Fatal Dreams (COBRA Securities Book 17)

by Velvet Vaughn

  “I’m okay. I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to call. I’ve been dealing with the police. I just got home.”

  “I understand. Is there anything I can do? I can bring you something to eat.”

  The thought of food turned her stomach. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m good.”

  “I feel helpless,” Joelle admitted. “I want to do something, but I don’t know what.”

  “There’s nothing you need to do, but I appreciate you checking in.”

  Joelle cleared her throat. “There is one more thing.”

  Esme already felt battered, so another hit likely wouldn’t faze her. “What?”

  “I have alerts set up if the name of your shop pops up online. One caught my eye. It’s from Crystal Ball Fortunes. Their website, actually.”

  “Bernice and Bernie?” Esme rose from the sofa and hurried to her desk to power on her computer. When it loaded, she brought up her browser and opened the website. She gasped, dropping into her chair. “That bitch.”

  One half of the landing page featured a picture of Lumi’s house crisscrossed with crime scene tape and dripping blood, the name of the shop clearly visible. Lightning flashed in the background. Prominently displayed on the other side was a sunny, smiling Bernice. The bold heading above the heavily-photoshopped picture read: Come to Crystal Ball Fortunes where our readings won’t kill you.

  “She’s an evil opportunist,” Esme muttered.

  “Yeah, I thought so, too,” Joelle agreed. “If I knew how, I’d crash her website on principle.”

  Esme chuckled. “Thanks. I appreciate the hypothetical offer.”

  After she disconnected, she spared the website one last scowl before closing it out. As distasteful as it was, a sick feeling churned in her gut. How would the bad publicity affect business? Merle’s murder made the third strike against them. Marge’s thievery was strike one, Femi’s murder strike two. Even though Femi hadn’t died inside the house, she’d worked there for years. People might seriously think twice about booking an appointment or visiting the gift shop. Lumi’s cadre of faithful patrons would follow her like lambs to the slaughter, but what about new clients? Some might come just for the macabre, but others might agree with Bernice’s heartless statement.

  Her cell dinged again. She tensed before recognizing, “Holding Out for A Hero,” by Bonnie Tyler. She couldn’t answer fast enough. “Ethan.”

  Ethan had been extremely reluctant to leave her alone at her house, but she wanted time to come to terms with what had happened. The next time she saw her aunt, she’d have to confess her capacity to see the future. She’d have to tell Ethan, too, and she wasn’t looking forward to that conversation, either. If the police kept investigating her for Merle’s murder, she might have to reveal her abilities to the entire world, opening herself up to mockery and scorn. Lumi had been subjected to it repeatedly over the years but it didn’t faze her. Esme would need to take lessons from her.

  “Hey. How are you feeling?”

  “Okay. Tired. Pissed.”

  “Pissed? Did something else happen?”

  She told him about Bernice Gorman’s website.

  “That’s sick,” he agreed. “Just say the word and I’ll have Tyler obliterate it from the internet.”

  She chuckled. “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t want to stoop to her level. Besides, she’s like a bad habit. She’d just keep coming back.”

  “I know you turned me down, but after everything that’s happened, I’d feel better if you weren’t alone. I could sleep on the couch.”

  As tempting as the offer was, she needed time to herself. And turn him down? Never. “I’ll be fine. I’m going to try to sleep.”

  “I’m a phone call away if you need me.”

  “Thanks, Ethan.” She was reluctant to hang up. His voice soothed her, and she enjoyed talking to him. He was smart and witty and brought a sense of calm to her frazzled nerves. She almost changed her mind and invited him over, but her lids drooped so she bid him goodnight instead.

  “Goodnight, Esme.”

  After washing her face and brushing her teeth, she checked her reflection in the mirror. Gah, she was a mess. Bloodshot eyes stared back at her. Her flat, stringy hair looked dull and lifeless. Her skin was pale and…were those bags under her eyes? She probed the puffiness. Great. She’d need to raid Lumi’s cabinets and swipe a handful of tea bags to reduce the swelling if it hadn’t receded by morning.

  After flicking off the bathroom light, she dug pajamas out of her dresser drawer and slid them on. She was afraid she’d picture Merle’s dead face when she closed her eyes. The more she tried to force the thought from her mind, the stronger his image became. She popped one of the Melatonin supplements she took before bed each night and chased it down with a slug of lukewarm water from a bottle before crawling under the covers. She sincerely hoped the pill did its job and helped her sleep. She didn’t need to worry. Her system crashed and she was out like a light.

  #

  Esme shot straight up out of bed, her breath sawing in and out of her lungs. Another vision plagued her slumber, this one involving Sophie. Someone was going to kidnap and torture her best friend.

  Tossing the sheets off, she scrambled out of bed and dove for her phone, ripping it from the charger on her dresser. She accessed her address book and dialed Sophie’s number, but it kicked directly to voice mail. Maybe she turned her phone off since she was on shift. Esme asked Siri for the number for the hospital and then waded through several recorded messages before reaching a live person and requesting Sophie’s floor.

  “Fifth floor nurse’s station.”

  “I need to speak with Sophie Hobson. It’s urgent.”

  “I’m sorry, Sophie isn’t working tonight.”

  Esme’s heart started pounding. “Is it possible she’s covering a shift or helping somewhere else?” Sophie mentioned that several of the staff had been hit with the flu. Maybe she was needed in a different ward of the hospital.

  “I don’t think so but let me put you on hold and check.”

  The wait seemed to last an eternity before the woman came back on the line. “Sophie isn’t working anywhere in the hospital tonight.”

  “Do you have any idea where she might be?”

  “I don’t, unless she’s home resting. Maybe she caught the bug going around.”

  “Thank you.” She disconnected and hurried to the front window to peer outside. Sophie’s car wasn’t there. She tried her number again. Voice mail.

  Esme didn’t know her exact schedule, but she would’ve sworn Sophie said she was on shift tonight. Maybe she was wrong, but if so, why wasn’t she answering her phone?

  Esme had no idea what to do. It was like reliving Femi’s disappearance all over again. Suddenly an image of Ethan’s handsome face flashed in her mind and ignoring the time, she dialed his number. She hadn’t met him yet when Femi vanished, but she knew she could count on him now. Despite being almost two in the morning, he sounded wide awake.

  “Esme, what’s wrong?”

  “Something’s happened to Sophie.”

  “Who’s Sophie?”

  She’d forgotten that the two hadn’t officially met. “My friend. She’s rents the other half of the duplex from me.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “I don’t know!”

  “Esme, it’s the wee hours of the morning. I’m not fully functioning yet. You’ll need to help me out. Why do you think something happened to her?”

  There was no way to keep her dreams from him now. “I don’t want to explain over the phone. Can you come here?”

  “I’m on my way.”

  She knew she could count on him. She tried Sophie’s cell one more time but hung up after reaching her recording. Where could she be? She’d only been in town a few months and hadn’t made many friends besides Esme and the other nurses on her shift. She didn’t have any family. Her parents died when she was young, and she’d been raised by her grandparents. Her grand
father died five years ago, and her grandmother passed away last year, prompting Sophie to move when she’d applied for and landed the job at the Bloomington Hospital. She wanted out of her old hometown of Dayton, Ohio, saying it held too many sad memories.

  Headlights from a large vehicle cut through the front window. It was too big for Sophie’s car, so that meant Ethan. She unlocked the door and whipped it open. If she wasn’t so worried about her friend, she would’ve taken the time to appreciate the magnificent man as he slid from his vehicle and strode towards her bathed in moonlight and the glow from her porch sconce.

  “Thank you so much for coming, Ethan. I don’t know what to—Ethan?”

  He’d stopped abruptly, his mouth slightly agape. That’s when she realized she stood in front of him in her skimpy lacy camisole and tap pants. Her very see-through camisole. She’d been consumed with worry, so it never occurred to her to throw on a robe.

  Her cheeks flaming, she spun around and headed for her bedroom. She just assumed Ethan would follow. He did, closing the door behind him. She found her robe in the closet and slid it on before she faced him again. She used the time to compose herself. What she had to tell him wouldn’t be easy. He might think she was a lunatic and want nothing to do with her. The thought of never seeing him again was like a knife to her heart.

  #

  Ethan wasn’t sure he could concentrate enough to help Esme with her friend. Not only was it the middle of the night, but as soon as he stepped outside of his Escalade and saw her standing in the open doorway beneath the pool of light in what could only be described as every man’s fantasy outfit, lust had slammed into him so hard, he couldn’t speak or inhale air into his lungs. All he could do was stare at the perfect rose-tipped breasts the sheer fabric did nothing to conceal.

  He felt like a concupiscent teenager again. Sex had never been hard to come by for him. Ever since Rainbow of the multi-colored hair and non-existent inhibitions initiated him into the carnal world of pleasure when he’d barely reached his teens, he’d indulged frequently. He loved sex, wouldn’t apologize for his, some might say hedonistic, lifestyle. He’d even spent one memorable weekend on a nude beach in Ibiza on the coast of Spain. The human body was a wonderous thing that should be celebrated. But he never mistreated a woman and made sure that she was as satisfied by the experience as him—more so, even. He never took risks with protection, attested to by his clean bill of health each year. So, one set of perfectly shaped breasts shouldn’t send his IQ crashing and burning. For heck’s sake, he’d dated one of the hottest women on the planet, a Ms. August who went on to be named Playmate of the Year.

  Yet, it was Esme of the emerald eyes and luscious black hair that reduced him to a gawking idiot. Even now, sitting on the couch in her living room, he had to adjust his cargo pants lest he cut off circulation to a very vital part of his anatomy.

  He focused on his surroundings to keep his mind from conjuring up images of following her into her bedroom, lifting the frilly red top over her head and taking one of those rosy tips into his mouth. Her small house was nicely furnished and smelled clean and exotic, like Esme herself. There were several unlit candles placed throughout the room, hence the aroma. Her television was around forty-five inches and mounted on the wall above a fireplace. He didn’t get a chance to take in more of the décor before she reappeared. His heart picked up speed knowing what was concealed beneath the fuzzy pink robe that covered her almost to her red-tipped toes.

  “Do you want something to drink?”

  Come to think of it, he was parched. He’d depleted quite a bit of bodily fluid drooling over her. “Water would be good.”

  Grabbing two drinks from the fridge, she rejoined him in the living room and handed him a cold bottle. He’d taken a seat on one side of her blue suede sofa. She perched beside him.

  “Why do you think something’s happened to your friend?” he asked when she remained quiet, looking deep in thought.

  “I can’t get in touch with her. She was supposed to work tonight, or at least I thought that’s what she said. But when I called the hospital, she wasn’t on duty.”

  “Is she a doctor?”

  “Nurse. I would’ve sworn she told me she worked tonight. I’ve tried calling, but her phone instantly kicks over to voice mail.”

  “You said she rents the other half of your duplex?”

  She pointed a thumb in the direction of the adjoining unit. “Yes.”

  “Have you checked to see if she’s home?”

  She gave him an eye-roll that clearly indicated she thought he was an idiot for asking. He bit back a smile.

  “Her car isn’t outside.”

  “Maybe she had car trouble.” He eyed her meaningfully. “It happens, as you very well know. Someone could’ve given her a ride.”

  Her eyes widened in hope. “I didn’t even think about that. Her car’s a piece of junk.”

  She shot off the couch and flew out the door faster than a Mach 7 North American X-15 rocket jet. He hurried to catch her. She knocked several times before giving up, her shoulders slumping in defeat. He guided her back to her house, closed the door behind him and engaged the lock.

  After they were reseated on the sofa, he asked, “Why were you trying to get in touch with her at this time of night anyway?”

  A blush stole up her cheeks and she averted her gaze. Then she jumped to her feet and started to pace. “I’m reluctant to share this with you. I’m afraid it’ll change the way you think of me.”

  Was she going to tell him that she and this Sophie woman were more than friends? Lovers, perhaps? And damn, didn’t that conjure up some interesting fantasies. It’d definitely change how he thought of her, but not necessarily in a bad way.

  “You know my aunt has a gift and can give accurate readings.”

  He shuddered at the thought of her aunt but covered it up with a nod when she glanced at him.

  “I’ve never had any such abilities. I can read people by their facial expressions, but as far as any psychic gifts, I’ve had none—until lately.”

  He sat up straighter. “Go on.”

  “It started about a week before I met you the first time. Strange dreams started to come true, and I don’t mean like hitting the lottery. The first was when I dreamed a bird had flown into my aunt’s house and made a mess. When I went to work the next day, I found a pigeon in my shop and it made several messes. I laughed about the coincidence.” She told him about dreaming of a broken window, only to come home to one, and then images of a house burning down and that coming true as well.

  “The worst one was when I dreamed Femi died.”

  “You foresaw her death in your dreams?”

  She nodded. “It was horrible, especially when I couldn’t get in touch with her and then she disappeared.”

  Wow, this was a little tough to grasp. Ethan didn’t necessarily believe in psychic abilities or magic, but then he didn’t not believe either. He’d seen some things that defied explanation in his SEAL days. Men who should’ve died but were spared by something that could be attributed to divine intervention or heck, magic. Hearing Esme say her dreams were coming true had him leaning towards believing.

  “What about any dreams since?”

  “That’s the thing…they stopped right after I went to Chicago, all the way through Femi’s disappearance and then funeral. I didn’t have another one until the night before I saw you again. I dreamed my tire went flat and then, as you know, it happened.”

  “What does your aunt have to say?” He’d been leery of asking about Lumi, but he figured the strange woman knew more about this kind of thing than he did.

  “I, uh, haven’t told her.”

  He raised a brow. “She doesn’t know about your dreams?”

  Esme sighed. “No. She’d make a great big deal out of it and I’m still trying to come to terms with it myself.” She dropped to the couch. “I haven’t told anyone about them except for Lyra and now you. I confided in her a few days ago. She enco
uraged me to focus on the positive aspect. If I know someone’s going to be hurt, I could call and warn them, possibly saving their life.”

  Realization dawned. “You dreamed about Merle McDougal dying. That’s why you called and left a message. To warn him.”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you dream that you’d find him in your shop?”

  She threw up her arms. “No, and I don’t know why. This is all new to me. I don’t understand any of it.”

  “Okay, so you’ve told me about the dreams, and we’ll talk more about that later. Why do you think your friend’s in danger now? I’m assuming you dreamed about her tonight.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. “She was kidnapped and tortured. It was horrible. That’s why I’m freaking about not being able to find her.”

  He moved closer and wrapped his arm around her. “We’ll figure this out.”

  “She doesn’t have any family, Ethan. Her parents are gone and the grandmother who raised her died recently.”

  “When was the last time you saw her?”

  “Last night at the restaurant, but she got called in to work. She’d borrowed an outfit of mine and she said she might be able to drop it off at the cleaners before her shift tomorrow night, which would be tonight.”

  “She specifically said before work?”

  “Yes.”

  Ethan’s phone had been vibrating like crazy in his pocket from the moment he stepped inside her house. He’d ignored it to focus on Esme, but now it was an almost constant shudder that he needed to address. He fished it from one of the side pockets in his pants and glanced at the screen, his eyes widening. Esme looked at him questioningly. He held a finger to his lips and activated the scanner app Tyler designed.

  “Can you think of anywhere else she might’ve gone? A friend’s house. Boyfriend. Anywhere she might spend the night.” He rolled his hand indicating they should keep talking as before.

  She nodded and continued chattering away as he swept her apartment. Her hand gripping the band of his pants was distracting—mostly because he wanted to feel her soft fingers slide lower—but he concentrated on the task at hand. The first bug was attached to the underside of a table beside the sofa. She sucked in a breath when she realized what he was doing, but quickly recovered and kept talking. He found one more in the kitchen. Both were listening only. In her bedroom, he found two that were video feeds. Damn. Her privacy had been severely invaded, just as Peyton Durant’s had been on his last case. He and Noah found bugs in Peyton’s apartment, too. Thankfully, they’d been able to destroy Peyton’s tapes before they could be leaked to the internet. He prayed they’d be able to do the same for Esme. Though not as high profile as Golden Girl Peyton, anytime compromising pictures were released on the world wide web, they were there forever.