Jenna sighed, tucking her phone away.“As ready as I’ll ever be to face Ms.Drummond again.”
The last time she’d spoken to Brenda Drummond had been during a noise complaint at the community center.The retired teacher had lectured her for a solid ten minutes about proper decibel levels as if Jenna were still sixteen and had been caught passing notes in her English class.
They approached the front door, and Jake rang the bell.Jenna smoothed her shirt, suddenly self-conscious about the wrinkles that had accumulated during her emotional morning with Piper.
The door swung open to reveal Brenda Drummond, her thin frame rigid in a crisp blouse and slacks that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a classroom twenty years ago.Wire-rimmed glasses perched on her nose, magnifying eyes that missed nothing.
“Sheriff Graves,” she said, her gaze flicking from Jenna to Jake and back again.“And Deputy Hawkins.I’ve been expecting you.”
Jenna felt herself straightening instinctively, as if preparing for a pop quiz.“Ms.Drummond.We need to ask you a few questions, if you don’t mind.”
“About Derek Sullivan’s murder, I presume.”The older woman’s mouth thinned into a line that Jenna remembered all too well—the expression that preceded a cutting remark about sloppy work or missed deadlines.“News travels fast in Trentville, and now the rumor mill is working overtime.”
“That’s partially why we’re here,” Jake said.“We’d like to know more about those rumors.”
Ms.Drummond’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she stepped back, opening the door wider.“Very well.We can talk in my office.I moderate TownCircle from there.”
She led them through the living room, and Jenna’s attention caught on the framed photographs lining the walls and crowding every flat surface.Family portraits, vacation photos, a few with students, and most surprisingly, wedding pictures—Ms.Drummond in white beside a tall man with a receding hairline and a nervous smile.
Jenna knew that Brenton Drummond had left her for his twenty-seven-year-old secretary nearly a decade ago, a scandal that had fueled local discussions for months.But instead of removing all evidence of their marriage, Ms.Drummond had preserved it, as if erasing those memories would be admitting defeat.These weren’t the tokens of denial, Jenna realized, but of defiance.
“Your house is lovely,” Jake offered politely as they passed through a dining room with a china cabinet full of delicate teacups.
“It’s adequate,” Ms.Drummond replied without turning.“Unlike some, I don’t need excessive space or luxury to be content.”
They entered a small room at the back of the house that had clearly once been a sunroom but now functioned as an office.A computer desk dominated the space, which also held filing cabinets and bookshelves stuffed with local history volumes and what appeared to be decades of teaching materials.
“Please, sit,” Ms.Drummond gestured to two chairs opposite her desk.They looked uncomfortable, and Jenna suspected that was intentional—a way to keep visitors from staying too long.
As they settled into the hard seats, Ms.Drummond took her place behind the computer, her posture impeccable.“I understand congratulations are in order,” she said, adjusting her glasses.“Your sister has returned after being gone for twenty years.How remarkable.”
The words were correct, but the tone carried an unmistakable note of suspicion that set Jenna’s teeth on edge.
“Yes, we found her living with an elderly farmer, taking care of him and helping with his garden.”Jenna replied, keeping her voice neutral.“She’s staying with our mother now.”
“I’m sure she has quite a story to tell,” Ms.Drummond said.“Twenty years is a long time to be missing without a single phone call home.She must have a lot of explaining to do.”
Jake shifted beside Jenna, sensing her tension.
“Actually,” Jenna said carefully, “Piper doesn’t remember much of what happened during those years.She was living under a different name, suffering from a condition that affected her memory.”
Ms.Drummond made a sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh.“How convenient.Perhaps she simply needs the right person to help her remember.I’ve always had a knack for getting the truth out of reluctant students.”She leaned forward slightly.“Piper was always the more troublesome of you two.Though you certainly gave me your share of headaches, Sheriff.”
The pointed use of her title—a reminder that Jenna’s authority meant little in this room—stung more than it should have.Jenna forced herself to stay focused.
“The trouble with Piper,” Ms.Drummond continued, “is that she was spoiled.As were you.As are most children in Trentville.Never held accountable for their actions, never facing real consequences.”
“Ms.Drummond,” Jenna cut in, “we’re not here to discuss Piper or my childhood.We’re here about Derek Sullivan.”
“Are you?”The older woman’s eyebrows arched.“I thought perhaps you’d come to discuss the other rumors circulating on TownCircle.The ones about you and your...unusual connection to the growing violence in our town.”
Jenna felt her face warm.Of course there would be talk about her.There always had been, ever since she became sheriff and started solving cases that had stumped others.Those rumors had mounted during the last few months, along with the rising tide of murder.Small towns bred suspicion like mold in a damp basement.
“What can you tell us about any rumors regarding Derek Sullivan’s murder?”Jake asked, smoothly redirecting the conversation.
Ms.Drummond turned to her computer and clicked through several screens."TownCircle has been exceptionally active since this morning.The first post appeared at 6:17 a.m., just after the body was discovered by a jogger."She swiveled the monitor toward them."As you can see, misinformation spreads quickly."
Jenna leaned forward, scanning the posts.People were already speculating wildly—claiming Derek had been part of a drug ring, that he’d owed money to dangerous people, that he was involved with a married woman whose husband had snapped.But what made her stomach clench was the accurate information scattered among the falsehoods.
