Page 72 of In Her Bed
Jake immediately flanked right, creating a tactical advantage as they both advanced into the room.Their flashlight beams bobbed and crossed, illuminating Kevin’s wild eyes and Diana’s terrified expression.
“On the ground!Now!”Jake ordered Kevin, his voice carrying the unmistakable authority of law enforcement.
“I need to hear the message!”Kevin screamed, his voice cracking.“She has to help me tune into it!”
Jake forced Kevin face-down onto the floor, applying pressure to keep him there as he reached for his handcuffs.The killer continued to struggle, his body twisting with manic energy, forcing Jake to apply more pressure to his restraint hold.
“Stop resisting,” Jake commanded through gritted teeth.
The metallic click of handcuffs closing around Kevin’s wrists seemed to finalize something—both the end of the immediate danger and the completion of his descent into madness.His body went slack beneath Jake’s grip, though his mouth continued to move, muttering about frequencies and static and messages that needed to be heard.
Only when Jake had fully secured Kevin did Jenna lower her weapon and turn her full attention to Diana.
The older woman stood trembling, still gripping the microphone stand as if it were a lifeline.Her silver hair, usually so neatly arranged, hung in disarray around her pale face.
“Ms.Wells,” Jenna said gently, holstering her weapon and extending a hand.“You’re safe now.It’s over.”
Diana’s eyes, wide with residual terror, fixed on Jenna’s face as if struggling to comprehend her words.The microphone stand wavered in her grasp.
“He—” Diana began, her voice a hoarse whisper.“He was going to—”
“I know,” Jenna said, carefully approaching and placing her hand on the microphone stand.“You can let go now.We’ve got him.”
Slowly, Diana’s fingers uncurled from around the metal pole.As Jenna took it from her, Diana’s composure crumbled completely.Her knees buckled, and Jenna quickly discarded the stand to catch her before she collapsed.
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
Frank’s bungalow welcomed them like an old friend as morning sunlight filtered through the kitchen windows.Jenna cradled her coffee mug between both hands while Frank leaned back in his chair, absorbing every detail of the case she and Jake had just laid out for him.
“So that’s it,” Frank said.“Barrett’s victims—they were people he thought were ‘antennas’ for a cosmic message he needed to hear?”
“That’s what the psychiatrist thinks,” Jenna said.She set her mug down on the sturdy oak table.“Barrett came to believe there’s some sort of a signal trying to break through, and certain people could help amplify it.Back when he was working as an engineer at Astral Voices, he became fixated on Diana Wells—the Midnight Voice, but she ignored him.When the station shut down, something in him just...broke.”“
“His evaluation could take weeks,” Jake added.“But there’s no doubt he’ll be found incompetent to stand trial.”
Frank nodded solemnly.“You two did good work.Not just solving the case, but understanding what drove him.That’s the mark of real police work.”
He reached for the coffee pot and topped off their mugs.The rich aroma filled the kitchen.
The conversation drifted toward more mundane matters—the upcoming town council meeting, a fishing tournament Frank was considering entering, the unusual weather pattern that had settled over Genesius County.It felt normal, and after the past few days, Jenna treasured the ordinary moment.
When she and Jake finally rose to leave, Frank walked them to the door.
“Don’t be strangers,” he said, clasping Jake’s shoulder firmly.“And take tomorrow off too, both of you.Sheriff’s orders.”
“You’re not the sheriff anymore,” Jenna reminded him with a smile.
Frank’s eyes crinkled at the corners.“Old habits.”
As Jenna drove back toward Jake’s house, they were both quiet at first, the silence comfortable rather than strained.
“Frank hasn’t changed a bit,” Jake said.“Still sees everything, doesn’t he?”
“That’s what made him such a good sheriff,” Jenna replied.
Jake turned to look at her, his sandy hair catching the light.“Is that what makes you a good sheriff too?Seeing what others miss?”
“Sometimes I see too much,” she answered honestly.“And sometimes, not enough.”
