Protecting the Dream (A Dream Seeker Novella Book 2)

by Sharp, Michelle

  Ty stood, picked her up, and carried her downstairs to the sofa. “You could have died falling down those fucking stairs. Are you hurt? I tried to catch you and not crush you at the same time.”

  “I’m cold, but I’m okay,” she whispered. “Just give me a second.”

  He flipped on the light.

  She moved her arms and stretched out her legs. Nothing felt broken.

  “I’ll be right back.” A minute later he returned with the quilt from their bed and draped it around her shoulders. He started a fire and then sat on the edge of the couch. “How can you be sure you’re okay—”

  She pulled him in for a kiss and felt the knotted tension in his neck. “Are you all right?” she whispered against his lips.

  “Physically, I’m okay. Mentally, I’m not so sure. Those crazy dreams scare the hell out of me.”

  She glanced away, ashamed that she’d allowed him to be so affected.

  Ty caressed her cheek. “Hey, look at me. I’m not afraid of the dreams. I’m afraid you’re going to hurt yourself. We just need a better game plan, that’s all. What if I wasn’t here? What if you’d fallen all the way down those stairs? We need a way . . .”

  He raked his fingers halfway through his hair and froze. “This is why you had a lock on the bedroom door of your condo, isn’t it? Because of the dreams.” He dropped his arms, but his hair stood on end. “It wasn’t to keep anyone out, it was to keep you in. I asked you about that lock, thought it was weird. Why wouldn’t you mention a two-dollar lock that would take me five minutes to install?”

  Heat flamed in her cheeks. She hadn’t mentioned it because it was embarrassing. “Do you know how it makes me feel to admit that I need to toddler-proof our bedroom just so I can sleep in it?”

  “Do you know how it makes me feel to watch you fall down a flight a stairs? Like an idiot who didn’t think to do the simplest thing to keep you safe. I can’t believe I didn’t put it together.”

  “I’ll buy a stupid lock,” she snapped at him. “And I can put it on myself. It’s not your job to take care of me. I’ve dealt with these dreams for a long time, long before you came into my li—”

  “You’re wrong.” His clipped tone kept her quiet. “It’s our job to take care of each other now. That was a dumb thing not to tell me about. If there’s something I need to know to keep you safe, you have to tell me.”

  He slid behind her on the couch and wrapped his arms around her.

  She snuggled into his chest and soaked up his warmth. Her body temperature felt like it had plunged into Arctic territory.

  “You told me I could ask anything I want, any time I want,” he said. “So what was that dream about?”

  Closing her eyes, she tried to recount all the details. She couldn’t remember if Ellie had said the man’s name, but he had to be the same man Liz talked about—a business partner of Joe Henderson’s. “Are you sure you want me to tell you every detail about my dreams?”

  “Of course I’m sure. Why?”

  “Okay, then.” Jordan pushed herself up to meet his gaze. “Ellie Henderson was murdered in this house. A man pushed her down the stairs. She died at the base of them. I don’t know what he did with her body, but I think her spirit is still living right here. With us.”

  ***

  Ty got up off the couch, paced a couple laps back and forth across the floor. It was barely dawn and already it had been the day from hell. He turned to Jordan. “How long have you known?”

  “How long have I’ve known she was killed in the house? About ten minutes. But I suspected something before that.”

  “Like the first night we were here and you had a dream,” he accused. “See, this is what drives me nuts. Why didn’t you just say you had a bad feeling about this house?”

  She pulled the blanket tighter around her body. “Because I didn’t have a bad feeling then. I had a dream, but it wasn’t a bad one. I saw a man and a woman. At first I thought it was you and me. Then it got confusing, like it shifted and all of a sudden it wasn’t us. But there wasn’t anything creepy about it. No murder, just images of a couple’s life.”

  “And you think that couple was the Hendersons?”

  “I know it was the Hendersons. At first I wasn’t sure until I talked to Liz and Bill Tucker at their coffee shop and things started to click.” Jordan got up, padded across the room to the fire and huddled on the hearth. “I also sort of questioned Liz when I ran into her by the lake.”

  “So the whole time we’ve been here, you’ve been conducting an investigation? One you didn’t bother to tell me about?”

  “No, not really. That’s not how it happened. You told me to check out the property, see if I liked it here, and that’s all I was doing. One thing led to another and it just kind of snowballed. Didn’t you ask any questions about the Hendersons before deciding to buy this place?”

  He stopped pacing and turned to her. “Why would I? The realty company I worked with said Joe Henderson died in a car accident and that Mrs. Henderson got financially overwhelmed and just skipped out. They said the bank went through the whole legal foreclosure thing. I didn’t know there was any mystery here.”

  “She didn’t skip out, Ty. She was murdered.”

  “Are you sure? No body was ever found.”

  “You and I both know that doesn’t mean a damned thing. According to Liz, Joe Henderson had a business partner who moved into the stables right after Joe died under the pretense of helping Ellie with the horses. But I’m pretty sure his end goal was to take control of the horses, the ranch, and the big fat pile of insurance money Joe left for Ellie.”

  Ty’s stomach lurched. Based on what the realtor had said, he’d assumed Mrs. Henderson was heartbroken after her husband died and had given up and moved on. “You think this business partner killed Ellie Henderson?”

  “I know he did. The dream confirmed it. I’m sorry, Ty. I know you liked the Hendersons.” She sat quietly for a minute, giving him time to absorb her claim before she went on. “But there’s more.”

  He dropped down on the couch. “You’ve got to be kidding me. How much more could there be?”

  “Well, I think a lot of people suspected foul play when Ellie disappeared, but there was simply no proof. What I don’t think anyone suspects is that this man also killed Joe Henderson.”

  Ty’s breath escaped on a rush. “But Joe died in a car accident.”

  Jordan shrugged. “Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe Ellie was wrong. But in my dream she accused this guy of tampering with Joe’s car.”

  That was more information than his brain was able to compute. What a disaster. “So what do we do with this knowledge?”

  “No idea. But from the dream I got the feeling that Ellie Henderson stashed some money away and it still may be missing. She lied to this business-partner guy, told him Joe’s insurance policy was for one million dollars. He called her on it. Said he helped Joe pick out the policy and knew it was for three million. They were fighting about the missing two million when he got pissed and pushed her down the stairs. That much I know for sure.”

  “So did he get his hands on the other two million?”

  “No idea about that, either. But I’ll tell you one thing. Ellie Henderson would have set the money on fire before letting that guy get his hands on it. Wherever she hid it, she hid it good.”

  Ty sank back into the couch cushion.

  “Say something, would you?”

  He opened his mouth, scratched his head, but words escaped him.

  “Seriously? You yank my chain for the truth. ‘I want the truth, Jordan. I need the truth from you.’ Then when I give it to you, you don’t speak. That’s crap. Pull up your tighty-whities and help me figure out what we’re supposed to do.”

  He held up his hands. “I have no idea what to do. I guess we find out who this guy is and track him down.”

  “He’s dead. Liz said he got loaded and they found him frozen to death in his car. There’s probably a good story there, too. I h
ope Ellie and Joe haunted the hell out of him until he lost it.”

  “Do you know what happened to Ellie’s body? If so—”

  Jordan adamantly shook her head. “I didn’t see anything after she fell down the stairs.”

  “Then we’ve got nothing. Nothing beyond what they had seven years ago. No body. The suspect is dead.”

  He scooted to the edge of the couch and stared unblinking at the floor, trying to get a handle on the mess.

  Jordan uncharacteristically let him think without interruption.

  “Chances are we’re never going to be able to prove he killed Joe Henderson, even if we comb through old case files. We think maybe there was some mishandled money, but how do we know for sure? We can’t very well go to the police and ask them to look into it. The only evidence we have is your dream. And we can’t . . .”

  Jordan stood when his words trailed off. She folded her arms across her chest and raised a brow. “Can’t what? Can’t walk into a precinct full of cops and tell them your psychic girlfriend had a dream? Can’t ask to reopen a cold case based on that dream? Would that be uncomfortable for you?”

  She turned her you-are-such-a-dickhead expression on him. “What’s the matter, Ty? Afraid of looking like a jackass?”

  He was pretty certain he already did look like a jackass. This was what she’d been trying to explain all along, the reason she was so tight-lipped about her dreams.

  “Look, I don’t doubt your dream. I just mean—”

  “I know exactly what you mean. A theory or suspicion or dream means nothing without evidence. Even if your gut knows the truth. Welcome to my world, cowboy.”

  He moved to where she stood and put his arms around her waist. “Maybe it’s time we pack up and leave. I’m sorry I got us mixed up in this. I can’t see it ending well.”

  Jordan trapped his face between her hands and forced his gaze to hers. “I’m not leaving. Not now.”

  “But Ellie Henderson was murdered in this house. Do you really want to start a life together here?”

  She smiled. “Just because someone took her life here, that doesn’t mean she hates us. If Ellie wants us out, she’ll give me a sign. And if she wants me to pursue this investigation, it won’t matter where I sleep at night. She’ll show me what I need to know whether I’m here or in my condo in Saint Louis. The Hendersons were victims. It may take some time for the pieces to fall together, but eventually we’ll prove to everyone what happened. And we’ll have hard evidence when we do. In such cases, waiting is definitely the hardest part.”

  “I don’t know how we’ll ever make this right,” he said.

  Jordan snuggled into him. “I do. I bet they buried Joe Henderson somewhere in town. Not only did some greedy bastard kill them both, but Ellie isn’t buried next to her husband. That’s not right. Ellie Henderson should at least get to spend eternity near Joe. I’m going to make that happen for her, Ty. I swear I will.”

  ***

  Ty had spent two days being mysterious and quiet. He claimed to be working on a project out in the stable, but he wouldn’t tell Jordan what it was. He also told her not to go to the lake.

  Maybe sharing her dream and all that had happened to the Hendersons had been a mistake. After all, she’d had a lifetime of experience dealing with the unpleasant events she dreamed about. Ty was still getting used to the idea that the dreams were even real.

  It was hard to let her mind think it, but what if he’d been acting so strangely because he now realized what life would be like with someone like her? What if he’d decided he couldn’t do it?

  She was standing at the kitchen counter staring aimlessly at paint samples when he plowed through the kitchen door.

  “Grab a jacket, woman. We’re taking a walk.”

  Teasing mischief lit his eyes. And if instincts counted for anything, hers said that his expression wasn’t screaming, I’m ready to dump you.

  “Does this mean I’m no longer under house arrest?” she asked.

  “You were never under house arrest.” He moved to where she stood, pressed her against the countertop, and gave her one hell of a kiss. “I just needed to take care of a few things.”

  After one of his kisses, she always felt like the human equivalent of a helpless deer trapped in Tyler McGee headlights—stunned by the shocking sensations and crippled with utter stupidity. Any doubt about how he felt about her vanished as well, so at least there was that.

  Zipping her jacket, she followed him outside.

  The sky was clear and bright, the air fresh and crisp. Fifty-two degrees was practically a heat wave for the first of March in Missouri. She trailed behind him, recognizing that they were headed for the lake.

  “Now, we can do this one of two ways.” He stopped and faced her. “Either you can close your eyes when I tell you to, or I can use this.” He pulled the black scarf out of his back pocket.

  “Oh, I don’t think so.” She folded her arms over her chest. “That ship has sailed, sailor. The last time I let you blindfold me, I ended up with a house.”

  He grinned and leaned in to kiss her.

  She stepped back, threw up her hands. “Not happening, pal. You think I don’t know my own weakness? You’re not getting anywhere near me with those lips.” She stabbed a finger at the scarf. “Especially not with that thing in your hand.”

  “Come on. My surprise is nowhere as big as a house. It’s much smaller.”

  Her heart gave a squeeze of panic. “How small?”

  He chuckled, immediately following her train of thought. “It’s not a ring, I swear. It’s not much of anything actually, and you’re ruining the fun.” He gave up and took her hand. “Fine, spoilsport. Keep your eyes open.”

  “Okay, all right,” she grumbled. “Just stop. And walk slower so I don’t trip.” She closed her eyes. “But I’m going to remind you, trust is a fragile thing in a relationship. If you fuck it up—”

  “Hey, don’t blame me for your insane trust issues.” He swept her up into his arms. “You were fucked up long before I got to you.”

  She surprised them both by throwing her head back and laughing. “You know, I’d really be pissed off if that weren’t so true.”

  About five minutes later, he stopped. Based on the moist, earthy scent and the faint rippling-water sound, they were next to the lake. He eased her to her feet. To be a good sport, she kept her eyes shut.

  “This feels kind of anticlimactic after the big buildup, but you can look now.”

  She opened her eyes. Just a few feet from the boulder she liked to sit on, a wooden swing hung from a big wooden frame. A trellis was fixed to the top. Desperately afraid her voice wouldn’t work, she stood quietly taking it in. The amount of work he’d put into it in such a short amount of time . . . It just . . .

  She couldn’t finish the thought, much less form a lucid response. “It’s beautiful,” she finally managed. Drawing in a shaky breath, she inched closer. She stroked the wood, traced her fingers down the rich, dark grain. “I can’t believe you did this,” she whispered.

  “You seem to like it outside more than inside.”

  She lifted her head and stared at him.

  He stuffed his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “I figured once in a while you might like to sit on something more comfortable than that big rock.”

  “Can I sit?”

  He laughed. “Well, if you don’t, I went to a lot of trouble for nothing.”

  She eased onto the swing, barely shifted it.

  “Oh, come on, you wuss. Didn’t you ever have a swing set as a kid?” He plopped next to her, sending them both flying backwards with a big push of his foot.

  The unexpected shove made her squeal in the most un-cop-like way. She threw her arms out like an airplane and actually giggled.

  Ty dragged his foot to slow them and chuckled. “Okay, okay. I’m not sure the cement is totally set around the frame.”

  They were both smiling like kids. Was it any wonder she’d turned her back o
n everything safe and tumbled straight into a rabbit hole with this man? Those deep gray eyes were dangerous enough all on their own. He had to go and be all amazing on top of it.

  She rubbed the wood again. “You built this for me?”

  “You.” He nodded. “And Ellie Henderson.” He stood and picked up a piece of wood from the ground, turning it so she could read an inscription on one side.

  In loving memory of Mary Ellen Henderson.

  Jordan blinked, but her eyes and nose and throat burned ridiculously.

  “Obviously we’ll get a real plaque. I was just goofing around with that.” Tossing the wood aside, he sat next to her again. “I got to thinking about what you said. Since her body was never found, Ellie Henderson doesn’t have anything to honor her memory. It just didn’t seem right.”

  He slipped his hand around hers. “I didn’t know the Hendersons well. Still, I feel bad living in this house—hell, in this town—without paying Ellie some respect. I can’t believe no one has done something for her before now.”

  Jordan swallowed, fought to find her voice again. “Everyone thought she ran away. Left town and her troubles behind.”

  “But she didn’t. That wasn’t Ellie Henderson.” Ty squeezed her hand tighter. “We know differently, and now that we do, I thought we could j—”

  Jordan pulled her hand from his and pressed her fingers against her eyes, but there was no stopping the emotion rising from deep inside.

  When she glanced at Ty, his mouth had dropped open and his eyes were wide. He looked stricken. “Baby, I didn’t know it would upset you. I can find another way to honor her.”

  “You stupidly sweet idiot, will you just quit talking for a few seconds? Christ, I can’t even catch my breath.” She swiped at the tears that hedged dangerously close to the ugly cry category. “I swear if you don’t quit twisting me into knots, I’m gonna cram every inch of that blindfold you like so much into your mouth.”

  A few long breaths helped to ease her back to composure. But she waited a moment longer to speak.

  “I love the idea of the swing, the memorial, the plaque.” She swallowed hard. “But to the rest of the world, she’s not dead, just missing.”