The Last Ride: The Search for Jason Spencer

The sky over Clarksville, Tennessee, was iron-gray that morning, and the Cumberland River churned with the heavy rains from the night before. The water’s surface rippled as if hiding secrets, which in a way, it was.

Jeremy tightened his rain jacket, nodding to Adam as he finished prepping the boat. “Six miles from his house,” Jeremy muttered. “This ramp makes sense. If Jason’s truck went in the water, this is where it would’ve happened.”

Adam gave a quick nod. “Cold as hell, though. This water’s barely 48 degrees. Visibility’s gonna be garbage.”

Jeremy shrugged. “That’s why we’re here. If it was easy, someone would’ve found him years ago.”

They pushed off, the boat engine coughing before settling into a steady hum. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, but the cold gnawed at them. Jeremy tried to focus on the sonar screen instead of the chill creeping through his gloves.

They scanned carefully, running tight grid patterns. At first, nothing but silt, trash, and the occasional fish appeared. Then the screen flashed with a shape.

Adam leaned closer. “There. You seeing that?”

Jeremy squinted. The outline was blocky, unmistakable. “That’s a vehicle.”

“Not sure if it’s a truck,” Adam said, adjusting the range. “But it’s something big. Worth a dive.”

Jeremy dropped a buoy to mark the spot. They planned to dive later, but curiosity kept eating at him as they continued scanning. Just a few hundred yards downstream, they found another strange shadow on the sonar, this one longer and more defined.

“That one,” Jeremy said, pointing. “That’s a truck bed if I’ve ever seen one.”

It was eerie. The river was quiet except for the occasional splash of a fish. The boat floated still for a moment as the two men stared at the screen.

“Jason’s Dodge Ram,” Adam said quietly. “It has to be.”

They marked the second spot and called over Jacob from Chaos Divers, who had been searching the other ramp. Within the hour, the team assembled, ready to confirm what they had found.

Into the Cold

Bryson, one of the most experienced divers on the team, suited up first. The rain had returned, pelting against the water like tiny needles, but he didn’t hesitate.

“You good?” Jeremy asked.

Bryson grinned under his hood. “Good as I’ll ever be.”

He rolled backward into the water, bubbles rising where he disappeared. The current tugged at him, but he knew how to move with it.

On the surface, Jeremy waited, nerves tightening in his stomach. Every dive felt like a coin toss — would they find nothing but mud and weeds, or would they come face-to-face with tragedy?

When Bryson finally surfaced, his face was grim.

“It’s a white Dodge,” he said, pulling off his regulator. “Ram 1500. It’s him.”

The words hit Jeremy like a weight. It was what they had been hoping to find — and what they had been dreading.

The Recovery

Police arrived within the hour, setting up a perimeter near the boat ramp. The rain turned into a steady drizzle, soaking through Jeremy’s jacket, but he barely noticed. He watched as the divers went back down to attach rigging to the truck.

The tow truck operator waited patiently on shore, cable ready. It was quiet, except for the hum of the winch as the line grew taut.

Then the surface of the river broke. First the roof appeared, then the windshield, smeared with silt and algae. The white paint was dull, the headlights dark. The truck emerged slowly, dripping with river water as though reluctant to let go of the secret it had been keeping for nearly a year.

When the vehicle was finally on the ramp, officers moved in, speaking quietly. They confirmed what everyone already knew — there was a body inside.

The Family

Jason’s daughter had been waiting at the scene, clutching her coat tightly against the cold. When the officer approached her, she didn’t cry. Not at first. She nodded once, sharply, like someone receiving bad news they already expected.

Jeremy walked over and put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” he said softly.

She looked up at him, her eyes wet. “Thank you for finding him,” she whispered. “I just… I just needed him home.”

Jeremy nodded, throat too tight to speak. This was why they did what they did — to give families answers. Even when the answers were painful.

After the Search

That night, back at the house, Jeremy sat in the garage surrounded by the muddy equipment they had used that day. The smell of the river clung to everything — wetsuits, ropes, even the air.

He thought about Jason. About the way a simple drive on a rainy night could end with a truck sitting silently in the dark river for months.

He thought about the daughter, her face pale but calm as she thanked him. He wondered if she would ever find peace.

Adam came in quietly, holding two cups of coffee. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Jeremy shook his head. “I keep seeing it. The truck coming up out of the water.”

Adam sat down beside him. “We did what we came to do. We gave them answers.”

Jeremy nodded slowly. “Yeah. But I wish we could’ve given them something better than this.”

The Funeral

A week later, Jeremy and Adam stood quietly at the back of the church as Jason’s funeral began. The room was filled with friends, neighbors, coworkers. Photos of Jason lined the tables — smiling, laughing, holding his daughter when she was little.

The preacher spoke about Jason’s life, about the kindness he had shown to others, about the way he had always been ready to help anyone in need.

Jeremy felt something twist in his chest. He had never met Jason, but he felt like he knew him now — knew the last road he drove, knew the silent resting place where he had been waiting all these months.

When the service ended, Jason’s daughter found them in the parking lot.

“I wanted to tell you something,” she said quietly. “We’re having his truck restored. Not to drive, just… to keep. It was his pride and joy. He loved that truck.”

Jeremy smiled faintly. “That sounds like a good way to remember him.”

She nodded, then hesitated. “He would’ve liked you. You remind me of him. Stubborn enough to never stop until you find what you’re looking for.”

Jeremy didn’t know what to say. He just nodded, and for a moment, the grief felt a little lighter.

Moving Forward

Months later, Jeremy and Adam were back on the river, chasing another case, another mystery. But Jason Spencer stayed with them. Every time the sonar lit up with a shadow, every time they dropped a buoy, every time they pulled something up from the water — they remembered.

The river was full of stories, some sad, some hopeful, all waiting to be discovered.

That night, after another long day of searching, Jeremy sat by the fire at home and opened his notebook. He wrote down Jason’s name, the date they found him, and a single line beneath it:

We found him. We brought him home.

Epilogue

Jason’s daughter eventually had the Dodge Ram cleaned and restored. The truck sat in a garage now, not as a reminder of tragedy, but as a monument to the man who had owned it. She said she sometimes sat inside it late at night, just to feel close to him again.

Jeremy and Adam kept searching the rivers, their work taking them to new towns, new mysteries, new families waiting for answers.

Every time they found a vehicle, every time they gave someone closure, they remembered that cold rainy day when they brought Jason home.

The river never stopped flowing, but neither did they.