it was a step towards resolution or further complication remained to be seen.

“Has Reeves asked for an attorney?” Jake’s voice cut through Jenna’s ruminations.

Morgan shook his head, the lines on his forehead deepening. “He’s not talking,” he said, his tone flat. “Too out of it to even ask for a lawyer, I reckon. He knows his rights, though. We’ve read them to him repeatedly.”

Jenna’s jaw tightened. If Jason wasn’t reaching for legal representation, either he didn’t grasp the severity of his situation or—she feared—he had nothing left to lose. The latter option sent a chill down her spine.

“Let’s see if we can get anything out of him,” she suggested, her voice betraying none of her concern. Jake nodded, a sign of assent and support.

They followed Chief Morgan out of the office, the hum of activity in the precinct growing louder as they approached the holding cells. Jenna picked up on the muffled conversations between officers, the clink of metal doors, and the undercurrent of despair that seemed to cling to the walls.

The cell where Jason was detained was stark in its simplicity: a single fluorescent light buzzed overhead, casting a cold pallor over the cramped space. A cot bolted to the wall and a stainless-steel toilet were the only furnishings. Jason lay on the cot, looking fast asleep.

“Reeves,” Morgan’s voice was stern as he prodded at the reclining figure. Jason stirred, lifting his head slowly, revealing bloodshot eyes and a day-old stubble that did nothing to hide the hollowness of his cheeks.

“Jason Reeves, these are Sheriff Jenna Graves and Deputy Jake Hawkins from Genesius County, along with Colonel Spelling of the Highway Patrol,” Morgan introduced them, gesturing to each in turn.

Jason’s gaze swept over them lethargically, taking a moment too long to focus. Jenna observed him closely, searching for any sign of recognition or guilt, but found only the bleary resignation of a man who seemed to have given up.

“Leave me alone. Can’t you see I’m trying to get some sleep?” Jason’s voice was a gravelly mumble, the words slurring into the stagnant air of the holding cell. His eyelids fluttered, struggling against the pull of unconsciousness. Chief Morgan’s patience wore thin as he jostled Jason’s shoulder firmly.

“Sleep can wait, Reeves,” he said, an edge of authority in his tone. “Right now, you need to focus. You’ve got some questions to answer.”