Jenna froze, “Blue and purple?”
“Yes, the one Sophie knit for me five years ago, after your father died.About a year before she...”Her mother didn’t need to finish the sentence.They both knew what had happened to Sophie Bowers.
Sophie Bowers—Elena Bowers’s sister.
In a rush, everything connected in Jenna’s mind.The photograph she’d seen in Elena’s office yesterday.Elena and Sophie together, both smiling, arms around each other’s shoulders.Elena had mentioned her sister during their interview—how Sophie had struggled with mental health issues, how she’d made gifts for people in town before her suicide.
Gifts like a hand-knit scarf for a grieving widow.
The killer who had strangled Derek Sullivan and Amanda Hartford had wrapped their bodies as if they were nothing more than pieces in a twisted artwork.The image of Piper similarly bound made Jenna’s stomach lurch.
“The yarn.She’s using Sophie’s yarn.”
“What?Jenna Marie, you’re not making any sense.”
“The killer, Mom—it’s Elena Bowers.She’s been wrapping her victims in colored yarn that Sophie never got to use.”
Her mother gasped.“But what does that have to do with Piper?They’ve never even met!”
“In spite of that, Piper sensed both murders” Jemma grabbed her keys and rushed toward her front door, phone pressed to her ear.“I’m going to call Jake now.You stay inside, and call me if Piper comes back or if you hear anything.”
“Please find her, Jenna,” her mother pleaded, her voice breaking.
“I will.I promise.”Jenna ended the call and immediately dialed Jake’s number as she unlocked her front door and stepped out into the night.The air was cool against her face, the real world dark and quiet in contrast to the chaotic dream-storm at Wendell’s farm.
Jake answered on the first ring, alert despite the hour.“I was just about to call you,” he said.“I was hoping you were ready to take your shift.”
“Jake, I know who the killer is.”Jenna cut him off, her words tumbling out as she jogged to her car.“It’s Elena Bowers.And Piper’s missing—she could be in danger.”
A beat of silence.“Elena Bowers?The community center director?What makes you think—”
“I don’t have time to explain everything, but it makes sense.The colored yarn, the murders—they’re connected to Elena’s sister Sophie, who killed herself four years ago.Piper took my mom’s scarf tonight—the one Sophie knit for her.I think Piper sensed something and went to confront her.I need Elena’s home address,” Jenna continued, climbing into her cruiser and starting the engine.“Now.”
She heard Jake typing rapidly on the other end.“Pulling it up...Got it.1427 Oakwood Drive.That’s in the Hickory Hills subdivision.”
Jenna committed the address to memory as she pulled away from the curb, tires squealing on the empty street.“I’m heading there now.Call it in, get officers to that address ASAP.And try to get Elena’s license plate and vehicle information—in case they’re not at the house, we’ll need to look for her car.”
“On it,” Jake replied, professional efficiency taking over.“I’m leaving now.Should be there in ten minutes.”
“I’ll see you there.”Jenna hung up and tossed her phone onto the passenger seat, then pressed the accelerator harder.The streets of Trentville blurred past her windows as she sped toward Hickory Hills, where Piper might already be in Elena’s grasp.She forced the thought away, focusing instead on the road ahead.
Find Elena.Find Piper.Stop whatever was about to happen.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Brenda’s hands trembled slightly as she poured the amber liquid into Elena’s cup, the teapot suddenly feeling unnaturally heavy.There was something about Elena’s smile that hadn’t been there before—a coldness beneath the surface pleasantries.
“You’re very thoughtful tonight,” Brenda observed, setting the teapot down with a soft clink.“Something on your mind?”
“I’ve been thinking about what Sheriff Graves must be going through right now.Two murders in such quick succession.It can’t be easy.”
“Well, that’s her job, isn’t it?”Brenda selected one of her shortbread cookies from the plate.“Though I must say, this business with Derek Sullivan and Amanda Hartford has everyone on edge.I’ve never seen the TownCircle boards so active.”
“And what are people saying?”Elena asked.
“Oh, the usual speculation.Some think it’s a drifter passing through.Others suggest it might be someone with mental health issues.”Brenda took a small, precise bite of her cookie.“A few even whisper that it could be someone we all know—a respected member of the community.”
“And what do you think, Brenda?”
