CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
As Jenna guided her cruiser past the Pinecrest welcome sign, the town's leafy streets dappled with morning sunlight filtering through trees showing their early autumn colors.In the passenger seat Jake ended another call with Colonel Spelling, his face settling into the focused expression she'd come to recognize as his professional mask.They were stepping into another jurisdiction with half-formed theories and evidence that originated in dreams—the kind of situation that made career law enforcement officers like Chief Rudy Morgan hostile before a single word was exchanged.
“Spelling's already at the station,” Jake said, sliding his phone into his pocket.“He wants us to meet him in Morgan's office.”
Jenna took a turn toward the downtown area.“I bet Morgan's thrilled about that.”
“About as thrilled as a cat in a bathtub.”Jake's mouth quirked in a humorless smile.“Spelling says Morgan's been briefed on Claudia Kingsley's case, but he's skeptical about any connection to Rebecca Hartley.”
“Of course he is.”Jenna's voice carried an edge of frustration.The brick buildings of Ozark State University's campus came into view.Students moved along pathways between ivy-clad buildings, their normalcy somehow jarring against the darkness of her thoughts.
Jake shifted in his seat to face her.“How much do we tell him?”
“About Piper?Nothing.”The answer came reflexively.“About my dream?Also nothing.”
“That doesn't leave us with much.”
“We've got the organ discovery at Heritage Park and its similarity to the Snow White story.That's concrete, at least.We stick to the facts, the patterns.Those old fairy tales don’t depend on me.Morgan doesn't need to know how we connected them to this case.”
Jake was quiet for a moment.“It's going to be hard to explain why we're so convinced Rebecca Hartley's disappearance is connected to Kingsley's murder without mentioning your sister's...communications.”
“I know.But Morgan already thinks I'm some kind of freak with my case insights.If we start talking about Piper hearing voices from dead people, he'll shut us out completely.”
“We could say we received an anonymous tip.”
Jenna shot him a sideways glance.“You want to lie to a Police Chief with a Highway Patrol Superintendent in the same room?”
Jake's laugh was short and dry.“When you put it that way, no.But we need something.”
“We'll say we're exploring possible connections based on the fairy tale elements.That we did our research with an authority at a Trentville bookstore.Claudia Kingsley was killed in a way that resembled Red Riding Hood.The organs at the park suggest Snow White.Another woman is missing.It's unusual enough to merit investigation.”
They fell silent as Jenna navigated the final turns toward the Pinecrest Police Department.The building stood solid and imposing, its modern glass and brick façade a sign of Cable County's more generous budget compared to Genesius County's modest resources.They spotted Spelling’s black SUV parked in the lot.Jenna pulled her cruiser into a visitor spot and cut the engine.
As he unbuckled his seatbelt, Jake told her.“Just remember, Morgan's territorial, but he's not stupid.He knows your track record.”
Jenna appreciated Jake's attempt at reassurance.She gathered her bag, which contained a small notebook where she'd jotted down the details from her conversation with Piper that morning.She couldn’t reveal how Piper had heard voices saying, “the huntsman,” but she had to keep it in mind.They got out of the car and entered the station together.
The station's interior was cool and quiet, the morning shift settled into their routines.A uniformed officer at the front desk recognized them—or at least recognized their badges—and directed them down a hallway toward the Chief's office without requiring them to sign in.The smell of industrial cleaner and fresh coffee reminded Jenna that some aspects of law enforcement were universal regardless of jurisdiction.
They found Colonel Spelling waiting outside Morgan's office, his tall figure straight-backed and commanding even in a casual stance.His silver-streaked hair was neatly combed, his uniform immaculate.When he caught sight of them, a fleeting look of relief crossed his face.
“Good morning, Colonel,” she said.
“Sheriff Graves, Deputy Hawkins,” he greeted them.“Chief Morgan is expecting us.”
Jenna read the subtle warning in his eyes: tread carefully.She nodded in acknowledgment.
Spelling rapped his knuckles against Morgan's door, and a gruff voice called them in.Chief Rudy Morgan sat behind a desk that looked too small for his frame, his close-cropped gray hair catching the fluorescent light.His eyes, sharp and unwelcoming, tracked them as they entered.
“Sheriff,” he said by way of greeting, the word carrying no warmth.His gaze swept to Jake, acknowledging him with even less enthusiasm, then settled on Spelling.“Colonel.”
“Chief Morgan,” Jenna responded.“Thank you for meeting with us.”
Morgan gestured to the chairs across from his desk.“Didn't have much choice in the matter.”His gaze flicked meaningfully to Spelling, who took a position leaning against the wall rather than sitting.
The office was well organized, with commendations framed on one wall and a large county map on another.A window behind Morgan offered a view of the station's parking lot, the morning sun casting his silhouette across the desk.
“Colonel Spelling has already filled me in on your...theory.”Morgan's tone made it clear what he thought of their hypothesis.“About Rebecca Hartley's murder having something to do with …fairy tales?”