He looked a little skeptical, “In your dream I told you that I wouldn’t know you?”
“The first time I had it, when I woke up I thought it was the strangest dream ever. I was so surprised by the clarity of it that I was embarrassed to share it with anyone. It was so vivid, it felt more like we had been two people talking all night long than it did any outrageous fantasy. Then I kept having it, night after night, since I was in high school. If that isn’t bad enough, that lady Rewsna I told you about? She knew all about my dream, even though I’ve never told anyone, ever.”
Max hesitated as if he didn’t want to offend me, then quietly asked, “So we’re supposed to be together to accomplish what?”
“I wish I knew. You told me that my courage would bring me to you; that was how we were going to meet. So when I saw you in the restaurant that night everything clicked. I knew why I knew the robber was dangerous before he ever got to the counter. I knew the bullet was meant for me before he ever pulled the trigger.”
“I’m not sure what you want me to do about this? Coming from anyone else I would think it a little far-fetched, but…”
“But what? Do you know something?”
He shook his head, “Not the way you’re talking about it. But I can feel an energy when I’m near you. The night in the hospital when I first kissed you, I felt like a jolt of electricity came from you into me. I can’t describe it, but I knew there was something about you that wasn’t like anyone else. What else happened in the dream?”
He’s actually asking; maybe if I just tell him the words he’ll know what they mean. “You said something about Empathy, Trust, Virtue and….Passion.”
“What? What did I say about them?” These words meant no more to him than the definitions from a dictionary. His confusion was understandable. I remember the dream, and I’m just as confused.
“You told me courage would bring me to you. Not typical courage like reciting a report in front of a class, but real courage. When the thing happened at the restaurant, I wasn’t trying to be courageous, it just happened. Then when I saw you in the ambulance, I nearly panicked, not because I felt I was in any real danger, but because it was clear my dream was coming true. You held my hand in the ambulance, and it was too much, my body felt like it was out of control. I know that you think it was from all the blood I lost, but I was fine until you touched me: my heart was trying to tell me who you were. When I woke up the next day, I thought the whole thing must have been my imagination, but then you came to my room, and . . . and I knew that it really did happen, and my dream was really coming true.”
I knew how irrational this sounded, and I wondered what he must be thinking. After a few seconds of silence, he asked, “So empathy, trust, virtue and passion: you don’t have any idea what that is about?”
“You told me that I had to be courageous on my own, but that you would help me with the other four.”
A wicked smile flashed, “I’ve got to tell you that I don’t expect passion to be too difficult with you, and I am happy to oblige.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at him. Here I was basically telling him that I was completely off the deep end, and he was making a joke. “I wouldn’t tell you any of this at all, except you told me that you wouldn’t remember any of this when we met in person, and it was my job to make you remember. Then when I met Rewsna, she told me the same thing. Believe me, I know exactly how crazy this all sounds, but in my dream you were so insistent, and you were the one with all the answers.”
“Okay, I believe you. Whatever passion thing you dreamt about, I’ve got some ideas in that area.” He pressed his body against me while his tongue made its way up my neck. I responded by pressing hard against him as my lips found his mouth and crushed hard against his. Our kissed deepened as a moan escaped him.
Max ever so gently eased away from me. When I opened my eyes, he looked down into them with his amazing speckled green eyes. Uncertain why he had moved from me, I asked, “Did I do something wrong?”
“Lauren, no - you haven’t done anything wrong. I think we’d better slow down before we start doing everything right.” The restraint in his body was evident, with every muscle in his arm rigid and bulging.
I was naïve, more so than I wanted to be. I didn’t have skills in seduction. My only experience had been hearing stories from my girlfriends and watching hundreds of movies. I didn’t want this moment to end and definitely wanted the fire within me to continue to burn. I whispered, “It’s okay, I really want this.”
Max looked torn, “This is too soon. No matter how bad I want it to happen, I don’t want it to happen now.”
“Max, I’ve been dreaming of you for so long. I don’t want us to stop.”
“Lauren, it isn’t the right time. I really need to get you home.” This time Max let go of me completely and rolled away.
Panic intertwined with rejection, in a near whisper but loud enough for him to hear, “Max, don’t go. If you don’t want me, I won’t push it, but don’t go yet.”
“Don’t want you? Lauren, I’ve never wanted anything in my whole life the way I want to be with you right now.”
Max eased back over to me and slid his body to mine. He was shaking, his hands moved to my face, “You don’t get it. I love you. I’ll be with you until my last breath. Can you blame me for wanting to savor you a little?” He pulled me in close and began caressing me gently from my shoulder to my hips, he whispered how much he loved me while I felt his heat against me. His words of loved acted as a lullaby and without meaning to, I fell gently to sleep in his arms.
Chapter Twenty-four
I woke up with a start at about eight p.m., I turned around to see Max, and to my surprise he was wide awake.
“Aren’t you supposed to be working right now?”
“I texted one of the off-going guys and asked him to cover me for a couple hours, but I do need to get to work.” The whole day felt like a dream I didn’t want to wake up from. The ride home with Max was euphoric, as we sat together sharing more easy conversation. Before I realized it, we were parked outside my house. Reluctantly we said our goodbyes for the evening, and I floated over the sidewalk and up to the front porch.
I looked at my watch, and it was just after nine on Friday. I walked over to Seth’s garage and peeked in the window - his car was gone. So much for checking in to see how he and Amanda were getting along.
I debated whether to go into my house or not. I grabbed my cell phone and decided to call Paul to see how his night was going.
Paul said, “Seth and Rachael went out to get your graduation present. I was thinking of going out for a coffee. Do you want to go with me?”
I definitely didn’t want to hang out with my parents on a Friday night. Who knew when Rachael or Seth would be back, and Max would be working all night. Coffee and conversation sounded pretty good right now. “Sure, if you don’t mind picking me up?”
Ten minutes later Paul’s car pulled up in front of my house. He told me about his day and helping his grandmother in the yard. He seemed to be paying an awful lot of attention to his rear view mirror as we drove.
I finally asked, “Is everything all right?”
“I keep seeing a gray sedan, like we’re being followed.”
This didn’t make any sense: if he was now cooperating with the police, had given a full statement, provided an alibi, why would they be following him now? It couldn’t be that they didn’t believe him? I couldn’t help but be obvious when I angled myself so I could get a better view of the sedan behind us through the passenger side mirror. What possible reason could the police have for following him? He was out on bail. They could search him anytime they wanted.
Scenarios started playing through my head: a rogue detective who didn’t believe Paul’s statement, a rookie cop who was trying to make a name for himself, someone personally connected with the victims using his authority to influence the investigation. I’d seen all these scenarios on television and in movies, but somethin
g kept making me angle and re-angle the mirror to try to get a better look at the driver. As I was adjusting the angle, the car eased back, from about four car lengths back to a city block. I saw its turn signal before it disappeared around a corner.
“Holy crap, Paul! Are you trying to make me a nervous wreck? The car just turned. We weren’t being followed.”
Paul made a right hand turn into an alley, driving to the back of the alley where there was a small parking lot big enough for maybe six cars. He looped around the lot so he was able to drive the car into a dark shadow and cut the lights. From fifteen feet we were nearly invisible, but we could see the lighted street clearly. “Sorry, Lauren, I just feel like…”
I cut him off, “Like you’re going stir crazy, like you’ve been watching too much TV? Maybe your mind is playing tricks on you, you know? I get that this has been a hard week on you, and I don’t blame you a bit for going a little schitzo, but how long are we going to sit in this alley?”
“If it was a cop, he would have flashed his lights for me to pull over. But if for some reason,” he stopped in mid sentence. Slowly a gray sedan eased past the alley. The occupant was looking down the alley right in our direction – as soon as I was starting to believe he had found us his head swung abruptly to the left as he peered down a dark alley on the opposite side of the street. My heart leapt - The way it did only when Max was within a few yards of me, then began racing so fast it felt like it was going to pump clean out of my chest.
In a very calm authoritative voice, one I didn’t even know I was capable of, “When he clears the alleyway, slowly drive forward. Don’t turn your lights on until right before we’re on the street. Stay on the main street. See if you can get close enough to him to read his license plate.”
Paul nodded in agreement, but I could see the color had completely faded from his complexion. In my mind I called to my voice of reason and screamed, “Rewsna – what should we do?” To my frustration I heard nothing in return. I picked up my cell phone as we approached the mouth of the alleyway, the sedan nowhere to be seen. The entire street was empty except for a couple walking hand-in-hand toward us. I dialed Officer Johnson’s number, but it went straight to voicemail. I hung up without leaving a message. I concentrated as hard as I could and, in my mind, asked as clearly as I could, “Rewsna, what should we do?” Nothing, no advice, no whisper, no feeling at all that she was even following this turn of events.
“I’m going to take you home.”
My heart was still racing, and it was moving so fast I was in danger of hyperventilating. I managed to stutter out, “No, we don’t know who this is. Go to the police station.” Paul turned in that direction, and when he made his left turn the same gray sedan was again behind us, but this time following very close. I grabbed my cell phone and tried Officer Johnson a second time, but it went directly to voicemail again.
The car began to overtake us on the left side, the driver rolled down his passenger side window and ordered, “Pull over, now!” He put a blue light on top of his car – the kind detectives use that are held on by magnets.
But every unmarked car I had ever seen had lights built into the car’s grill. When Paul began to pull the car over, I nearly came unglued, “No, go to the police station, now!”
“I can’t, I’m out on bail – if a cop wants to pull me over and I don’t comply, I go straight back to jail.”
Paul pulled the car over on the nearly deserted street, the couple I had seen just a minute ago nowhere in sight. A man was refilling a metal newspaper box halfway down the street, but he had his back to us. Paul put the car in park and reached for the ignition, I reached across and put my hand over the keys. Quietly, but with authority in my voice, “Do not shut the car off, put it back in drive. Roll your window up so it’s only open far enough to talk through. Do not get out of the car, and do not shut your engine off until you see his ID.”
The policeman walked up to the driver’s side and motioned with his hand for Paul to roll the window down. In as polite a voice as I had ever heard Paul use, “I’m sorry Officer, could I see some identification?”
The policeman pointed at the gray sedan directly behind us with the single flashing blue light on top, in a condescending tone, “That son, is my identification, now roll your window down.”
Paul reached for the power window, but I grabbed his elbow and as quietly as possible warned, “A photo ID, Paul.”
Paul looked back at the policeman and nervously squeaked out, “I’m sorry sir, I’m not trying to be belligerent, but I would really like to see a photo identification.”
The policeman stood there for a few seconds staring through the nearly closed window. In an instant I saw him reach his left hand from behind his back. He had pulled the trigger twice before I even realized he was holding a gun. On sheer instinct I grabbed the gear shifter and yanked it into the drive position, reached my left foot over to the driver’s side and punched the gas. Smoke rolled from the tires as we were barreling down the street with me driving from the passenger side. I didn’t look at Paul but could hear a soft gurgling sound as he breathed. I didn’t look behind us to see if he was in pursuit. I fumbled for my phone and was able to dial 911.
“911 Dispatch, what’s your emergency?”
“My friend’s been shot - what should I do?”
“What’s your location, ma’am?”
For the first time I looked at Paul, as I was driving from the passenger side and balancing the cell on my ear. “I’m not sure, some guy said he was a cop and pulled out a gun and shot him. There’s blood everywhere!”
“Ma’am, I need you to remain calm. Is he breathing?”
I could hear heavier gurgling as he struggled to take in air. “Yes, but it sounds like he has blood in his lungs or something.”
“What’s your location?”
“I don’t know, I’m driving: 23rd Street, I think. I’m not sure.”
The dispatcher told me, “Ma’am, pull the car over at the next intersection and tell me where you are.”
I did as I was told, looking in all directions for any sign of the grey sedan, “I’m on the corner of 23rd and King.”
“Ma’am, what’s your name?”
“Lauren, Lauren Davis…What should I do?”
“Lauren, you need to stop the bleeding. Find where he was shot, use a jacket or a shirt and apply pressure to get the bleeding to stop.”
“I can’t find where he was shot. There’s blood everywhere. It’s coming out of his mouth. It’s all over his neck. I can’t find the bullet hole!”
“Lauren, calm down. You can’t help him if you aren’t calm. Take a deep breath. Help is on the way, but I need you to try to find where all the blood is coming from and get it to stop. Can you do that for me, Lauren?”
In my mind I could hear, “Relax, Lauren, calm yourself.” I took a deep breath and without moving him began to scan every inch of him, beginning with his head, neck, shoulders, then as if the hole could not have been more clear, I could see it. It was huge. “I, I…found the bullet hole, it’s in his chest. Blood is pouring out of it.”
The dispatcher asked, “Okay, good job. You need to apply pressure to the wound, to stop the bleeding. Are you applying pressure?”
I found a wadded up gym towel on the floor in the back seat and pressed it to his chest. “Yes, I’m applying pressure. He isn’t breathing.” I could hear Rewsna clearly through my thoughts. “Remain calm, pay attention to your surroundings.” I looked in all directions while I had both hands holding a towel against Paul’s chest. I didn’t see the gray sedan. I started blaring the car horn with my free hand trying to get someone’s attention.
Paul reached out and grabbed my arm with one of his hands. “Not a cop. Ms. McMasters’ barter…” He took two deep breaths and released. His entire body went limp in that second. I held the towel to his chest but knew there was no reason to. Paul had died right there in front of me.
I heard sirens before I could see anything.
I sat there with my back to the windshield, facing Paul’s body, still holding the towel. I was getting tunnel vision as if I were getting ready to pass out. I knew I needed to focus. I couldn’t black out. I needed to wait for help. My body felt so heavy, then I heard Rewsna in my head, “Pay attention to your surroundings: what do you see? Now! Child, look around you.” I willed myself back to reality. My back was still to the windshield, but I took a long look around me. There was no gray sedan in any direction.
I blared the car horn another seven long bursts. I saw someone approaching the car, wearing sweatpants and a too-large t-shirt. He wore something on his head. As he approached, his pace sped up the last twenty feet when he realized that my blasts were for help. On the other side of the street, another man was watching me but made no movement to provide assistance. He was watching, holding his position.
I couldn’t tell how tall he was from that distance, but he was standing next to a parking meter. He seemed relatively short because the top of the meter was even with his chest. His hair was dark. He was wearing dress slacks with a sweatshirt, an odd combination. The first man who had come to assist was asking me questions that I didn’t respond to. I could hear a siren drawing closer.
I lost focus on the man across the street long enough to look at the man who had trotted over to help and was leaning in through the driver’s side door. He asked, “Miss, are you okay?” I nodded numbly but looked back to where the observer had been standing and saw that he was now walking into an apartment building with his back to the street.
An ambulance arrived. When I saw it pull up, I felt a huge sense of relief knowing Max would be here to tell me everything would be all right. Paul sat motionless on the seat beside me. I heard a lot of shouting, but I couldn’t make sense of the words. I kept searching the faces looking from one to another but couldn’t find Max. Where was Max? I felt a hand hold my wrist and remove it from Paul’s chest. I heard a voice talking to me but still couldn’t make out the words.
Meeting Destiny (Destiny Series) Page 24
