Page 10 of In Her Memory

But he couldn’t keep this from her. Not when her dream had specifically pointed to this woman, this place. He hesitated for another moment, watching as a cloud passed over the sun, temporarily darkening the limestone walls of Calloway House. Then, Jake pulled out his phone to make the call.

CHAPTER FOUR

The October morning light slanted through the windshield as Jenna drove along Main Street. The familiar storefronts of Trentville were still shaking off the night, preparing to open for business. When she guided her cruiser past the courthouse, a few county workers were climbing the steps.

Everything looked so normal, as if the world hadn’t shifted beneath her feet yet again. And the voice of her father’s spirit kept echoing in her ear

“We’ve got to find her, Jenna Marie. Before something terrible happens to her”.

The memory of his voice—so clear, so urgent—made her press harder on the accelerator. Then she forced herself to ease up. The Genesius County Sheriff shouldn’t be seen speeding through town unless it was an emergency.

She turned onto Elm Street, where the liquor store sat at the corner. Jenna slowed, then pulled into a parking spot and cut the engine. The “CLOSED” sign still hung in the window and she realized that it wasn’t quite 9:00. Zeke Canfield wouldn’t open for another few minutes.

The thought of talking to Zeke about her mother made her feel awkward. Was she overstepping? Mom had promised she would call him herself. The conversation from a little while ago played back in her mind—Frank’s gentle suggestion that she contact Zeke, her mother’s initial defensiveness.

“You think I need a babysitter? You think I’m going to fall apart and reach for a bottle?”

Mom had relented quickly—or at least she’d said that she would contact Zeke herself after she had a little time alone. But was she really going to do that? Jenna wasn’t sure. And she realized this meant that trust was still a fragile thing between them, even after her mother’s months of sobriety.

“This isn’t about not trusting her,” Jenna said aloud, as if speaking the words might make them more true. “This is about making sure she has support.”

But was it? Was she making a mistake in coming here—a mistake that might damage Mom’s trust not only in her, but in someone who had taken personal responsibility for keeping her sober?

Jenna watched a sparrow hop along the sidewalk, pecking at invisible crumbs. Then she reached for her phone, scrolling to find another number. If she was going to be waiting anyway, she could make good use of the time. There was someone else she needed to talk to about Piper—someone who might have insights into her sister’s state of mind.

Dr. Samantha White’s number was in her contacts. The psychiatrist had been treating Piper since they’d found her living on Wendell Gillis’s farm and brought her home. Despite the professional distance Dr. White maintained regarding Piper’s therapy sessions, she’d been a steady, reassuring presence. If anyone might have a clue about where Piper would go or why she’d leave, it would be her.

Jenna’s thumb hovered over the call button. Was this another boundary she was crossing? No, this was different. Dr. White would understand the urgency. Even so, she hesitated.

Maybe I should wait until after I’ve talked with Zeke …

Through the windshield, she watched an older couple walking their dog along the sidewalk. The man nodded at Jenna as they passed her car, clearly recognizing the sheriff’s vehicle. Jenna managed a small wave in return, her mind already rehearsing what she would say to Dr. White.

Jenna checked the time: 8:56 a.m. Still no sign of Zeke. She looked back at her phone and made a decision. She’d call Dr. White first, then speak with Zeke when he opened up. With Piper missing and the strange lucid dream contact with an unknown woman still tugging at her mind, every minute counted.

She pressed the call button. The phone rang once, twice, three times. On the fourth ring, Dr. White’s voice came through the speaker, clear and measured.

“Sheriff Graves. What can I do for you?”

“Dr. White, I need your help.” Jenna kept her voice steady. “Piper is gone. She left sometime during the night. She took her bicycle. And she took just a few belongings with her.”

“What about her medication?” Dr. White asked.

“She left it at home.”

“That’s not good.”

“Dr. White, I know there are confidentiality issues, but I need to ask—do you have any idea where she might have gone? Anywhere she mentioned feeling safe, or anyone she might try to find?”

The line went quiet for several seconds. Jenna could almost visualize Dr. White sitting in her office, weighing professional ethics against practical concerns.

“I can’t disclose specific details from our sessions,” Dr. White finally said. “But I can tell you that Piper’s sense of identity has been... fluid. She had really come to believe her name was Emma Kirby before you brought her home. The progress we’d made in restoring her identity as Piper Graves is significant but fragile.”

Jenna closed her eyes. “You think she’s gone back to believing she’s only Emma.”

“It’s possible.” Dr. White’s voice softened. “The voices she hears have been particularly insistent lately. Some of them have been trying to convince her that her life as Piper Graves is a delusion, that her connections to you and your mother aren’t real.”

The familiar frustration rose in Jenna’s throat. “But the connections are real. We’re her family.”