Page 39 of In Her Bed
Although Jenna now had a name for the killer’s latest victim, she knew almost nothing else.No location, no time frame, not even a clear description of the killer—just the certainty that a serial killer was at work and would not stop with the two she had seen in the dreamworld.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Jenna’s hands trembled slightly as she pulled her uniform shirt over her head, the fabric catching on her damp skin.The images from her lucid dream clung to her consciousness like cobwebs—Sandra Reeves singing into that antique phonograph, unaware she was dead, describing what had happened to her in what she believed was her own dream.
She glanced at the bedside clock: 6:17 AM.Early enough that she could gather Jake and Frank before the day’s official business began.She grabbed her phone from the nightstand and entered Jake’s number.The line connected after two rings.
“Jenna?”Jake’s voice was rough with sleep but instantly alert.“Everything okay?”
“I need to see you.And Frank.It’s important.”She tried to keep her voice calm, professional, but the urgency bled through.
“Another dream?”he asked quietly.
“Yes.I’ll explain when I see you.Can you pick me up in twenty?I’ll call Frank.”
“On my way.”
Jenna ended the call and immediately dialed Frank.He answered on the fourth ring, his voice carrying the gravel of early morning.
“Frank, it’s Jenna.I need to talk to you.Can Jake and I come over?”
“Is this about the same murder case?”Frank asked.“Something new?”
“Yes, but it’s complicated.I can’t explain over the phone.”
A beat of silence, then Frank’s voice softened.“I’ll put on coffee.”
“Thanks.We’ll be there soon.”
She set the phone down and finished dressing, her movements automatic while her mind replayed fragments of the dream.Sandra’s voice, hauntingly beautiful as it filled that strange dreamscape packed with audio equipment.And the song—Piper’s favorite.
Jenna splashed cold water on her face, the shock of it momentarily clearing the fog of fatigue.She hadn’t slept well even before the dream invaded her night, and she’d gotten very little sleep the night before.Dark circles shadowed her eyes, showing the toll this case was taking.
Soon the familiar rumble of Jake’s squad car sounded outside her window.She grabbed her badge, gun, and jacket, locking the front door behind her.
Jake waited in the driver’s seat, his face betraying concern beneath his professional demeanor.The interior smelled of coffee—he’d brought a thermos, and he’d already poured two cups.Steam rose from the travel mugs wedged in the console.
“Thought you might need this,” he said, nodding toward the coffee as she slid into the passenger seat.
“You’re a lifesaver.Frank’s making a pot for us, but I need to wake up before we get there.”
Jake pulled away from the curb, navigating the quiet streets of early morning Trentville.“So, another lucid dream?”
Jenna took a long sip of coffee before answering.“Yes, and it’s got me in a real quandary.I need to talk to both you and Frank about it.Need your help figuring out what to do.”
“That bad?”
“That complicated.”
She stared out the window at the town slowly coming to life—a newspaper carrier tossing papers onto porches, a few dedicated joggers braving the crisp morning air.“I think we have another victim.Actually, I’m sure of it.”
“I was afraid of that,” Jake replied, but he didn’t press her for details.They drove the rest of the way to Frank’s house in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.
They parked in Frank’s driveway and hurried toward the house, where the front door swung open just before they reached it.As they greeted Frank and stepped inside, the savory aromas of coffee and something else cooking greeted them.
“Come on in,” Frank said as he headed back to the kitchen.“Breakfast is almost ready.”
They followed him to the warm oasis where they had sat and talked and eaten sandwiches just last night.Frank moved with surprising agility between the stove and counter, spatula in hand, dressed in worn jeans and a faded Trentville Sheriff’s Department sweatshirt that predated Jenna’s career.
