Page 12 of In Her Memory

Jenna broke off as a silver sedan pulled into a private parking space in front of the liquor store. A tall, slender man unfolded himself from the driver’s seat, salt-and-pepper hair catching the morning light. “I’ve got to go. I came to the liquor store to talk with Zeke Canfield, and he just arrived. I need to talk to him about Mom. She’s in pretty bad shape, and I’m worried …”

“That she’ll have a relapse?” Jake asked.

“Yeah. I’m not sure whether I’m overstepping my bounds, reaching out to him behind her back, but …”

“You’re doing the right thing,” Jake said. “If there’s ever been a threat to your mother’s sobriety, Piper’s disappearance is surely it. She’ll need all the support she can get right now.”

“Thanks,” Jenna said with genuine gratitude. “I needed to hear that. After I talk to Zeke, I’m going to meet with Colonel Spelling at the station about a search for Piper. I talked to him a little while ago.”

“That’s good. If anyone can help you find her, it’s Spelling. Everything’s going to be alright, Jenna.”

“I hope so.”

She ended the call and tucked the phone into her pocket, then pushed open her car door and stepped onto the sidewalk.

Zeke was fumbling with a ring of keys, his back to her as he approached the store’s entrance. Jenna took a deep breath and started toward him, unsure exactly what she would say, but certain that she needed to ensure her mother had the support she needed—especially now, with both Piper missing and another likely murderer here in Trentville.

CHAPTER FIVE

Jenna walked toward the tall figure silhouetted against the glass as he unlocked the liquor store door. Glancing around, Zeke Canfield called out, “Morning, Sheriff.” The lines around his eyes deepened as he squinted at her. “Bit early for official business, isn’t it?”

“It’s not exactly official,” Jenna replied, crossing the lot with quick strides. “Got a minute to talk? It’s about my mom.”

Concern immediately creased Zeke’s face. “Of course,” he said, pushing the door open with a gentle chime from the overhead bell. “Come on in.”

Jenna followed him inside. The liquor bottles lining the shelves glinted in the lights he’d just switched on, their labels a blur of colors and promises. The events of the recent hours swirled through her mind—waking to find Piper gone, the frantic search of the house, her mother’s face crumpling with fresh grief.

Moving behind the counter Zeke switched on a coffee maker, then turned to face Jenna and asked, “What’s going on with Margaret?”

“Piper disappeared last night,” Jenna said flatly, watching his reaction. “Just... gone. Left sometime after midnight. Mom’s taking it pretty hard.”

“Damn it. After everything...” Zeke shook his head. “Any idea where she went? Or why?

“We’re working on it.” Jenna chose her words with care, mindful that Zeke knew nothing of her lucid dreams or Piper’s voices. Some parts of the story weren’t hers to share.

“We don’t really know why,” she continued. “She actually seemed to be adjusting well enough for us all to relax a little. And we don’t have any idea where. She took her bicycle, so it could be pretty far away.”

“Coffee?” Zeke offered, as the machine stopped gurgling.

“No, thanks.” Jenna replied. “I need to be quick. I’m heading to the station right after this.”

Zeke poured himself a cup of coffee, steam rising between them, and waited for her to continue.

“The point is,” she said, “I’m worried about Mom. This feels too much like after Dad died.”

Zeke set his mug down with a sharp click. “You’re worried she might start drinking again,” Zeke said, not a question but a statement of understanding.

“Yeah. She’s been doing so well, but this... this is exactly the kind of thing that could trigger a relapse.”

Jenna watched Zeke’s face, saw him processing her words with the gravity of someone who understood the fragile nature of sobriety.

“Mom promised me and Frank she’d reach out to you today,” Jenna continued. “But she was kind of defensive about it, and I’m afraid she won’t. You know how she is—stubborn to a fault, convinced she can handle everything alone.”

“Sounds familiar,” Zeke gently.

“Maybe I’m overstepping,” she admitted. “I don’t know the boundaries here. Mom’s an adult, and her relationship with you is her business. But I can’t just stand by and watch her suffer when I know you’ve been a lifeline for her.”

Zeke took a thoughtful sip of coffee. “It’s always delicate with these things. Pushing too hard can backfire, but sometimes people do need a nudge.” He set his mug down and leaned forward on his elbows. “Is anyone with her now?”