Page 44 of In Her Bed
“And the song.”Jenna shook her head, still processing.“I had never heard ‘In the Good Old Summer Time’ before the dream, Jake.I couldn’t have guessed that.”
They approached the blue sedan in the parking lot.Through the windows, Jenna could see a jacket thrown in the back but no keys, no handbag or other personal items.
“Looks like she never made it into her car,” Jenna said, mentally reconstructing the scene.“He must have been waiting for her when she left the building last night.”
Jake scanned the area.“If your dream was accurate about the rest, he accosted her and she tried to escape.”
“Yes, she remembered being chased.”Jenna closed her eyes briefly, recalling Sandra’s frantic description.A narrow passage.Darkness.The killer’s footsteps echoing behind her.
“That must be it,” she said, moving toward a tight passage between two buildings that fit the description, barely wide enough for a person to pass through.Jenna and Jake found themselves hemmed in by towering brick walls on either side.It was dim even in daylight, the high walls blocking most of the sun.When they reached the other side, they found themselves standing in a small neglected courtyard.Overgrown weeds pushed up through cracks in the concrete while graffiti adorned many of the walls.
Where could a fleeing woman hide in a place like this?Jenna struggled to remember what else Sandra had told her.
“That’s it,” Jenna said.Dominating this desolate space was an abandoned warehouse, its once vibrant brickwork now weathered and worn with age.“She said something about a warehouse.”
They hurried closer to the building, then Jenna saw it, a loading dock door that hung slightly open; suspended in an eternal state of partial welcome or farewell.It was raised enough for someone to slip under.
“That’s where she went,” Jenna said with certainty.“She made it this far, thought she’d found safety in there.Or more likely, she had no other choice.But that’s where he caught up with her …”
She stared at the open loading dock door, imagining Sandra’s final moments with painful clarity: running through the darkness, heart pounding, the sound of pursuit behind her.The small opening under the loading dock door—a chance, a hope.Ducking underneath, finding herself in the cavernous space of the abandoned warehouse.Trying to hide among crates and discarded machinery, breath coming in gasps, straining to hear over the hammering of her own pulse.
But the killer had followed, methodical, unhurried.The final confrontation, the struggle.The cord tightening around her throat.
Jenna’s hand unconsciously rose to her own neck, feeling phantom pressure there.
Jake touched her arm, returning her to the present reality.“Jenna,” he said, “we can’t go in there.Not without Morgan.We’re already way over the line, and if this is a crime scene...”
“He secured her to something,” she said softly.“She said he tied her up to something hard and metallic, like he did with Marcus and the radio tower.I think that was after she was dead.Her spirit was confused, as they often are.”
“There could be something like that inside a warehouse.Do you think her body is still in there?”
“No.I don’t think that’s where he left her body.The symbolism of the radio tower mattered to him.But there are likely to be signs of her having been in that warehouse, something to show what happened.”
“All the more reason to call Morgan now, before we contaminate a potential crime scene.”
He was right, and Jenna knew it.The professional part of her—the sheriff, not the woman with inexplicable dreams—understood the protocols all too well.They’d already crossed numerous lines, operating outside their jurisdiction on the strength of her vision.
With a reluctant nod, she pulled out her phone and found Morgan’s number.She put the call on speaker, meeting Jake’s eyes as it rang.
“How do we explain this?”she whispered.
Jake gave a small, grim smile.“We don’t.We just tell him what he needs to know.”
Chief Morgan answered on the fourth ring, his gruff voice filling the courtyard.“Morgan here.”
Jenna took a deep breath.“Chief, it’s Sheriff Graves from Genesius County.”
“Sheriff.”There was a note of surprise in his voice.“What can I do for you this morning?”
There was no turning back now.
Jenna told him, “We have reason to believe that Marcus Derrick’s killer has claimed another victim here in Pinecrest.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Another murder?”Chief Morgan’s voice on the phone sounded irritated.“What do you mean, Sheriff Graves?”
Jenna knew she couldn’t possibly explain that her words were based on nothing more than a dream.But she also couldn’t just walk away and let the local police discover the new tragedy for themselves, leaving Sandra Reeves’ friends and family in a state of anxiety for whatever time that might take.And now that it was looking like they had a serial killer at large, other lives could be in danger.
