CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Jenna took a deep breath, then started explaining to Jake. “I think we should tell Ruth the truth—all of it. About the passages, the camera obscura, everything.”
“Are you serious? We’ve been keeping this under wraps all day.”
“I know,” Jenna said. “But Ruth isn’t going anywhere—you heard her.
And she’s sharp enough to figure things out on her own.
So instead of fighting her, let’s bring her in.
” She leaned closer. “We’ll explain about the passages.
Then we’ll ask her to help us—not by leaving, but by staying in another apartment for the night. With Maria watching over her.”
Jake’s expression shifted from surprise to confusion. “What good would that do?”
“The killer will think Ruth’s the only one left,” Jenna explained.
“Everyone knows she refused to leave. By now, the word has gotten all over Trentville. So, if he’s planning another attack, that’s where he’ll go—through the passage into her bedroom.
” She paused. “But he won’t find Ruth there. He’ll find me.”
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.
Jake’s eyes met hers. “What’s going on with us, Jenna? I mean, really going on.”
They’d danced around that question for months—the lingering looks, the careful distance, the moments when that distance collapsed and they found themselves closer than colleagues should be. And at times like this, alone with each other, those questions loomed larger.
Jenna set her fork down, giving the question the consideration it deserved. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But you’re right—we’re long overdue to figure it out.”
“I’m not asking for any kind of a decision,” Jake said quickly. “Not tonight, with everything else…. But whatever future is out there … after this case is wrapped up...” He let the sentence trail off, the suggestion clear.
Jenna felt a flush of warmth spreading through her. “After the case,” she agreed. “We’ll talk.”
The moment seemed charged with possibility—until the sharp ring of Jenna’s phone shattered the tension. She reached for it, grateful for the interruption even as she noted Frank’s name on the caller ID.
“Frank,” she answered, raising a hand to Jake in apology. “Any update?”
But it wasn’t Frank’s voice that responded. “Jenna? It’s Piper.”
Jenna’s breath caught in her throat. She stood up so quickly her chair scraped against the floor. “Piper? Where are you? Is everything okay?”
“We’re about an hour outside of Piltdown, on our way back to Trentville,” Piper replied, her voice clear but tinged with exhaustion. “Frank says we should be home around eleven.”
Jenna closed her eyes, relief washing through her. Frank had called earlier, around four, with the news that he’d picked up Piper at the Piltdown police station.
“I’m sorry I won’t be there to meet you,” Jenna said, moving to the window. Outside, the last light of day was fading from the sky, painting the horizon in shades of purple and gold. “I’m working a case that’s turned complicated. But I’ll explain everything later.”
“That’s okay,” Piper said. “But the voices—they’ve been trying to warn me about you. Said you’re in danger.”
“I’m being careful,” she assured her sister. “And the messages you’ve been getting—they’ve actually been helpful. I’ll tell you all about that later too.”
After a few more exchanges—promises to be careful, reassurances that she’d see her soon—Jenna ended the call. She turned back to find Jake watching her, concern on his features.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
Jenna slipped the phone back into her pocket. “That was my sister. Frank’s bringing her home tonight. They’ll be there around eleven.”
“That’s great news.”
“It is,” she agreed, unable to fully articulate the swirl of emotions—relief, joy, apprehension, all tangled together. Her sister was really coming home again and she sounded like she wanted to stay. “But we’ve got a job to do before anything else.”
Jake pushed back from the table, gathering their plates. “Then we’d better get ready,” he said. “It’s almost dark.”
They moved through the apartment in the gathering dusk, preparing for what lay ahead.
Jake checked the narrow closet in Ruth’s bedroom, testing the door to make sure it would open silently when needed.
He placed a small folding chair inside along with a bottle of water, and put his service weapon within easy reach.
Jenna, meanwhile, stood before the bathroom mirror, studying her reflection with a critical eye.
Ruth’s nightgown hung loose over her uniform, which she was still wearing.
In the dimming light, with her features softened by shadow, the resemblance wasn’t perfect—but it should be enough to fool someone viewing her through the crude projection of the camera obscura.
“Think it’ll work?” Jake asked, appearing in the doorway behind her.
Jenna turned, taking in his doubtful expression. “It doesn’t have to be perfect,” she said. “Just good enough to draw him into the room.”
“The minute anything happens—”
“I know,” Jenna cut him off. “We’ve been over this.”
“Yeah, well, forgive me for wanting to be sure,” Jake replied, a hint of his usual humor breaking through. “This isn’t exactly standard procedure.”
Jenna smiled despite herself. “Since when have we ever followed standard procedure?”
He returned her smile. “True enough.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost seven. We should get into position.”
Jenna followed him back to the bedroom. The space had been carefully prepared—bed turned down, lights dimmed, door to the hallway closed. From the outside, it would look like Ruth had retired for the evening, unaware of danger lurking in her walls.
She had no idea what to expect tonight—whether their killer would take the bait, whether the plan would work, whether they’d emerge from this confrontation unscathed.
As she slipped beneath the covers of Ruth’s bed and adjusted the pillows to support her back, she found an unexpected comfort in knowing —
Piper was on her way home.
Whatever happened in the hours ahead, that thought would carry her through.