Dreamer (The Seeker Series Book 2)

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Dreamer (The Seeker Series Book 2) Page 8

by Amy Reece


  ***

  We were standing around in the quad at school the next morning, chatting before first period, and I was trying to pull Tara aside for a minute so I could arrange an after school get-together to tell her about my late-night revelations regarding my nightmares.

  “Ah, bonjour mes amis,” Rémy approached our group and began kissing everyone on both cheeks, like I had seen in movies. The rest of my friends seemed to be eating it up, especially Dustin. I could definitely see him trying to bring it into fashion here. Was I the only one who saw how ridiculous and cheesy this guy was?

  When he came to me, I raised my eyebrows and gave him a look which clearly said ‘hell, no.’ He flashed his damn smirk and winked at me.

  Jack arrived and elbowed Rémy out of the way. “Dude, do not try to kiss my girlfriend. I will have to hurt you.” He pulled me to him for a rare public kiss.

  Although I always enjoy his kisses, this one annoyed me slightly because I felt like he was marking his territory more than he wanted to kiss me. It annoyed me even more that Rémy seemed amused by it.

  “Jack, do not be upset.” Rémy laughed. “I mean nothing by it. This is how we greet one another in France.”

  “Yeah, well we’re not in France, Rémy,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “In America, we shake hands.”

  “Ah, but the exquisite Ally does not seem to want me to touch her at all. I wonder why?” he mused. “You have nothing to fear from me, chérie.”

  Yeah, right, I thought. I rolled my eyes at both Jack and Rémy. I pulled Tara aside. “Hey, can you come over after school? I really need to talk to you about something,” I whispered.

  “Sure. Is everything okay?” She looked across at Jack.

  “Yeah. It’s not about him. It’s something else.” I didn’t want to go into any of it here. She seemed to get the message and nodded.

  ***

  At lunch Jack was moody and distant, finally packing up his trash, saying, “I’ll see you in English, okay? I need to go to the library.”

  “Do you want me to go with you?” I asked, concerned. He wasn’t himself today.

  “No.” He shook his head. “I’m not good company right now. Sorry.” He walked away, leaving me to stare after him.

  Rémy plopped down next to me. “He is still angry with me, chérie?”

  I sighed. “No. I don’t think it’s you, Rémy. He’s going through some stuff right now.”

  “Well, he shouldn’t leave a beautiful woman alone. I certainly never would.”

  “No, I’m sure you wouldn’t. What do you want, Rémy?”

  “Me? I do not want anything, chérie, except to be your friend,” he said, shrugging.

  “Really?” I asked sarcastically. He smirked. “Well, if you really want to be my friend, you need to stop pissing off the guy I’m in love with.”

  “Love,” he scoffed. “You Americans don’t know anything about love. I could show you…”

  “And for God’s sake, stop coming on to me in your smarmy French way. My name is Ally, not chérie!” I was completely out of patience with him. “I thought you were into Tara?”

  “Ah, there are so many beautiful girls here. How can I decide?” He laughed.

  “Yeah, I can see what a huge burden it is for you.” The bell rang and I gladly got up, gathering my trash. I noticed Rémy quietly took Veronica’s, giving her a sweet smile so different from the stupid smirk I was usually favored with. Just when I wanted to hate him, he goes and does something nice for one of my friends. I couldn’t figure him out.

  ***

  “So, what’s up with Jack?” Tara was sitting on my bed, using my laptop to research Ashley Hayes. “He was really pissy today. Are you guys fighting?”

  “No.” I threw myself down beside her on the bed. “His dad showed up yesterday. He’s moving here to Albuquerque and wants to spend time with Jack and Megan.”

  “Wow.” She stopped and looked at me. “Jack’s not handling it very well? He wasn’t happy to see his dad?”

  “Not really. His dad left Jack and Megan to deal with their mom’s death all alone. He turned into a depressed drunk. That’s when Jack started getting into trouble. I don’t know if he’s going to be able to forgive him.”

  “That sucks. I feel bad for him.” We were both quiet for several minutes as she researched. I hadn’t told her anything yet except I needed her to help me research the case my mom’s boyfriend was investigating. “All right, here’s what the APD website says about the Ashley Hayes cold case: 18 year old Ashley Hayes disappeared from Oso Grande High School on Tuesday, January 17, 1984. She was seen leaving the campus, but never arrived home. She was never heard from again and no body was ever found. Police suspected she was a runaway, but her family and friends maintain she was happy and would never leave home voluntarily. Listen to this: Ashley was pregnant at the time of her disappearance.”

  I sat up and looked over her shoulder at the screen. “Does it say anything about her family? Any names or anything?”

  “Um, let’s see…her mother is mentioned somewhere. Yeah, here it is: Angela Hayes is her name. Why?”

  “Can you find an online white pages or something? I want to see if we can find out where she lives.”

  Tara clicked away to another site. “There are four Angela Hayes in Albuquerque. Are you going to try to call her or something?”

  I again ignored her question. “How many in the 87110 zip code?”

  “Just one, on Utah St., NE. Ally, answer me,” she demanded. “Why do you want to know? This is more than idle curiosity, isn’t it?”

  It was time to fill her in. I knew I could rely on her to help me sort through things rationally. “I think you were right, Tara. I think these nightmares are psychic. Last night, I saw Ashley’s face in the dream and she called out to me for help. I think I’m supposed to help her. Either that or I’ve completely lost my mind.”

  “Okay, tell me everything. I’ll be the judge of whether this is psychic or insanity. Honestly, I’m pulling for insanity because the last time you tried to help someone it nearly got you killed.”

  I winced; she was right about that. Then I rehashed the whole thing for her: the nightmares starting the night I began reading Ashley’s book, Brian telling us he was lead detective on the murder investigation, Ashley’s face in the reflection of the kidnapper’s sunglasses, and finally, Ashley crying out to me inside my head to help her. I told her how I was confused in the nightmare about whether it was me being kidnapped or Ashley and how I knew she was pregnant. I told her about crying for someone named Scott. I had told her before briefly about the nightmares, but certainly hadn’t gone into any great detail.

  “Holy shit, Ally! Where have I been? I didn’t know any of this! Why didn’t you tell me?” Tara stood and stared down at me sitting on the bed.

  “I’m sorry! Don’t be mad. I didn’t want to talk about it with anyone. I thought the nightmares were because I was still stressed out. I didn’t put any of this together until last night. You’re the first one I’ve told.” I looked up at her with pleading eyes.

  “So, you haven’t told Jack any of this?” I shook my head. “Well, fine then. So, what do you want to do?”

  “I want to go talk to her mother. It sounds like she never moved; her house is close to the school.”

  “And exactly what are you going to say to her mother? ‘Hi, I’m Ally. I’m a psychic who is having nightmares about your daughter getting kidnapped?’ That’s gonna go over real well.”

  “No. I’m going to say, ‘Hi, I’m Ally. I have your daughter’s book.’ I think it will get me a short conversation at least.”

  “For what purpose? Ally, she’s dead. They found the body. The police will try to find the killer. What can you do?”

  “I don’t know, Tara. All I know is she asked for my help. I have to try.”

  “Can’t you talk to your mom’s new boyfriend? You can tell him…”

  I looked at her, eyebrows raised when she le
t the sentence fall. “Yeah, what exactly could I tell him? ‘Hey, Brian. So, I’ve been having some pretty freaky psychic nightmares about one of your murder investigations.’ I really don’t think my mom is ready for him to know about our little family gift. It would scare him off for sure.”

  She laughed, “Yeah, probably. So, she really likes this guy, huh?”

  “Did I tell you I caught them making out in the kitchen? He had his tongue in her mouth and his hands all over her ass. I never wanted to see something like that. I wanted to scrub my eyeballs. And Jack just laughed and said, ‘way to go, Brian.’ Ugh!”

  “Typical guy response. At least you didn’t walk in on them having sex,” she said.

  “Thanks for the visual. I was really trying not to go there.”

  She laughed. “Okay, back to the topic at hand. So, you are going to start your own little investigation of Ashley Hayes? Well, I’ll help you with my mad research skills and I won’t rat you out on one condition: I go with you to talk to her mother.” She stood and looked at me, hands on hips, a no-nonsense look on her face.

  “Fine. I didn’t really want to go by myself, anyway,” I said, relieved.

  “Are you going to fill Jack in on all of this? He’s going to freak if he finds out later.”

  “Not yet. He’s got a lot to deal with right now. It probably won’t go anywhere, so I’ll wait a while before I add this to his plate. Come on. Let’s go find her house now, before I can talk myself out of it.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Striving to better, oft we mar what’s well.”

  –Shakespeare –King Lear (1.4.346)

  Tara drove because I was too nervous. For all my big talk, I didn’t have any confidence I could pull this off, and was truly expecting to have a door slammed in my face shortly. We found the house easily, thanks to Google Maps, and I grabbed Ashley’s book and headed up the walk, feeling a little bit like I was selling Girl Scout cookies. Or salvation.

  An elderly woman answered when Tara rang the doorbell. “Yes, may I help you?” she asked.

  “Mrs. Hayes?” I asked. “Are you Ashley Hayes’ mother?”

  “Yes,” she sounded cautious and confused. “Who are you?”

  “Ma’am, my name is Ally Moran. This is Tara Scott. We go to Oso Grande High School, like Ashley did. I, um, I think I have a book that belonged to her and I thought you might want it back.” I produced the book and offered it to her. She took it from my hands hesitantly. “Here,” I gently opened it to the inside cover and showed her the inscription and bookplate.

  “Oh,” she breathed, running her fingers over the words. “I remember giving her this for Christmas. But how on earth did you get it?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrugged. “I took it from a shelf in my English class. When I heard on the news Ashley had been found, I—well, I thought you should have it back.”

  She ran her fingers over the words for a moment more, tears threatening to overrun her eyes, before closing the book, sniffing, and saying, “Thank you. This means more than you know. Would you girls like to come in for a few minutes? I would like to hear more about how you got this.” I looked at Tara and nodded. We followed Mrs. Hayes inside. She led us into her kitchen, saying, “Let me make some tea or coffee or something. Maybe I have some hot chocolate around here.”

  “Tea is fine, thanks,” I said as we sat down at her kitchen table. She busied herself heating water and pulling mugs and teabags out of cabinets. Tara and I kept quiet as she worked; it appeared she was trying to pull her emotions together.

  “So,” she said, setting a mug of steaming tea in front of each of us. “Tell me more about how you found Ashley’s book.”

  “Well, I saw it on the shelf at school in my English class and thought the title sounded poetic. I took it before Christmas, to read on a trip I was taking over the holidays.”

  “I wonder why it’s still there after thirty years?” she mused. “Her English teacher that last year was Mrs. Gordon. She couldn’t still be there, could she?”

  “No, I don’t think so. My teacher’s name is Ms. Gonzalez. Maybe Mrs. Gordon left her books when she retired?”

  Mrs. Hayes nodded. “Maybe. Ashley loved this book, loved all of Madeleine L’Engle’s books. Did you read it?”

  “Yes. It was a really great book. It was sad, but beautiful. It kind of helped me with some stuff I was going through.” I looked into her face and we shared a small smile, like there was something we had in common now, something in common with Ashley.

  “One of the last things I remember talking about with Ashley was how she was going to loan this book to Mrs. Gordon. She loved to talk about books with anyone who would sit still long enough. She was planning to go to the university to study English. She wanted to be a teacher.” She seemed inclined to reminisce, which is what I had hoped, so Tara and I sipped our tea and let her talk. “I knew she didn’t run away. I told the police, all those years ago, something bad had happened to her. They said she must have been upset and scared because of the pregnancy and so she ran away. But they didn’t understand how it was. She was so happy, both she and Scott. Oh, I know we were all a bit shocked when we found out she was pregnant, but not really, you know. Those two were so in love, it didn’t surprise me terribly to find out a baby was on the way. I guess that’s not the way a mother should feel about her teenage daughter, but she was eighteen. Scott wanted marry her right away, but she wanted to wait until after graduation. He insisted she was still going to college and they would work it out. He was so good to her. It destroyed him when she disappeared. The police questioned him endlessly. They suspected he had done something to her, but they could never find any evidence. I knew she was dead, but I couldn’t move away, just in case. I needed her to be able to find me, just in case.” She faded out at the end and picked up her mug, her hands shaking so much I thought tea would slop out. I had figured Scott was the name of her boyfriend; now I needed to find out his last name.

  “Do you think it could have been Scott? Now that they’ve found her…” I almost said ‘body,’ but realized at the last second it was insensitive.

  She set her mug down, hard. “Absolutely not. It’s the one thing in all of this I’m sure of. That sweet boy did not hurt Ashley. He loved her,” she said with finality.

  I sensed this was the end of her sharing, so I finished my tea and stood up. “Thanks for the tea, Mrs. Hayes. We need to go. I thought you should have Ashley’s book.”

  She surprised me by pulling me into a hug. “Bless you, dear, for bringing this to me. It’s a bright spot in the middle of all this mess.”

  We left her waving at us as we drove away. “Tara,” I said, “I need you to find out Scott’s last name and where he is now. I need to talk to him.” She nodded in resignation.

  “Fine. But remember our deal: no investigating without me. Your research source dries up if I find out you’re lone-wolfing it, baby.”

  “Deal.” I chuckled.

  ***

  Tara had to go home, but promised she would start looking online to find out the last name of Ashley’s boyfriend and where he was now. Meanwhile, I had other issues claiming my time: Cassie had returned from Ireland and wanted to meet to continue our training. She was eager to keep pushing me to find out whether or not I was the Oracle. Yikes. I had managed to push the word out of my head for a few brief weeks, but now it came clamoring back. I was scheduled to see her in her downtown office the next afternoon. The only good thing, psychically speaking, was the nightmares had stopped ever since I gave Ashley’s book back to her mother. At least I was getting some sleep.

  Unfortunately, I had plenty of opportunities for meeting with Cassie since Jack wasn’t taking up much of my time. We saw each other at school, where he continued to be somewhat withdrawn and moody, but he maintained near radio silence in the afternoons and evenings. My texts were answered with curt replies, which did not encourage a return text. I tried not to let it hurt my feelings; I knew he was going throug
h hell right now. But I wanted so much to help him or maybe simply hold him. He seemed to want to handle it on his own. I knew this wasn’t right. This wasn’t how couples that loved each other should act, but I didn’t know how to reach him. It was forcing me to do some serious soul-searching in regard to our relationship. I needed someone to talk to, but my list of friends and relatives with the right kind of experience was pretty short. In fact, there was only one name on the list: Adele Moran. Grams. She was the only one I knew well enough to talk to who had a successful, long-term relationship in her past. It was a testimony to my level of desperation that I was willing to talk to my grandmother about my relationship with my boyfriend.

  After finishing up some homework for physics and Spanish—I really could have used Jack’s help on both—I decided to see if my grandmother was available for some girl talk. I finally hunted her down in the kitchen, where she was sitting at the table, going over some case files. “Hey, Grams. Do you have a few minutes?” My mom was out with Brian, so this seemed like a good time for an uninterrupted conversation.

  “Of course, Ally.” She pushed her reading glasses to the top of her head and cleared a space at the table for me. “What, no Jack tonight? I can hardly believe it.”

  “No.” I flopped down in the chair across from her. “He’s meeting with his dad tonight.”

  She smiled at me sympathetically. “Well, your mother is out with Brian, so it’s a perfect time for us to catch up. I feel like we haven’t had a chance to talk lately.”

 

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