Page 11 of In Her Shadow
As they reached the patrol car, Jake asked, “Next stop, the Centaur’s Den?”
“Right,” Jenna replied.They had to get on with the case.
“Place has seen better days,” Jake murmured as Jenna pulled her cruiser into the parking lot, and Jenna saw the underlying truth in his observation.The Centaur’s Den was a microcosm of Trentville itself—tired, frayed at the edges, but brimming with unspoken stories.Here, farmers rubbed elbows with ranchers, and the divide between them ran as deep as the roots of the ancient oaks dotting the landscape.
Jenna’s hand lingered on the door handle, the sun-warmed metal grounding her before she swung it open.A refreshing blast of cool air rushed out to greet them, an invisible barrier against the oppressive heat outside.Jenna stepped through, her senses immediately accosted by the familiar scent cocktail of stale beer and aggressive pine cleaner that somehow never managed to fully cleanse the air of its burdens.
Jake entered too, closing the door behind them, and they gazed around the cavernous space where scattered tables waited in silence for their nightly patrons, each one telling a tale of spilled drinks and confided sorrows.
Jenna’s gaze cut across the room to the bar where the bar owner stood, his large frame dwarfing the glassware he shelved with methodical precision.Aaron Hopper’s face was a map of hard-earned lines, carved from years spent resolving disputes more often with a look than with his fists, though both were equally effective.His shirt, once a darker shade, had faded much like the sign outside, and the bar towel over his shoulder seemed as permanent a fixture as the wood beneath his hands.
“Sheriff Graves, Deputy Hawkins,” Aaron said, the surprise in his voice matched by the lift of his thick brows.His greeting carried a rough timbre but held no edge of hostility.
“Aaron, we need to talk about Clyde Simmons,” Jenna said.“He was here last night, wasn’t he?”
Aaron set down a glass with more care than necessary, a stalling tactic as he composed himself for the conversation.“Sure, he was here,” Aaron’s response came at last.“Clyde’s been a regular for years.”
“I’m afraid Clyde Simmons was found dead this morning, Aaron.Murdered.”
She watched the color drain from Aaron’s face.“Murdered?”
Jenna nodded, her response muted as she watched the man before her grapple with the reality of the situation.
“Damn it,” Aaron’s voice reverberated through the silence, laden with something Jenna couldn’t quite define—fear, perhaps, or regret.
“It happened last night, at the Hartley ranch,” Jenna said, the words deliberate as she held Aaron’s gaze.“We can’t go into details right now, but we need to know everything you can tell us about Clyde’s time here yesterday evening.This may have been the last place he was seen alive.”
His shock was genuine, Jenna concluded, not the practiced surprise of someone with something to hide.This was a man facing an unwelcome intrusion of violence into his domain, his sanctuary for the weary and troubled souls of Trentville.
“Anything you remember could be important, Aaron,” she urged gently.
“Of course, of course.Let me just...”With deliberate movements, Aaron filled a glass with water, his hands shaking – whether from nerves or the morning chill in the bar, Jenna couldn’t tell.As he leaned forward, elbows braced against the worn wood of the countertop, the light caught the premature streaks of gray in his hair.
“Have a seat,” he said to Jenna and Jake, motioning toward the stools lining the bar.They both sat down, and Aaron began, “Clyde came in around 8 PM, already half in the bag.It’s been like that a lot lately, ever since Myra left him.He’d sit there, nursing his whiskey, picking fights with anyone who’d listen.”
“Did anyone try to calm him down?”Jenna asked, her voice steady despite the surge of emotions that this case stirred within her.“Or did everyone just let him be?”
“Most folks just ignore him when he gets like that.They’ve heard it all before.But sometimes, you know how it is, tempers get heated.Especially after a few too many.”Aaron’s gaze shifted to a point over Jenna’s shoulder as he searched his memory.“Truth is, I probably saved Clyde’s life a dozen times during the last few weeks.He’d get belligerent, start throwing accusations and fists with no care for who was at the receiving end.”His eyes flicked to a corner of the bar as if expecting to find Clyde there, spoiling for a fight.“He was no match for most of the guys who come here.I always stepped in.Not just for him—I couldn’t let my place turn into a brawl every other night.”
“Did he get into any specific arguments last night?”Jake asked, his notebook open and pen poised.
Aaron shook his head slowly.
“Not really.It was more of his usual ranting.”He sighed, the sound heavy with unspoken regret.“How everyone in the county hated him, how he was just doing his job as a meat inspector.He kept saying people would be happy to see him dead.”
The bar owner’s voice caught, and he cleared his throat, visibly shaken.“I guess someone took him up on that.”
“Aaron,” Jenna said, her tone threading the needle between compassion and command, “we need to know about everyone who interacted with Clyde last night.Even the smallest detail could be important.”
“Well, there was Tom Buchanan,” he began, clearing his throat as Jake took notes.“He and Clyde had words, but that’s nothing new.Tom left around 10, I think.”Jenna nodded, her mind already cataloging the information, slotting it alongside countless other fragments.
Aaron continued reluctantly, “Maggie Peters was here too, kept to herself mostly.And then there’s Joe Metzger, you know him, always sitting at the end of the bar, nursing his beer.”
“Anyone else?”Jenna prompted, her mind whirling with possibilities.Aaron hesitated, his eyes flickering towards the clock above the bar as if time itself might offer up an alibi.
“Let’s see...there was also the Miller twins, Carl and Greg.They played pool most of the night.And Lucy Rafferty, came in late, left early.”
“Did any of them seem to have a particular issue with Clyde last night?Any altercation or unusual interest?”Jenna asked.
