CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

Jake sat rigid in his chair, his gaze fixed on a point somewhere beyond the window, as Jenna and Frank concluded the debriefing that Mayor Claire Simmons had requested. His mind was on the details, on Hartley’s confession—the unsolved mysteries now laid bare.

It had been a harrowing couple of days that led to the rescue of Amber Stevens. The apprehension of Bill Hartley had sent lots of ripples through the town of Trentville like a stone breaking the surface of a still pond.

“Bill was always odd, but I never...” Mayor Simmons said when Jenna and Frank finished their account, her voice betraying the shock she felt. The mayor leaned back in her chair, digesting the unsettling facts about a man she’d thought she knew. “To think he actually murdered Lauren Knox.”

“Confessed to that without hesitation,” Jenna said. “But Lisa Donovan’s death in ‘85 remains a foggy patch in his memory.”

“Claims he blacked out from the mix of alcohol and meth,” Jake chimed in, recalling Hartley’s slurred words during the interrogation. “Woke up and found her dead by that old oak tree. An accident or murder, he can’t say for sure. But there’s no denying his involvement.”

Mayor Simmons pursed her lips, absorbing their words. Jake observed how the light caught the edges of the numerous plaques and commendations adorning her office walls, accolades that seemed to lose their luster in the face of Trentville’s grim reality.

“Bill Hartley also idolized Sid Vicious and Nancy Spungen,” Jenna explained. “He fantasized about a ‘blaze of glory’ ending, much like theirs.”

Silence enveloped the room, heavy and uncomfortable, before Mayor Simmons spoke again. “I’ve known Bill for years...never would I have imagined such darkness dwelling within him.”

Frank Doyle shifted in his seat, his presence commanding despite his years. “Demons are no strangers here in Trentville,” he said gruffly, his gray eyes reflecting an understanding born of decades facing down the town’s veiled horrors.

The mayor nodded slowly, then turned her sharp gaze towards Jenna. “What still puzzles me is how you found those graves—how you linked them to Amber’s disappearance.”

Jake saw the alarm in Jenna's eyes at the impossibility of answering that question without revealing her abilities. Then, he saw the relief in her eyes when Frank spoke up on her behalf.

“Madam Mayor, how Jenna found those graves is her business. The important thing is that she did, and because of that, Amber Stevens is safe.”

“Nonetheless,” Mayor Simmons pressed, leaning forward, her brows knitting together over eyes that demanded facts. “I can’t help but wonder—”

“Does it matter?” Frank interrupted, his voice firm. Jake’s attention shifted between the two; the unspoken history in their gazes was palpable. The mayor, usually so composed and commanding, seemed to shrink back slightly, her authority wavering under Frank’s imposing stature.

“Frank has a point,” Jake added, his voice calm and supportive. “We solved the case. Isn’t that what counts?”

Mayor Simmons opened her mouth, perhaps to argue further, but then closed it with an audible snap. Jake could sense her frustration, her need for control clashing with the reality of the situation.

“It’s just that—I don’t like mysteries,” the mayor stammered.

“Look around, Claire,” Frank chuckled, his tone taking on a more conversational timbre. “Mysteries are what make Trentville what it is. If we didn’t have a few secrets, it’d just be another dot on the map.”

“Secrets can be dangerous,” the mayor countered, her voice tinged with unease.

“True,” Frank admitted. “But sometimes they’re necessary. And you should count yourself lucky to have Jenna on the job. Her instincts are sharper than any I’ve seen in my years on the job, including my own.”

Jake remained silent, observing the exchange. He knew there was only so much pushing the mayor would tolerate before she pushed back. But today, Frank had played his cards right.

“Anyway, this meeting is over,” Frank declared, standing up with an ease that belied his age. “We’ve finished a good day’s work, and I’m sure you’ve got a town to run.”

Without waiting for a response, Frank strode toward the door. Jake rose, too, offering Jenna a subtle nod, prompting her to follow. As they exited the coolness of the office, the tension began to dissipate.

Together, the three of them walked out into the late afternoon warmth, the weight of the closed case momentarily lifted from their shoulders. The streets of Trentville stretched out ahead, holding both the tales of the past and the promise of a peaceful evening.

“Thanks for stepping in back there,” Jenna said to Frank, her voice betraying a hint of relief as she unlocked her car.

“Can’t let you get tripped up by your own talents,” Frank replied gruffly, easing himself into the back seat. “But don’t think you can dodge the bullet forever. People will start asking how you do what you do.”

Jake added, “By the time Bill get to trial, we’ll have nailed down enough ordinary evidence to get a conviction.”

They got into the car and Jenna drove through the town of Trentville, passing storefronts and local landmarks that Jake was sure carried echoes of cases past.

Frank’s house came into view, its modest facade a testament to the man’s unpretentious nature. Jenna eased the car to a stop, and Frank unbuckled his seatbelt with an air of satisfaction.

“Thanks for the day’s excitement,” Frank said, opening the door to step out. “It’s good to know I’ve still got it when it counts.”

“Wouldn’t have been the same without you,” Jenna responded, a genuine smile warming her features. “You always know how to save the day.”

With a final nod, Frank closed the car door behind him and walked towards his home, leaving Jake and Jenna alone. Silence enveloped the car once more as Jenna pulled away from the curb, heading toward Jake’s place. He could sense the shift in the atmosphere—the quiet that comes after the storm of activity and adrenaline has passed.

As Jenna drove, Jake caught her stealing quick glances at him. He knew she was processing everything that had happened, perhaps wondering about the same unspoken thoughts that occupied his mind. But neither spoke, each lost in their reflections, letting the hum of the engine fill the space between them.

They turned onto the street where his house stood, its familiar shape a welcome sight after the long day. Jenna brought the car to a gentle stop.

“Good work today, Jenna,” Jake said, hoping his words would bridge the gap of silence that had grown between them.

“Thanks, Jake,” Jenna replied, her eyes meeting his for a fleeting moment—enough to remind him of the bond they shared.

“Jenna,” he began, leaning toward her. “Today was... something else.”

She nodded, her solemn gaze on the quiet street ahead. “It sure was. I’m just glad we got Amber back safely.”

There was so much he wanted to say, to ask—about how she felt, about what lay beneath her stoic exterior. But this wasn’t the time or place. His personal feelings had to wait; they always had to wait. He knew the attraction between them was growing stronger, and it wasn’t going to just fade away. Sooner or later they would both have to decide how to deal that.

“Get some rest tonight,” he said, forcing a lightness into his tone that belied the complexity of his emotions. “Tomorrow we’ll tackle the great gnome heist of Trentville.”

A brief smile ghosted across Jenna’s lips, a fleeting moment of camaraderie.

“I’ll hold you to that, Deputy Hawkins.”