Page 62 of In Her Memory

Understanding dawned in Jake’s eyes, followed immediately by concern. “No way,” he said, shaking his head. “Absolutely not.”

“I’ll put on Ruth’s nightclothes, arrange my hair like hers,” Jenna continued, ignoring his objection. “The camera obscura image is pretty crude—he won’t be able to tell it’s me from the projection. Instead of finding Ruth alone and vulnerable, he’ll walk right into a trap.”

Jake’s expression hardened. “You know what? You’re right. I don’t like this plan. For one thing, it’s completely farfetched. Maybe our killer can get into the house; maybe there are even passageways we haven’t found yet. And we could keep a guard posted to protect Ruth. But you’re talking about using yourself as bait.”

“It’s the quickest way to catch him,” Jenna said, refusing to back down. “And you’ll be there too. In the closet. If the killer comes through that passage, we take him down together.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” Jake said. “Look, Jenna, we don’t even know if he’ll try anything. Why would he risk another attack with the whole police department focused on Calloway House?”

“Because we just moved all the residents out,” Jenna countered. “And we can say that was because we couldn’t keep officers here in the building and still do our jobs. If I were him, I’d see that as an opportunity—a house that’s suddenly empty except for one stubborn old woman who refused to leave. It’s the perfect chance to strike again while we’re focused on evacuation.”

“If I were him, I’d expect the one resident to be guarded.”

“We’ll move official vehicles away from the building and keep ourselves out of sight. Any daytime staff will leave and we’ll put out the word that the superintendent is in the hotel with the condo owners. When the killer looks into Ruth’s apartment, he’ll only see her. Or that’s what he’ll think, anyhow.”

Jake was quiet for a moment, his eyes searching hers. Jenna knew that look—he was weighing the risks, trying to find a flaw in her logic, a safer alternative.

“I know I can’t talk you out of this,” he finally said. “But if anything goes wrong—”

“Nothing will go wrong,” Jenna assured him. “We’ll put Ruth in a distant part of the building and have someone watching her. We’ll have radios. And we’ll have the element of surprise. ”

Jake didn’t look convinced. “So, we tell Ruth everything. And hope she agrees to help.”

“Only one way to find out,” Jenna said, turning back to the apartment door.

She knocked again, three quick raps. From inside came Ruth’s voice, strong and clear: “Come in!”

Jenna pushed the door open and stepped inside, Jake close behind her. Ruth was still seated in her wingback chair, though her book now lay closed on the side table. Her sharp eyes moved from Jenna to Jake and back again, taking in their serious expressions.

“Back so soon?” she asked. “Have you come to try again?”

Jenna moved to the chair opposite Ruth’s and sat down, leaning forward to meet the older woman’s gaze. “Actually, I’ve come to ask for your help.”

“My help? With what?”

Jenna took a deep breath. “Would you like to help us catch a killer?”

For a moment, Ruth’s expression didn’t change. Then, slowly, a smile spread across her face—not the gentle curve of amusement, but something sharper, almost eager.

“What do you need me to do?” she asked, straightening in her chair.

*

That day’s fading light slanted through Ruth McElmurray’s kitchen windows. Jenna pushed a forkful of chicken around her plate, her appetite dulled by anticipation. Across the small table, Jake sat back in his chair, a half-eaten sandwich in his hand. Since this killer had always struck at night, they’d finally paused to eat something before taking their positions.

Ruth had styled Jenna’s hair, pulling it into a bun roughly resembling her own. “It will do if he can’t see you too well,” she’d announced as she laid out an old-fashioned nightgown for Jenna to wear.

“We’ll get him for sure,” she’d said as she moved to Donna Marsh’s old apartment with Maria as her guardian. She’d even promised not to turn on any lights there.

Now the house had grown unnaturally quiet. Through the thin walls, Jenna could hear the occasional creak of settling timber, the soft whine of pipes as the heating system kicked on. Every sound seemed magnified in the emptiness.

“I still don’t like this,” Jake said, breaking the silence. He took a bite of his sandwich, chewing slowly before continuing. “It’s getting dark out there. If this guy is planning to make a move, it could be soon.”

“We’ve still got a little time. Finish your sandwich.”

Jake leaned forward, his voice dropping. “I need to ask you something. It’s not about the case.”

The shift in tone caught Jenna off guard. “Sure,” she said, suddenly conscious of how small the kitchen felt with just the two of them in it.