A Dark Place

A Dark Place A Jenna Rayne Mystery By C.N. Hill This book is a work of fiction. The names, character, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale, or organizations is entirely coincidental. Copyright © 2023 by Colleen Baxter ISBN: Cover Design: Dar Albert, Wicked Smart Designs Edited by Luna Imprints Author Solutions Proofreader: Luna Imprints Author Solutions All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. First publication 2023 Bad Kitty Publications https://cnhillmystery.com Dedicated to Carolyn Hand Bynum, a truly remarkable lady I am proud to call my friend. Table of Contents Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine Chapter Thirty A Dark Place Prologue Just off Hwy 91, Harmon County, Georgia Cicadas buzzed in the trees. Somewhere, a bat squeaked in the darkening day. An engine cut through the twilight sounds as a car bumped along the clay road. The rusted yellow sedan pulled up to a single-wide trailer and stopped, leaving its engine running. It cut off, and the crickets slowly restarted their evening trill. The car door creaked open and a figure emerged, then slammed the door shut. The crickets went silent once more. He tried to listen through the buzz of the cicadas, but soon gave up and went to the rickety, wooden steps, climbing them until he reached the door. He turned the handle and pushed the door in. He waited a moment before stepping in and looking around. Night had crept up and the room lay in darkness. He pulled out his phone and shined the thin flashlight around the interior. “Angie? You here?” A sudden breeze swirled through the open door. He peered through the gloom. His eyes landed on decayed walls with paperboard pulled free in places. A battered couch had stuffing spilling out from where the mice and rats had gotten to it. He frowned. Something was wrong. He took another step on the bare linoleum floor and a few leaves crunched under his foot. The floor creaked from across the room and he paused. “Angie?” He spun at another sound and fumbled with the phone. It went skittering across the floor, its light still piercing the darkness. Panic shot through him, leaving his heart racing. His breathing became shallow. He turned to reach for the door, but it slammed shut and something struck him across the shoulder. He spun around and tried to reach for his attacker, only to find his arm would not cooperate. Another blow sent him spinning around and tripping, falling onto the floor. A final blow came down and severed the back of his neck, causing his body to go limp and his lungs to pause in their life-giving work. Valiantly, his heart continued to pump, pushing blood out of the severed arteries in mighty pulses that sprayed across the room. The pulses weakened after a few moments, then slowed down to a Chapter One Limsdale, Reed County, Georgia Jenna sat in the lobby, trying to calm her beating heart while tightly gripping Rob’s hand. He reached over and rubbed her hand with his free one and looked down at her. She met his gaze but dropped hers immediately. “Mrs. Hannigan?” A young woman in business attire motioned for them to follow. Jenna rose on shaky knees. Rob held tight to her hand and they entered the office of Drew Shaughnessy, Jenna’s lawyer. Months earlier, Jenna had gone to do a simple reading. The spirit she’d contacted, a young girl, had named her volleyball coach, Larsen, as responsible for her death. Information that Jenna had relayed to the family. Shortly after, the girl’s father had killed Larsen and then himself. The coach’s family wanted someone to pay, and they had decided to sue Jenna for slander. “Ah, Mrs. Hannigan—or, I should say, Miss Rayne, as that is the name the suit is filed against. We have asked for the police records from the investigation into Bridget Martin’s disappearance. After going over them, we have found a couple of interesting facts.” Jenna leaned forward, desperate for some good news. “First, the deceased was a suspect from the very beginning. Still is, since the case is open and no body has been recovered. He was the last person to see the victim on the evening she disappeared and could not account for his whereabouts on the night in question. Second, other girls have since come forward to state that he had singled them out, grooming them for inappropriate relationships. Girls on the team also observed his special treatment of Miss Martin.” “So, how is this important? Are you trying to prove he did it?” “No. But simply to show that Larson was a suspect, and for good reason. If we can establish that, then Jenna’s statements may not be ruled as slander. We’ll be weighing that along with other possible defenses and their precedents.” “When is the hearing?” “March 6, at 11am.” “What will happen?” “The judge will hear both sides and make a determination. It will either go on to trial or be thrown out. Obviously, we hope for the latter.” Jenna nodded. Drew went over a