PROLOGUE
Each mile marker that Jenna drove past showed she was closer to a destination that had existed only in dreams until this morning.Twenty years of searching, of false leads and dashed hopes, and now …
“You okay?”Jake asked from the passenger seat.
Jenna nodded, not trusting herself to speak.She hadn’t slept more than two hours since closing their last case, and neither had Jake.
“It’s real this time,” she replied.“I know it sounds crazy, but when Frank’s grandmother came to me in that dream and showed me that crossroads, that cabin...it wasn’t like any other dream I’ve had.It was like standing there, Jake.I could smell the pine trees.”
Jake turned in his seat to face her better.“I don’t think it sounds crazy at all.Your dreams have led us to answers before.”
“But never directly to Piper.”
“There’s always a first time.”
She stole a glance at him, grateful for his presence.When she had called, Jake had simply grabbed his jacket, asking only “Where to?”
The GPS chirped, announcing their approach to Piney Ridge.The town was a small collection of buildings nestled in a valley among surrounding highlands.Early autumn sunlight slanted across weathered storefronts and neat bungalows with front porches where rocking chairs stood.
“We need to stop for directions,” Jenna decided, spotting a gas station at the edge of town.She pulled the car into the cracked concrete lot, parking beside a rusty pickup that had seen better decades.
“And coffee,” Jake added, unbuckling his seatbelt.“Lots of coffee.”
Inside, fluorescent lights cast a harsh glow over aisles of snacks and automotive supplies.Behind the counter, a man in his sixties looked up from a dog-eared paperback, pushing wire-rimmed glasses higher on his nose.
“Help you folks?”he asked, marking his place.
“We’re looking for a place,” Jenna said.“A cabin on a hill, probably off County Route 17.About three miles from here.”
The man’s eyebrows lifted slightly.“Not many cabins out that way.Might be you’re looking for old Wendell’s place.”He leaned forward, elbows on the counter.“Mind if I ask what business brings you out to these parts?”
Jake stepped up beside Jenna.
“We’re trying to find someone who might be staying there,” Jenna replied, careful to keep her tone neutral.“A woman.”
Something flickered across the attendant’s face—recognition, maybe, or wariness.“You law enforcement?”
Although neither of them was in uniform, Jenna confirmed, “I’m Sheriff Graves from Genesius County.This is my deputy, Jake Hawkins.We’re not here on official business, though.It’s personal.”
The man studied them for a long moment, then nodded as if coming to a decision.“That’d be Wendell Gillis’s place you’re after.Lives up in the foothills.Keeps to himself mostly, except when he comes to town to sell his produce or stock up on supplies.”
“And the woman?”Jenna pressed.“We heard a woman might be staying with him.”
The attendant scratched his stubbled chin.“Been rumors about that for what, five years now?Folks say he’s got someone up there with him—a niece or housekeeper or something.Nobody seems to know much about her.Never comes into town, far as I know.”
“Has anyone spoken to her?”Jake asked.
"Not that I've heard.Wendell's private about his business.Comes in every couple of weeks with the best tomatoes and squash you've ever tasted, buys his necessities, and heads back up the mountain.Twice the usual amount these past few years, though, so someone's up there with him for sure.Hasn't come around lately, though—not for a couple of months or more.Folks wonder if he's fallen ill."
Jenna felt a flutter of hope.“How do we get there?”
The man reached under the counter and produced a local map, yellowed at the edges.He spread it on the counter and traced a route with a weathered finger.
“You take Main Street through town, turn right at the old mill—can’t miss it, got a big water wheel—and follow that road till you hit County Route 17.Take that north about two and a half miles.”
He tapped a spot on the map.“There’s a crossroads there with signs pointing to Piney Ridge, Greenfield, and continuing on Route 17.Wendell’s place is up a dirt drive just past that crossroads, on your right.Sits on a hill overlooking the valley.”
The description matched her dream with such precision that Jenna’s breath caught.This was it.
