Page 51 of In Her Bed
“More likely, he believes you’ve got some kind of real-world network.Informants, maybe.Sources you’ve cultivated that you don’t disclose.”Jake shrugged.“Or maybe he just thinks you’re that good at reading a scene.”
Jenna nodded slowly.“Either of those would be easy for him to accept.”
“The important thing is,” Jake continued, “he’s keeping his theories to himself.And he shut Morgan down before he could start digging in directions none of us wants him going.”
The car rounded another bend, revealing the first glimpse of the Mitchell estate through a break in the trees.They pulled into the circular driveway and parked in front of the old mansion.
“I appreciate Spelling’s discretion,” Jenna said quietly.“Whatever he might think.”
They had reached the double-door entry and were just about to push the bell when the doors swung open, revealing Franklin.The household manager stood with perfect posture, his uniform as impeccable as before.
“Sheriff Graves, Deputy Hawkins,” he greeted them, his voice measured.“Ms.Mitchell is expecting you.Please, follow me.”
Jenna caught the subtle curiosity in his gaze as he led them through the house.She wondered what questions were forming behind that professional mask and what theories he might have about a second visit in such a short time.
The room where Rebecca awaited them was the same as before—an elegant space filled with Howard Mitchell’s prized audio equipment.
Rebecca rose from her seat as they entered.She wore another black dress, similar to the one from their previous visit, her dark hair still pulled back.The shadows beneath her eyes had deepened, a testament to sleepless nights spent dealing with her father’s affairs.
“Sheriff Graves,” she said, extending her hand.“Deputy Hawkins.I must admit I was surprised by your call.”
“Thank you for seeing us on such short notice, Ms.Mitchell,” Jenna replied, taking the offered hand.
Rebecca gestured toward the seating area.“Please, sit.Can Franklin bring you anything?Coffee, perhaps?”
“No, thank you,” Jenna said, settling into one of the armchairs.Jake took a position slightly behind her, standing with his hands clasped behind his back.
Rebecca sat across from them, her posture straight but tense.“You mentioned there have been developments in the case.”
Jenna nodded, choosing her words carefully.“I’m afraid I have some difficult news, Ms.Mitchell.There’s been another death that seems to be connected to your father’s collection.”
Rebecca’s eyes widened, her hand rising instinctively to her throat.“Another...?Who?”
“Sandra Reeves,” Jenna said, watching Rebecca’s face closely.“She owned Melody Forge Studios here in Pinecrest.”
The color drained from Rebecca’s face.Recognition flashed in her eyes, followed swiftly by horror.
“Sandra Reeves?The singer?”Her voice cracked slightly.“I—I know who she is.Was.”
Rebecca’s hands trembled more visibly now.She clasped them together in her lap.“This can’t be happening.First that man who bought the old radio, and now...”
“I understand this is shocking,” Jenna said gently.“But there’s something else you should know.Ms.Reeves had also recently purchased an item from your father’s estate.A phonograph, I believe.”
“Yes.Yes, she did.Just a few days ago.”Rebecca paused, realization dawning in her eyes.“She came to the estate sale personally.I was actually quite honored to meet her, even briefly.I told her I was a fan.”
Jenna leaned forward slightly.“We believe the items purchased from your father’s collection may be the key link between the victims.”
Rebecca stared at Jenna, her gaze shifting from disbelief to a dawning comprehension that seemed to physically weigh her down.
“You’re saying someone is...targeting people who bought my father’s things?”
“That’s what the evidence suggests,” Jake said from behind Jenna.
Rebecca stood abruptly, moving to the window.Outside, the manicured grounds of the estate stretched into the distance, peaceful and oblivious to the darkness of their conversation.Her silhouette against the light trembled slightly.
“All these things,” she said, turning to gesture at the room filled with her father’s collection.“They were his passion.His joy.”Her voice faltered.“Now they’re somehow connected to...to murder.”
“We need your help, Ms.Mitchell,” Jenna told her.“The more we understand about who purchased these items, the better chance we have of preventing another tragedy.”
