Page 3 of In Her Bed
It was just past six o’clock now, and she was driving into an older part of her hometown with an unusual visit in mind.Here, the town had long ago expanded around the site of an abandoned coal mine.This part of Trentville itself looked as though it might be abandoned, too.Some of the ancient brick façades seemed to be held together by sheer will and desperation.This place had seen miners come and go; then the less affluent townspeople had moved in.
When Jenna spotted the place she was looking for, her hand tightened around the steering wheel and she took a deep breath.She parked her cruiser on that long forgotten-block and looked around, thinking that actually nothing out here seemed to have changed in the past twenty years.
Although she’d occasionally driven through these streets, she hadn’t set foot in this particular shop since she was sixteen years old—not since she and Piper used to go in and browse, just for the atmosphere and their curiosity about it all.The items displayed there had seemed to them like treasures in a museum.The pawnshop’s front window was still cluttered with old tools, musical instruments, vintage radios, all promising a thousand forgotten stories.
Jenna opened her purse and fingered the item she’d found just days ago in an abandoned well.Mud had been caked so thickly on it that at first Jenna hadn’t been sure there was even an object beneath it.Not until she cleaned it off.The old brooch was ornate and aged, its metalwork fine but tarnished, and its rounded opal face was nestled into the weathered metal in a skillful design.
The oddest thing about that piece of jewelry was that she had dreamed about before she’d found it.A spirit in a lucid dream had led her to a specific location, but then vanished when the well came into view.Finding the brooch there when she was wide awake had been enough to convince Jenna that it was a clue worth following—perhaps a clue as to what happened to her twin sister, Piper.
The pawnshop door creaked a protest when Jenna pushed it open.She recognized the grizzled and gray man behind the counter as Sheldon Tyler, a familiar face from those long-ago visits with her sister and from his infrequent trips around town.He was wearing a flannel shirt that had more years on it than some of the wares.It hung loose on him, like maybe he’d dropped some weight since she saw him last.
His head jerked up, and surprise widened his eyes.“Well, I’ll be,” he said, leaning his elbows on the glass countertop.“Jenna Graves, in the flesh.I haven’t seen you here in my shop for, what, twenty years?It’s been that long, at least.”
Jenna smiled and crossed to the counter.“Sounds about right, Mr.Tyler.Probably a little longer since I’ve visited you.I’m surprised you remember me.”
“I’m not completely uninformed,” he replied, his voice a weathered rasp.“It’s been ages since you or your sister set foot in here, but I did hear you’d grown up and become Sheriff.And that Piper …” Mr.Tyler broke off then, waved a hand at the displays around him.“You tend to develop a memory when you’ve seen as many things come and go as I have.Of course, some stick with you more than others.”
“I was hoping you could help me with something,” Jenna said, resting the brooch on the counter.“I found something that might have come through here.But even it didn’t, you’re the best authority around here on old treasures.Do you think you could take a look?”
Mr.Tyler lifted a pair of small glasses from the desk beside him, letting them rest on the tip of his nose.He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.“Where’d you find it?”
Telling him that the spirit of Patricia Gaines, a teenaged girl who went missing in 2020, had appeared to her in a lucid dream and told her where to find the brooch was, of course, out of the question.So Jenna just said, “An abandoned well.Out in Whispering Pines Forest.”
Mr.Tyler took the piece and turned it over, the lenses of his glasses magnifying the curiosity in his eyes.“Well, I’ll be,” he said again.He paused, pondering.“I won’t lie to you, Jenna.I get a lot of things in here.Something like this could’ve passed through my shop.Might not have.”
“I understand,” Jenna said.She tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was so close to something real.“It was just a long shot.Thought you might recognize it.”
“Well, let me think about it,” Mr.Tyler said.“I need to know a little more.Got any more information I could work from?”
“I do,” Jenna said.“At least, a speculation.I was really hoping you could tell me if Piper might have bought it from you back then.She used to come in here without me sometimes.”
“Piper,” Mr.Tyler said, the name drawing out like the pull of a long, frayed rope.“That sister of yours had the spirit of a collector without the money to buy anything.I remember her coming around to enjoy the ambiance, listening to the old stories I told.But I’m sorry to say, I don’t remember her ever buying a thing.”
Jenna felt the familiar thud of hope slipping away.But if Mr.Tyler remembered Piper so well, maybe...“You’re sure she never bought this?”Jenna asked.She couldn’t bring herself to let the lead die without a fight.“Not even this one thing?”
“I’m sure,” Mr.Tyler said, gently.“I think I’d remember if she ever came in and put money down on anything.She just loved the shop, loved to browse, same as you.Unusual among youngsters.”
Jenna nodded, swallowing her disappointment.The brooch had to mean something, perhaps even that Piper was still alive.“Thanks, Mr.Tyler,” she said, doing her best to keep her voice from sounding as resigned as she felt.“I thought this might lead me to her.I thought it might be a clue.But apparently not.”
Mr.Tyler placed the brooch back in her hands.“I wish I could be more help to you,” he said.His eyes were deep wells of sympathy.“You ever find out what happened to her?”
“No,” Jenna said.She put the brooch into her purse.“Not yet.”
Jenna thanked the pawnshop owner and left, her feet dragging beneath the weight of old memories.She sat in her car and looked at the brooch again, turning it in the fading light.Her phone rang, startling her into the present.She answered.“Mom?”
“Jenna,” her mother said, her voice unsteady on the line.“Can you come by the house?I need to see you.”
“Sure,” Jenna said, surprised by the call.“Is everything okay?”
“I just need you to come.Please.”
“Of course, I’ll be right there.”
Jenna ended the call, slid the brooch back into her purse, and pulled onto the street, her mind spinning with possibilities.She drove to her childhood home, worried about the strain in her mother’s voice.When she got there, she saw that the roses were in full bloom and visibly well-tended.Jenna wondered if they were saying,Yes, Margaret Graves has kept her promise.
Her mother greeted her at the door, her steps careful and slow.The strain in Mom’s voice was matched by the tremor in her hands.“I need to confess something,” she said.
The words slipped out before Jenna could stop them.“Confess?Mom, you didn’t—?”
