Page 40 of In Her Bed
“Figured you two probably haven’t eaten this morning,” Frank said, expertly flipping an omelet.“Can’t solve murders on empty stomachs.It’s time the two of you learned the importance of regular meals.”
The domestic normalcy provided a stark contrast to the reason for their visit.Jenna felt the tension in her shoulders ease slightly as she slipped into one of the familiar wooden chairs at his kitchen table.
“You didn’t have to cook for us, Frank,” she protested weakly.
“Sure I did.”He slid perfectly folded omelets onto three mismatched plates.“Besides, gives me something to do while you tell me what’s got you showing up at my door at the crack of dawn.”
Jake settled beside Jenna, accepting the plate Frank handed him with a nod of thanks.“Smells amazing.”
Frank poured coffee into three mugs—one advertising a fishing tackle shop, another from the Trentville Fire Department fundraiser, and the third bearing a faded Missouri State University logo.The coffee was dark and rich, steam carrying its robust aroma across the table.
“Now,” Frank said, setting the coffee pot back on its warmer and taking his seat, “what was this latest dream all about?Who visited you?”
Jenna took a fortifying sip of coffee before setting her mug down.“Sandra Reeves.”
Frank’s fork paused halfway to his mouth.“Sandra Reeves?The singer?”
Jenna nodded, pushing her omelet around her plate.“It was strange, even for these dreams.I was surrounded by audio equipment—phonographs, radios, recording devices.Like I was standing in the middle of Howard Mitchell’s collection.”
“So this was related to the dream about Marcus Derrick?”
“Well, yes,” she replied.“I mean, that one was radio parts, and the equipment in this one was different, but both included a lot of old stuff.”
“Some kind of connection,” Jake muttered.“But go on, what happened?”
“Then I heard singing—a woman’s voice performing ‘Whispers of Forever.’“
Frank’s eyes widened slightly.“That was Piper’s favorite song.”
“You remember that?”Jenna asked, surprised.
“Course I do.You two would play that record until your father threatened to throw the turntable out the window.”Frank’s smile was tinged with sadness.“Beautiful song.”
“It is,” Jake agreed.“My mother was a fan too.”
Jenna continued, describing how she had found Sandra among the equipment, singing into the horn of an antique phonograph.“She played her recording back to me, then put on a different cylinder with ‘In the Good Old Summer Time’ and sang along with it too.”
“Was she...”Jake searched for the right words.“Did she know she was dead?”
Jenna shook her head.“No.Like Marcus, she didn’t seem to know where she was.Although she wasn’t alarmed like he was.”She paused, gathering her thoughts.“But she told me something important.She described being attacked by someone she couldn’t identify and choked with a cord.Said she was bound with cords to something hard.”
“Bound?”Frank repeated, his brow furrowing.
“Yes.She thought it was a dream she’d had—waking up tied to something.But the way she described it...”Jenna pushed her plate away, her appetite vanishing.“I think she was describing her own murder and what happened right after she was dead.”
The kitchen fell silent except for the gentle ticking of the old wall clock and the distant singing of birds outside the window.Morning sunlight streamed through the curtains.
“The dream ended before I could get any more details,” Jenna added.“But I’m certain of what it means.Sandra Reeves has been killed and her body tied up somewhere, just like Marcus Derrick.”
Jake set his fork down, his omelet half-eaten.“When was the last time either of you heard anything about Sandra Reeves?I haven’t seen her name in years.”
“That’s because she pretty much disappeared from public view,” Frank said, leaning back in his chair.“She was big in the 90s, had a couple of hits.But her voice started failing her—a problem with her vocal cords, I think.She moved back to Pinecrest about five years ago.”
“Pinecrest?”Jenna asked sharply.“You’re sure she’s in Pinecrest?”
Frank nodded.“Born and raised there.After her singing career ended, she opened a recording studio.Melody Forge, I think it’s called.She works with local musicians, helps them record demos.Keeps a low profile these days.”
Jenna’s mind raced.“Her body is somewhere, bound to something solid.Given what happened the first time, possibly a radio tower or something similar.”
