Page 63 of In Her Memory

Jake’s eyes met hers. “What’s going on with us, Jenna? I mean, really going on.”

They’d danced around that question for months—the lingering looks, the careful distance, the moments when that distance collapsed and they found themselves closer than colleagues should be. And at times like this, alone with each other, those questions loomed larger.

Jenna set her fork down, giving the question the consideration it deserved. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But you’re right—we’re long overdue to figure it out.”

“I’m not asking for any kind of a decision,” Jake said quickly. “Not tonight, with everything else…. But whatever future is out there … after this case is wrapped up...” He let the sentence trail off, the suggestion clear.

Jenna felt a flush of warmth spreading through her. “After the case,” she agreed. “We’ll talk.”

The moment seemed charged with possibility—until the sharp ring of Jenna’s phone shattered the tension. She reached for it, grateful for the interruption even as she noted Frank’s name on the caller ID.

“Frank,” she answered, raising a hand to Jake in apology. “Any update?”

But it wasn’t Frank’s voice that responded. “Jenna? It’s Piper.”

Jenna’s breath caught in her throat. She stood up so quickly her chair scraped against the floor. “Piper? Where are you? Is everything okay?”

“We’re about an hour outside of Piltdown, on our way back to Trentville,” Piper replied, her voice clear but tinged with exhaustion. “Frank says we should be home around eleven.”

Jenna closed her eyes, relief washing through her. Frank had called earlier, around four, with the news that he’d picked up Piper at the Piltdown police station.

“I’m sorry I won’t be there to meet you,” Jenna said, moving to the window. Outside, the last light of day was fading from the sky, painting the horizon in shades of purple and gold. “I’m working a case that’s turned complicated. But I’ll explain everything later.”

“That’s okay,” Piper said. “But the voices—they’ve been trying to warn me about you. Said you’re in danger.”

“I’m being careful,” she assured her sister. “And the messages you’ve been getting—they’ve actually been helpful. I’ll tell you all about that later too.”

After a few more exchanges—promises to be careful, reassurances that she’d see her soon—Jenna ended the call. She turned back to find Jake watching her, concern on his features.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

Jenna slipped the phone back into her pocket. “That was my sister. Frank’s bringing her home tonight. They’ll be there around eleven.”

“That’s great news.”

“It is,” she agreed, unable to fully articulate the swirl of emotions—relief, joy, apprehension, all tangled together. Her sister was really coming home again and she sounded like she wanted to stay. “But we’ve got a job to do before anything else.”

Jake pushed back from the table, gathering their plates. “Then we’d better get ready,” he said. “It’s almost dark.”

They moved through the apartment in the gathering dusk, preparing for what lay ahead. Jake checked the narrow closet in Ruth’s bedroom, testing the door to make sure it would open silently when needed. He placed a small folding chair inside along with a bottle of water, and put his service weapon within easy reach.

Jenna, meanwhile, stood before the bathroom mirror, studying her reflection with a critical eye. Ruth’s nightgown hung loose over her uniform, which she was still wearing. In the dimming light, with her features softened by shadow, the resemblance wasn’t perfect—but it should be enough to fool someone viewing her through the crude projection of the camera obscura.

“Think it’ll work?” Jake asked, appearing in the doorway behind her.

Jenna turned, taking in his doubtful expression. “It doesn’t have to be perfect,” she said. “Just good enough to draw him into the room.”

“The minute anything happens—”

“I know,” Jenna cut him off. “We’ve been over this.”

“Yeah, well, forgive me for wanting to be sure,” Jake replied, a hint of his usual humor breaking through. “This isn’t exactly standard procedure.”

Jenna smiled despite herself. “Since when have we ever followed standard procedure?”

He returned her smile. “True enough.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost seven. We should get into position.”

Jenna followed him back to the bedroom. The space had been carefully prepared—bed turned down, lights dimmed, door to the hallway closed. From the outside, it would look like Ruth had retired for the evening, unaware of danger lurking in her walls.