CHAPTER ELEVEN
Night had settled firmly over Trentville when Jenna finally pulled the cruiser into her mother’s driveway.
It was nearly eleven—later than she’d planned to arrive.
The front windows of the house were glowing with warm light, so she assumed that not everyone had gone to bed.
She killed the engine and sat for a moment as she gathered the remnants of her energy.
She’d been running on fumes since finding Piper, and the murder investigation had only drained her further. But her mother was waiting, and some conversations couldn’t be postponed.
As she made her way up the familiar path, Jenna noted the garden beds barely visible in the gold-tinged glow from the front porch—those bright marigolds and black-eyed Susans were just shadows now.
She remembered Piper kneeling among those same flowers, recognition blooming on her face as memories surfaced after twenty years of absence.
She tapped lightly on the front door. “Mom?” she called, keeping her voice low in case Piper was already asleep.
In just moments, her mother opened the door.
“In here,” she said softly as she led the way into the living room.
“I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.
” Mom sat down in her old armchair by the window.
A half-empty teacup and an open book were on the side table.
The television was on but muted, displaying the late local news.
“I’m sorry.” Jenna sank onto the sofa across from her. “It’s been a long day. How’s Piper?”
Her mother's expression softened. "She had a good day, all things considered.
We went through some of the old photo albums this morning.
She remembered a lot of the pictures, though some seemed to confuse her.
" A small, sad smile touched her lips. "She kept stopping at photos of your father.
I think it's hard for her to reconcile that he's gone. "
Jenna nodded, understanding the disorientation all too well. “And physically? Is she eating? Sleeping?”
“She ate well at lunch—I made her favorite soup, and she had two bowls. Dinner was lighter, just a sandwich, but she seemed satisfied. She went to bed about an hour ago. Said she was tired, but I think...” She hesitated.
“What?” Jenna prompted.
“She seemed... restless. Like she was listening for something.” Her mother’s eyes met Jenna’s, worry evident in their depths. “Is that normal? After everything she’s been through?”
Jenna chose her words carefully. “Dr. White said we should expect some unusual behavior. Piper’s mind is still processing her return, trying to reconcile her life as Emma with her memories as Piper. It’s bound to create some... dissonance.”
Her mother nodded, but her expression remained troubled. She reached for the remote and turned off the television with a decisive click.
“I watched the town meeting earlier on TV,” she said, her tone shifting.
Jenna stiffened slightly.
“Someone asked an odd question,” her mother continued, her voice tightening. “Something about red yarn.”
The statement sounded more like a challenge rather than a question. Jenna remained silent, weighing her response.
“Were you planning to tell me?” Her mother’s voice had taken on an edge that Jenna hadn’t heard in months, not since she’d begun her recovery from alcoholism. “That just after Piper said ‘red is for rage’ you learned that Derek Sullivan was found wrapped in red yarn?”
Jenna exhaled slowly. “I was going to tell you, yes. But I wanted to understand more first. To be certain there was actually a connection before worrying you. And I’m still not sure of that, myself.”
“Worrying me?” Her mother’s laugh held no humor. “Jenna Marie, I’ve spent twenty years worrying. Finding out my missing daughter might have some supernatural connection to a murder is hardly going to tip the scales.”
“I know, Mom. I’m sorry.” Jenna leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “I’ve been trying to protect both of you. Piper’s still so fragile, and you’re just getting your feet back under you. The last thing I wanted was to bring more chaos into this house.”
Her mother’s expression softened slightly.
“I appreciate the concern, but I’m not made of glass, Jenna.
I didn’t fall apart when I discovered you could.
.. communicate with those who’ve passed.
That you actually use the advice of the dead to help solve crimes.
Finding out Piper might have her own unusual gifts wouldn’t exactly shock me.
” She leaned forward, her voice dropping.
“In fact, I’d almost expect it, given you’re twins.
What I can’t handle is being kept in the dark.
If something’s happening with her, I deserve to know so I can face it head-on. ”
Jenna nodded, acknowledging the truth in her mother’s words. “You’re right. I should have alerted you about the possible connection immediately.”
“So tell me now,” her mother said, setting her teacup down with a decisive clink. “Everything about this case. And don’t leave anything out.”
Jenna sat back, gathering her thoughts. “Derek Sullivan was found early this morning in the old mill district. He’d been strangled, and his body was wrapped in red yarn—wound around his arms, legs, torso in intricate patterns.”
Her mother winced at the description but nodded for Jenna to continue.
“We know he was at the Centaur’s Den last night until closing.
Aaron Hopper threw him out for starting a fight and breaking some glasses.
Derek was heavily intoxicated.” Jenna remembered the security footage they’d reviewed.
“After that, he apparently decided to walk home through the mill district. It’s a shortcut, but it can be a dangerous one, especially at night. ”
“And that’s where he was killed?” her mother asked.
"Yes. The medical examiner puts the time of death between 1:30 and 3:30 a.m. The body wasn't discovered until an early morning jogger spotted it."
“And there were no witnesses?”
“None that have come forward.” Jenna hesitated, then added, “We’re looking into all of Derek’s interactions at the bar before he was thrown out.”
Her mother was quiet for a moment, absorbing the information. “And the red yarn? That seems... deliberate. A message of some kind.”
“That’s what we think,” Jenna agreed. “But we don’t know what it means yet. We’ve sent samples to the state lab for analysis, but the preliminary findings suggest it’s ordinary craft yarn, easily available at lots of stores.”
“And no other murders in Trentville have involved red yarn?” her mother pressed.
“No. Nothing like this.” Jenna’s mind flicked briefly to other cases—the string of murders that had plagued their county over the past year had all been different, with no apparent connection.
Her mother was silent for a long moment, tapping against the arm of her chair. “And you don’t think it’s a coincidence that Piper said those words—’red is for rage’—just before you got the call about Derek?”
“I don’t know,” Jenna admitted. “It seems unlikely to be random chance, but...”
“But what?”
Jenna hesitated. “But if it’s not a coincidence, that means Piper somehow knew about a murder before I did. And it opens up a whole set of questions I’m not sure either of us is ready to face.”
Her mother’s eyes were steady on hers. “You mean, whether she’s psychic. Or exactly how?”
Jenna nodded slowly. Those words seemed stark and unavoidable. “Yes. And if she is, how does it happen? Not when she’s sleeping, dreaming, like my own insights. And what does all of this mean for her? For us? For this investigation?”
“I think,” her mother said carefully, “that we’ve both suspected Piper had... unusual sensitivities... even when she was a child. Remember how she always knew when someone was upset, even if they were hiding it?”
Jenna nodded, a memory surfacing: Piper insisting they take a different route to school one morning, only to learn later that a serious car accident had occurred on their usual path.
“If these abilities are somehow what drove her away,” her mother continued, “if they frightened her so badly that she felt she needed to protect us from them...” She didn’t finish the thought, but Jenna understood the implication.
“Then they might frighten her again now,” Jenna concluded softly. “Drive her away again.”
“Exactly.” Her mother’s voice was barely above a whisper. “We’ve only just got her back, Jenna. I can’t lose her again.”
“I think,” Jenna finally said, “that we should keep the information about this murder from Piper for now. Not forever, but at least until she’s more settled. More secure in who she is and where she belongs.”
Her mother nodded, relief visible in the easing of tension around her eyes. “I agree. She’s making progress, but it’s fragile. Delicate. The doctors said routine and stability are what she needs most right now.”
“And maybe,” Jenna added, “maybe it was just a coincidence. Random words that happened to match a detail of the crime. It’s happened before in cases—apparent connections that turn out to be nothing.”
“Do you really believe that?” her mother asked, her gaze piercing.
Jenna sighed. “No. Not really. But I’d like to.”
Her mother’s smile was sad but understanding. “We all would.”
Jenna glanced at her watch—nearly midnight. “I should go. Let you get some rest.” She stood, her joints protesting after the long day.
“You’ll keep me informed? About the case?” her mother asked, rising as well.
“I promise,” Jenna said, embracing her. “No more secrets. At least not between us.”
Her mother held her tight for a moment. “Be careful, Jenna. Whatever this is—whatever connection exists between Piper and this murder—it frightens me.”
“I know, Mom.” Jenna pulled back, meeting her mother’s concerned gaze. “It worries me too.”
They walked together to the door, where Jenna paused. “Call me if anything happens with Piper. Anything at all, no matter how small it seems.”
Her mother nodded. “I will. Frank’s coming by again tomorrow to check on us, so that’s something.”
“Good. He’ll be a comfort to both of you.” Jenna stepped onto the porch, the night air cool against her skin. “Try to get some sleep.”
“You too,” her mother replied, though they both knew it was an unlikely prospect.
As Jenna walked back to her car, the weight of the day settled more firmly on her shoulders. She’d finally found Piper after twenty years, but instead of the joyful reunion she’d imagined, she found herself entwined in a mystery that threatened to disrupt her sister’s fragile recovery.