Dream Walk (A Lacey Fitzpatrick and Sam Firecloud Mystery Book 4)

by Melissa Bowersock

  The officers came in, one pushing the door further open with his nightstick. They both eyed her warily.

  “I’ve been taking pictures,” she told them, “but I haven’t touched anything.”

  “Would you step out into the hall?” the portly man with the nightstick asked. “You can give my partner the details while I look around.”

  “Sure.” Lacey joined Sam and the manager in the hall. The manager was staring aghast at the damage, too transfixed to even acknowledge Lacey.

  No gold star for you tonight, Lacey thought.

  The second officer drew their attention. “I’m Officer Pruitt. Could I get your names, please, and see some ID?”

  By the time Pruitt had gone through his gamut of questions and the manager had gone to make his own report, Adrian arrived with another vice officer.

  “Jesus!” he swore as he surveyed the damage.

  “Yeah,” Lacey agreed. “They were very thorough.”

  “Is anything missing?”

  She laughed grimly. “Haven’t had a chance to check. We didn’t want to disturb anything. Hi.” She nodded to the new vice officer.

  “Oh, sorry,” Adrian said. He introduced his partner, John Rosario. Then he turned to Pruitt. “Detectives on their way?”

  “Yeah. Should be here shortly.”

  “Okay.” Adrian turned back to Lacey and Sam. “Obviously you can’t stay here tonight. I can give you a couple suggestions for a new hotel to move to. Now,” and he faced the door, surveying the damage, “this all becomes evidence, as you know. How about if John and I go with you and see if any of your personal things are salvageable?”

  “Sure,” Lacey said, but she was not hopeful. From what she’d seen, little had escaped the vandals.

  Adrian led the way. Once they’d all navigated the kitchen and living room, Lacey headed for her room and Sam for his. Adrian’s eyebrows climbed up in surprise.

  “This is a two-bedroom,” Lacey said. She knew what he was wondering, and she was not going to address that particular issue, not now and not with him.

  “Okay,” he said finally. “John, you go with Sam. Lacey…” He motioned for her to lead the way.

  Lacey tiptoed around the mess. The bed covers were tossed in mounds around the bed, leaving a narrow walkway between them and the clothing ripped out of the closet. Lacey surveyed the pile of t-shirts on the floor. A couple, she noted, were ripped, but others looked whole.

  She turned to the dresser. All three drawers were pulled open, one completely off its track and dumped on the floor. Most of Lacey’s underwear and socks were scattered about but a few pieces were still in the drawer.

  They made their way to the bathroom. Lacey’s few cosmetics had been dashed to the floor. Her cologne, the bottle broken, puddled on the floor in a fragrant, amber pool. The shower curtain was ripped from its rail and was wadded up in the tub. Her powder blush sprinkled the ground like pink snow.

  “Look,” she said. She pointed to a place where the blush was concentrated. There was a slight impression in the powder, a rounded edge with a rippled pattern inside. “That’s a footprint,” she said.

  Adrian approached carefully and squatted down so he could get a good look. “You’re right.” He took out his phone and snapped a picture. “It’s only the toe, but it could be helpful.”

  He stood and looked around. “Notice anything missing?”

  “Not that I can think of. It looks like it’s all here, just… broken.”

  “Unfortunately,” he said, “it looks like everything was handled, so we can’t let you take any of it with you. Not until we check it all for prints, at least.” He apologized with a resigned shrug. “You’ll just have to buy a few things to get you through.”

  “Yeah.” That was not a problem. They could probably pick up some travel-sized supplies at a drug store. Her eyes kept straying back to the partial footprint, though, her mind churning.

  “Sam needs to see this,” she said suddenly. She stepped out of the bathroom and called him. “Sam? Can you come in here?”

  In a moment he appeared at the bedroom door, John right behind him.

  “What’s up?”

  “Come in here,” she said, pointing to the bathroom. “We’ve got a print. See what you can make of it.” At Adrian’s puzzled expression, she said, “Sam’s a tracker.”

  Sam picked his way to the bathroom and Lacey and Adrian moved aside to give him room. He crouched down and examined the partial print.

  “Running shoes,” he said, “judging by the pattern on the sole. I’d say about a size ten or eleven.” He stood and surveyed the rest of the floor. “Here’s a bit more.” He pointed to a tile behind him. Flecks of pink in the faint ripple pattern. “Let’s see what else we got.”

  He edged past the others and did a slow walk through the bedroom, his eyes focused on the floor. The carpet was a low pile, not given to impressions, but at Lacey’s bed, he hunkered down and studied the jumbled sheets.

  “Here,” he said. The others crowded around. One corner of a sheet was lying flat on the carpet, and on that Egyptian cotton was an impression of a shoe. A different shoe.

  “No pattern,” he said, indicating the lack of features within the outline. “This shoe is more pointed. A separate heel. About a size twelve.” He looked over his shoulder at Adrian. “So we’ve got at last two suspects.”

  Adrian took pictures of the print.

  Just then they heard talking out in the front room. A new male voice called out. “Adrian? John?”

  “In here,” Adrian responded.

  Another man poked his head in the bedroom door.

  “Bill,” Adrian said. “Come over here. We’ve got something.”

  Adrian did quick introductions. Bill Wright was another detective sent to head up the investigation. He already had latex gloves on, and squatted beside Sam as Sam pointed out the features of the faint print.

  When Sam finished his analysis, Bill looked at him with undisguised surprise.

  “He’s a tracker,” Adrian said. “Come on, Sam. Let’s see what else you can find.”

  Lacey might have laughed if she weren’t so tired. Drained, more like it. While the four men began a re-walk through the suite with Sam taking the lead, she made her way out to the hall. Pruitt had rounded up a couple of straight back chairs which he used as corner posts for his crime tape across the suite’s door. Lacey gratefully sank down in one.

  She checked her watch. It was a quarter to nine, not late by normal standards, but the last two emotion-packed hours felt like twice that. She wanted badly to curl up on a soft bed and sleep this day away. No such luck, though. There were still things to do.

  She pulled out her phone and began looking for a new hotel. Luckily, most places had vacancies, even for tonight. She asked Pruitt for a recommendation—safe, clean, close by—plugged that in and got a room. No suite, but a double king would do.

  It was another half hour before the four men returned to the hallway, Sam and Bill deep in conversation. Adrian crouched down beside Lacey.

  “You doing okay?” he asked quietly.

  “Yeah. Just tired.”

  “We should get you guys a new room.”

  Lacey held up her phone. “Got it. Pruitt recommended the Coachman.”

  “Okay, good. We’ve got this covered here, so you guys can go anytime. We’ll be working through the night here.”

  “Sounds like fun,” she said with a wry smile. “By the way, you may want to check with the manager for the security camera tapes.” She pointed to the corner down the hall where a camera was mounted.

  “Oh, yeah. Tons. And yes, we’ll definitely get the security footage. Thanks for the reminder.” He studied her face. “What are you going to do tomorrow?”

  She sighed. “Check out more storage places.”

  “I don’t suppose I could convince you to take an officer with you?”

  She shook her head. “That would seriously compromise our cover story,” she said. �
��We’ll be fine.”

  “All right.”

  Sam and Bill joined them. “Thanks for your help,” Bill said, sticking out his hand to Sam.

  “Anytime,” Sam said, shaking the hand. “Guess the traditional ways haven’t been completely replaced by technology.” He turned to Lacey. “Ready to go?”

  “Way past ready,” she said. She got to her feet and picked up her purse.

  “Uh, Lace? You might want to put that away,” Sam suggested, pointing to her shoulder holster. “Might make a hotel clerk a little nervous.”

  “Oh, yeah.” She laughed weakly, then stripped off the harness and stowed it out of sight. “More presentable now?”

  “Much,” Sam said. “Come on.” He circled her shoulders with his arm and steered her toward the elevator. The officers called their goodnights, and Lacey waved a hand over her shoulder.

  When they got to the car, Sam gently pried the keys from Lacey’s hand. “I’ll drive.”

  She was too tired to argue. She slid into the passenger seat gratefully.

  “Where we going?” he asked.

  She checked her phone. “Head down the Strip three lights, then hang a right.”

  The place wasn’t hard to find. Just a block off the Strip, its neon Vacancy sign flashed an invitation.

  Lacey powered through the registration, walked numbly to the elevator, and let Sam guide her to the room. It was quite a comedown from their earlier place, just a single room, two king beds, no amenities but a coffee maker and a mini bar. She didn’t care. She sat dully on the closest bed and stared at the wall.

  Sam prodded her to rise again. “Up,” he said, tugging her to her feet. He pulled the covers back, then pushed her gently back down. Lacey keeled over sideways onto the pillows.

  “Shoes,” he said. She stuck one leg out so he could pull her sneaker off, then the other. Finally he tucked her under the covers. “Okay, sleep,” he said. “See you in the morning.”

  “G’night,” she mumbled against the pillow.

  The room went dark. Just before she drifted off, she felt light fingertips trailing across her cheek.

  ~~~

  FOURTEEN

  Lacey awoke and cracked one eye, only to have it stabbed by a laser beam of sunlight slipping in between the curtains at the window. She moved slightly to escape the direct beam of light, then opened both eyes.

  Sam was still sleeping. He was facing away from her, but she noted the slow, steady rise and fall of his body as he breathed.

  She sat up and stretched, careful not to make any noise. This was going to be… different. Difficult to move around without disturbing each other. They would just have to be mindful of the close quarters.

  She tiptoed to the bathroom and splashed water on her face. Thank God for the tiny bottle of lotion on the counter; it was all the skin care she had. They definitely would need to buy some things today—at least a change of clothes, a few personal items. She wondered if they’d ever get all their “evidence” back.

  A fleeting image flashed across her mind of what might have happened if they’d been in the room at the time of the invasion. It certainly would not have ended well, of that she was sure. They were really going to have to keep their wits about them today.

  She poked her head out the bathroom door and saw that Sam was sitting up on his bed, wiping bleary eyes. She padded out and got the tiny coffee pot, filled it with water and started it brewing.

  “Can I have the bathroom?” he asked.

  “It’s all yours,” she said. Living together like this, she was acutely aware of the differences in their daily rhythms. She’d always been a morning person, quick to get up and get going, and also quick to fade in the evening, as she had last night. Sam awoke more slowly, and was still wide awake at night. Luckily that difference had never been a problem, but in this close setting, it could be.

  While he was in the bathroom, she made her bed and slipped her shoes on, then unwrapped Styrofoam cups for their coffee. She went to the window and pulled the drapes back partially; the sun was too bright for the full effect. She stared out at the parking lot below.

  “Are they out there?” he asked.

  She turned. “Who?”

  “The black SUV.”

  “No.” She hadn’t expected to see the Escalade, but she couldn’t deny she’d looked. It was unnerving thinking someone was tracking them.

  “Is this done?” he asked, pointing to the coffee maker.

  “Just about.” It was done gurgling, but was still spitting. She dumped packages of sugar and creamer in her cup, then poured for both of them.

  “Here you go.” She handed him his cup and took hers to the miniscule table at the back of the room. Sam followed and took the second chair. They sipped quietly, letting the warm brew infuse their bodies.

  “Does this place have breakfast?” he asked finally.

  “Yeah.” She doubted it would have the variety of the other place, but even a continental breakfast was better than none.

  Lacey got up to retrieve her purse and the phone book. She pulled out the map and a pen. Might as well set up their day as they finished their coffee.

  Sam suddenly sat up, staring at her. “Hey. I had another dream last night. This”—he tapped the map—“reminded me.”

  “Did you talk to Kyle?”

  “Yeah. I asked him to show me more, so we could find him. A street, an address—something. He gave me a wider view. There’s a gas station across the street.”

  “Gas station,” Lacey repeated, jotting it down. “Could you see what kind? Shell? Standard?”

  Sam stared at the wall behind her, his eyes unfocused. She could almost see him reaching back into his brain, into his dream state, for more details. But he was struggling.

  “No,” he said finally. “It’s not clear.”

  “Okay,” she said, not the least disappointed. “It’s still more than we had before. This should save us some time. Now, let’s plot out some more of these places on the map.”

  Sam’s phone rang. He snagged it from the nightstand and sat back down.

  “Hello? Courtney.”

  Lacey put her pen down and listened to his side of the conversation.

  “How are you? Still… okay, I know. We’re doing all we can… Yeah, still looking… No, not yet. We were just deciding that… We’re going to concentrate on the east side today. Don’t have the actual locations yet… Do you want to… Okay, sure. No, I understand. That’s all right… Okay. Bye.”

  “That was quick,” Lacey said.

  Sam tossed his phone on the table. “She’s still really screwed up. Terrified. I was going to talk to her about what we said before, buy her a bus ticket to get out of town, but she’s just totally rattled. I think hearing about the drive-by shooting really brought home to her how bold and dangerous these guys are.”

  “Not to mention the break-in last night,” she said. “It’s a good thing she went into hiding when she did.” She picked up her pen and started plotting storage places on the map. “At least our search should be a little easier today, knowing about the gas station.”

  They mapped out six locations, all on the east side of town, from north to south. “We may not get to them all today, but there’s always tomorrow,” she said.

  “If we’re lucky, we may not need to get to them all.” He frowned down at the map, his dark eyes intense.

  Lacey watched him for a moment. He seemed to zone out, his coffee forgotten. His breathing deepened and his nostrils flared.

  “Where is it?” she barely whispered, leaning forward. “Can you feel it?”

  The only evidence that he heard her at all was when he moved his hand over the map. He held it out flat, palm down, just an inch above the map. She had a fleeting image of a Ouija board, tentative fingers on the planchard, waiting for the spirits to move it.

  “It’s here,” he said, moving his hand in a broad circle over the east side. “It’s here. I know it is.” He looked up at Lacey. “We�
��ll find it.”

  She nodded grimly.

  Breakfast left a lot to be desired. English muffins, cold cereal and fruit, most likely canned. It was filling, but less than satisfying. The tiny tables and uncomfortable chairs did not invite leisurely dining, so they ate and headed for the car.

  “Maybe around lunch time, we can find a store and pick up a change of clothes,” she said. “A whole day walking around in these won’t—”

  Her phone rang; she checked the screen.

  “It’s Adrian.” She punched the button. “Hi, Adrian. What’s up?”

  “Morning, Lacey. I didn’t wake you, did I?”

  “Oh, no,” she said. “We’re just getting ready to head out to more storage places.”

  “Glad I caught you, then. I’ve got some news for you, some good, some bad.”

  Bad news. That jolted her. “Wait. Let me put you on speaker so Sam can hear, too.”

  “Good idea,” he said.

  She set the phone to speaker and held it between her and Sam. “Okay, go ahead.”

  “The good news is that we got a couple prints off your hotel room. Sam was right; two suspects. We’re running them through the database now. Also, we’ll be able to free up some of your belongings later today. Not all, but some things were essentially untouched.”

  “Great,” she said. “And the bad news?”

  She heard Adrian pull in a breath. “We think the girlfriend’s been kidnapped.”

  Lacey almost dropped the phone. “What? Courtney? But—”

  “I just talked to her an hour ago,” Sam said.

  “You did? She called you?”

  “Yes. She still sounded really scared, but—why do you think she’s been kidnapped?”

  “We sent a team to the location you gave us yesterday. No one home. We tried her phone; no answer to repeated calls. Finally yesterday evening, my guys met up with the friend, the owner of the house. She said Courtney never came home the night before. She wasn’t there when the friend came home from work, still not there yesterday. Lady said nothing was missing but Courtney and her phone. No sign of a break-in. Last night the friend tried to call her, but the phone was answered by a man. When she asked for Courtney, he just hung up.”