“No.” I grimaced at my sharp tone. “Sorry. That didn’t come out right. I’m okay. Deputy Mayes and I are working the murder case. I’ll be tied up through sundown.”
“And Charlotte? She with you?”
I gulped. I didn’t want to lie to my father, but how could I explain what happened? “Charlotte’s spending the day with Deputy Duncan.”
Soft murmuring filled the line before my dad spoke again. “Your mother says to change your crystals.” More murmuring. “She says to carry your gun.”
A sob choked out of me. My mother’s intuition was spot on.
Thank goodness.
Bushes rattled. Mayes walked toward me, his normally tanned face as pale as the thin clouds rimming the eastern sky. “Thanks,” I said. “Gotta go.”
Mayes stopped near me, right eyebrow arched.
I hardly knew which question he had in mind. I went for the most expedient answer. “You’ll feel better in a few minutes. Before we head to the hospital, I need to return to my camper to change my shirt. Then, we need to talk.”
He nodded and went over to sit in the cruiser. Hurrying to the camper, I washed my face, luxuriating in the cold water. It felt like heaven. I swapped out my sweat-dampened tee for another of the same vintage. I hastily dumped my pocketful of crystals on the table and grabbed a fresh set. The Beretta I tucked in my waistband.
On my way out the door, I caught sight of the coolers. No way could I tolerate food right now, but a ginger ale would be great. I found two cans and jogged back to Mayes.
The cruiser door was open. I slid into the passenger seat, leaving my door open to create a cross-breeze. Mayes accepted the soda with a weak smile. “Thanks.”
“So,” I began after we’d both had several sips of ginger ale, “you do this often?”
“This ….” His voice hitched and trailed off. “It’s never been like this before. I’m weak as a kitten.”
“I’m none too steady myself. Where were we? Are our friends truly safe?”
He stared blankly ahead as he took another swig of ginger ale. “The Little People are said to dwell in the mountain, but as best as I can figure out, the mountain is more like a gateway to their realm.”
I’d figured as much, but I needed more information. “Are they living, dead, or something else?”
“Definitely something else.”
“Why do they need our help? They seem powerful enough.”
Mayes shrugged. “We can’t tell anyone what happened.”
“Figured that much out already when my dad asked about Charlotte. I explained she was spending the day with your deputy. Can you cover for him and for Gail at work?”
“As long as this doesn’t go south on us. You can hold up your end, right?”
“Right.” I was certain Rose would answer my call. Unless she didn’t.
“What?” Mayes asked.
I let out the breath I’d been holding. “You’re very good at reading people.”
“Have to be in this job. You thought of something just now. What was it?”
“My guide isn’t a dog that comes on command. I’ve only seen her in my dreamwalks. What if she can’t or won’t make an appearance in the land of the living?”
“Thought of that already. You and I walk between worlds. We can relay the messages back and forth if she can’t materialize.”
“Seems reasonable. Good. Next question. What do we do between now and dusk?”
He stared at me in a way that had me shrinking inside. “We solve the case.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Mayes drove to the hospital like the car was on fire. It seemed surreal to be doing ordinary tasks when my best friend was being held hostage by supernatural beings.
Two thoughts eased my fears. First, my time in Little People land had seemed like a mere thirty minutes, while in truth it had been the entire morning. That gave me hope Charlotte wouldn’t be watching the clock. Second, I knew she was attracted to Deputy Duncan. Charlotte could very well be having the time of her life. Being stranded with a hunk in a park would not be a hardship for her.
At the hospital, monitors beeped from each room we passed, and our rubber-soled shoes squeaked on the shiny floor. We nodded at the guard outside the sheriff’s room, and then we stood at Twilla Sue’s bedside. Despite yesterday’s energy transfer, the sheriff had not awakened.
Mayes spoke to the guard and closed the door. He gave me a nod. “You’re on.”
“Are you tagging along on this dreamwalk?”
“Not this time. I need to conserve my strength for later today. I can do what you do, but not as easily and not as frequently. What you have is a true gift.”
I scowled at him. “Sometimes it seems like a curse. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wished to be normal.”
He shrugged. “You are what you are.” With a tip of the head to his boss, he said. “Get her to come back to the surface with you, or at the very least, get me a lead we can use.”
“Would you like me to also secure world peace and end poverty?”
He crossed his arms and growled at me.
Men. They had no sense of humor. I edged closer to Twilla Sue. She looked so serene, it seemed wrong to disturb her slumber. Her unnatural slumber, I reminded myself.
Girding myself for an ordeal, I wrapped my fingers around her hand. At once, I heard the sweet sound of humming. A lullaby.
A rosy scene unfolded before me in the dream plane. A child’s nursery glowed with the soft blush of early dawn. Adorable monkeys decorated the wall and lamp. Two stuffed monkeys guarded the white crib.
I turned toward the soft singing in the corner of the room where a woman rocked an infant. Twilla Sue. I didn’t know she had a daughter.
“Shh,” she said in a stage whisper, “don’t wake the baby.”
I reminded myself this was a dream. There was no actual baby that I could disturb. Even so, it wouldn’t hurt to play along. I softened my voice. “Twilla Sue, I need you to come with me. This place, it isn’t real. It’s all in your mind.”
She continued to rock the baby and pat its back. Her eyes drifted shut. “I’m here with my darling Miranda. Such a sweet baby. I love her so much.”
“Do no harm” was more than an oath taken by those in the medical profession. I also operated under the same philosophy. If Twilla Sue was content in her delusion, could I bring her out of it without upsetting her? I gave it a shot. “The baby’s asleep. You can put her down in the crib now. She’ll sleep through the night.”
The woman snapped to attention. Her eyes bugged out. “I can’t put her down. I just can’t. She’s my precious baby girl.”
I matched her sharp tone, needing to jolt her into reality. “This is a dream, Twilla Sue. You’re in the hospital. A man hurt you, and we need your help to catch Jonas Canyon. This nursery, even the baby … they aren’t real.”
“Of course they’re real. This is Miranda’s nursery. I painted these pink walls myself. My mother found the monkey designs for us online. This room is absolutely perfect for a little princess like my daughter.”
The nursery was Twilla Sue’s refuge, a hideaway where she wasn’t the sheriff. Without knowing why she sought refuge in that memory, I had no means of talking her around to waking up. I needed another way in.
I cleared my throat and spoke in a no-nonsense tone, the kind Twilla Sue used routinely. “You’re the sheriff, Twilla Sue. A dangerous man named Jonas is hunting people on your turf. He steals their energy and leaves them for dead. You know things about this man we don’t know. Things that would help us catch him.”
Twilla Sue swatted my words away with a flip of her wrist. “Bah. Police business. Not my concern. I’m on maternity leave right now.”
Nothing was working. All I had left was tough love. I walked over and tapped her on the shoulder. “Snap out of it, woman. Duty calls.”
Her jaw trembled, then hardened. “No. I don’t have to do what you say. Get out!”
The dream faded, and my
consciousness returned to the bright hospital room. I released Twilla Sue’s hand and glanced at Mayes. “I’m so sorry. I failed you.”
“You couldn’t reach her?”
“I spoke with her—that was the easy part. She’s reliving an aspect of motherhood, that of rocking a newborn to sleep. There’s a pink nursery and monkeys. The infant has on pink jammies. You know anything about that?”
“A little. It happened before I joined the force. Twilla Sue’s daughter died a few weeks after her birth. Sudden Infant Death Syndrome, they said.” He paused, taking a long look at his sleeping boss. “After the baby’s funeral, she poured herself into police work. But all the ground she gained in her career drove her husband away. She’s been divorced for years.”
The pieces started to fit together. “That explains why I couldn’t get her to leave. The mother I saw holding her baby would’ve traded her entire career to have one more hour with her daughter. That memory is everything to her.”
Mayes muttered something under his breath. His next glance at his boss wasn’t a kind one. “What about Jonas?”
I shook my head. “I got nothing useful from Twilla Sue. The nursery construct is her only reality right now. She told me she was off duty.”
The shrill of Mayes’ phone startled us both. Mayes took the call and shepherded us both out the door. With a quick instruction to the guard, he dragged me down the hall.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Got another victim.”
Chapter Thirty
Mayes stopped the cruiser at another lakeside spot, only this one was ringed by his Cherokee brethren. They stood in knots of twos and threes—stoic, dark-haired icons against the blue-green backdrop of forest and lake.
“We just got the call,” I said, staring at the crowd. “How’d they get here so quickly—smoke signals?”
Mayes logged his position with HQ and turned off the car. “Wrong cloud. Try social media. The tribe has gone high tech, and there’s an app for everything, including bad news.”
“Do you know who it is?”
He paused and rubbed his eyes. “White Feather, known outside the tribe as Dana Finley.”
I followed him around the car, studying the sadness on his face, registering the slight hitch in his voice. “You sound resigned, like you expected this to happen.”
“I’d hoped she’d changed paths. White Feather didn’t believe in her value. She struggled to find her place in the tribe and in the world. Looks like the world won.”
His forward gaze seemed riveted to one spot. I tracked his line of sight to a blanket-covered person on the ground. Behind us came the wail of an ambulance. “Nobody won if she’s dead,” I said. I glanced beyond the crowd to the tree line, wondering if Jonas was out there, watching.
It would be easy to search for energy signatures beyond the crowd, but should I expend my psychic energy on that? I needed a full tank to deal with Rose and the Little People at dusk. If I couldn’t deliver, Charlotte’s fate was uncertain.
Deputies approached Mayes and filled him in. With Twilla Sue out of commission, he was the acting sheriff. Since I stood behind Mayes, I heard the case specifics. A petite, nineteen-year-old female of mixed heritage was the victim. The man walking his dog at the lake thought she was sleeping, only it had been the Big Sleep. There was no sign of struggle, no obvious means of death. The man had backed away and called authorities.
I felt a nudge of cold to my legs, and I nearly jumped out of my sneakers. I’d seen nothing of Oliver today, so I assumed the ghost dog had business elsewhere. Now it seemed he wanted my attention.
I’m busy, Oliver.
Oliver nudged me again. I got the message. He had something to show me. I opened my senses to Oliver’s dimension. He immediately quivered with excitement. Putting his nose to the ground, he skirted the crime scene and darted away. I followed.
“Powell.” Mayes’ voice filtered through my thoughts as if he’d spoken from another room. I ignored him and followed Oliver. We walked along the shoreline and up a path through the woods. At a place where water must have pooled in the past, a clear shoe imprint was visible. My ghost dog barked excitedly and circled the print.
Hmm. Oliver was good at this detecting stuff. Good dog, Oliver. I gave his ears a scratch, and he faded from sight. I dug into my pocket for my phone and punched in Mayes’ number. His phone shrilled right behind me. He didn’t bother to answer.
“Got something?” he asked.
I pointed at the soft ground. “Yes. A shoe imprint. Oliver found it.”
“The ghost dog?”
To his credit, he didn’t scoff at the source. “Yes. He thinks he’s a regular Sherlock Holmes.”
“This print could belong to anyone.”
His gruff tone sounded much like my sheriff’s back home. No way was I letting him ignore this clue. I met his steely gaze. “Except it doesn’t. This is proof the killer walked this way. I’m guessing a road is farther along this path.”
He nodded. “Hawk’s Nest Trail. It’s unpaved.”
“Get yourself a scent dog up here. It’ll track the killer from the body up this path and to the road. I’d wager money on it. You might even get some tire tracks.”
Mayes knelt down to study the print. “This is deep and a size-eleven-or-so sneaker. The man who made it must be two-fifty, easy, maybe more. Not Jonas Canyon. I estimate his weight was barely one-fifty.”
“It could be Jonas. If he was carrying White Feather.”
Mayes stared at the ground some more. “That works.” He rose, made a call, then turned to me. “Don’t wander off again. I need you to stay in my field of vision.”
A team of deputies approached. Mayes directed them to secure the scene and cast the footprint. While they worked, I trailed Mayes to the road, wishing I could do more. I wanted to help, and yet I needed to conserve energy. A quandary I didn’t want or need.
Mayes stopped and pointed to a shrub. A broken branch dangled by the path, about thigh high. Even I could see the whiteness of newly splintered wood. Only, if not for Mayes, I wouldn’t have seen it at all.
“Touch it,” he said.
Another dreamwalk? I shoved my hands in my pockets. Fingered the crystals there. “I shouldn’t. The others … I need everything I’ve got for later today.”
“I need you right now. Help me catch White Feather’s killer, and every member of my tribe will donate energy to the cause this evening.”
The idea horrified me. “I’m no psychic vampire. I don’t steal energy from others.”
“Don’t be hardheaded. Energy is energy, and I’ll make sure you have enough. One of my deputies is trapped, as well as your friend and a prominent state official. If you hold back, we all lose.” He glared at me. “Do your job.”
My job. I gritted my teeth. I didn’t like him calling what I did a job. Dreamwalking was something I did on my terms, and even though a simple touch-read like this branch wouldn’t drain much energy, I disliked being ordered about.
Biting back resentment, I grabbed the branch. Immediately, I jolted into the head of the person who broke the branch. He was breathing hard, but the strange thrill coursing through his veins was unlike anything I’d experienced. The path we’d traversed came into view, then the lake. He moved White Feather from his shoulder and gently laid her down at water’s edge. The sun’s first rays bathed the sky in brilliant glory.
Her eyelids slowly raised to reveal dull brown eyes. The spark of life was faint, but Jonas’ face reflected in her dilated pupils. She managed a strangled whisper. It sounded like “Please.”
“Patience,” Jonas said. Then he walked around her body, sprinkling powder from his pocket along his path. A circle. He made a circle.
He knelt over her, straddling her belly. Tenderly, he interlaced his fingers through hers.
The tepid warmth of her flesh jolted me. I struggled not to interrupt the vision because I knew there was nothing I could do for White Feather. This scene I was v
iewing had already happened. It was history. I bit my lip and watched as it played out.
Jonas bent forward until his lips hovered over hers. He applied firm pressure to her hands until her eyes fluttered again. “It’s time.”
His hands buzzed. That was the only word I could think of to describe the sensation. He gazed into her eyes and watched the light go out. Even then, he didn’t release her hands. After a few moments, he kissed her lightly on the lips. “For your gift,” he said.
He closed her eyelids and posed her arms in a tee shape. Then he took a branch and brushed the ground to erase his tracks all the way back to the path. Energy writhed like a pulsing serpent within him, White Feather’s energy. Jonas exulted in the feeling, jumping for joy as he headed up the path … toward someone.
A woman waited for him in a car.
The vision faded.
“Tell me,” Mayes said. “What did you see?”
Chapter Thirty-One
“You could’ve experienced the vision with me,” I said, relieved to feel only my thoughts rattling inside my head. The downside of visions is that the vision stays vivid in my consciousness temporarily, as if it were a memory.
Mayes glanced around the wooded path. “Someone had to keep guard. You saw something. I watched your face change. That sick bastard loves doing this, doesn’t he?”
I filled him in, then I added my observations. “Jonas killed her in a ritual. He watched her die as he siphoned every drop of her energy into himself. Other than that, he did not harm her. He seemed reverent to some extent, taking care to reassure her.”
“This guy is a stone-cold killer.”
Something twisted in my gut. “I’m not so sure. White Feather didn’t protest. She wanted the transfer to happen.”
“I don’t believe you.”
I cleared my throat gently. “From what you told me, she was a bit of a lost soul. Could her death actually be a suicide? Can a person forfeit their entire life energy?”
“I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“But is it possible?”
“I don’t think so. There are too many safeguards in place in the body, too many systems that go on automatic pilot even during a severe illness.”
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