Dead Is Just a Dream - [Dead Is - 08]

by Marlene Perez

  He held out his hand to me. It was stained with paint.

  When he saw me staring at the stain, he took out a rag from his back pocket and wiped it off. “Javier Martin,” he said. “I’m the new art teacher at Nightshade High. I was just doing some touchup work on one of my babies.” He gestured to a group of princess marionettes in pastel ball gowns. They all had sparkling sapphire eyes and perfect, painted-on smiles.

  I leaned on my crutches to take his hand. “Jessica Walsh,” I said. “And this is Andy Rudolph and Raven Gray. We all go to Nightshade.”

  “Nice to meet you all,” he said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I really must be going.”

  Ms. Johns walked with him to the exit. I stared after them until Andy nudged me. “Isn’t there a painting you wanted to look at?”

  “You’re right,” I said. “I think it’s this way.”

  “It’s not here,” Andy said, after we’d gone through the exhibit again.

  “There’s probably a catalog around here somewhere,” Raven suggested. “We can double-check.”

  I spotted some brochures by the entrance and leafed through one. Every painting in the exhibit had a description and a photo.

  “This is what you wanted us to see?” Raven asked.

  “Yes, remember, Tad Collins was found just like this. Dead and his mouth full of cockroaches. It can’t be a coincidence.”

  “What about Mrs. Lincoln?” Andy asked. “If your theory is true, then there should be a painting that relates to her death, too.”

  “Good point,” I said. “I don’t remember one, but let’s look.”

  We searched the entire exhibit a third time but didn’t find a painting that matched the details of the old librarian’s death.

  Chapter Seven

  Once back home, I elevated my ankle and planned to lounge for the rest of the night.

  But then the doorbell rang.

  Daisy Giordano stood there with a plate of cookies. “Hi, Jessica,” she said. “I’ve been practicing my baking skills and we have way too many cookies left. I thought you guys might like them.”

  “We’d love some,” I said. “Come on in and tell me what you’ve been up to lately, besides baking. How’s Ryan?”

  Daisy winked at me. “He’s just fine.” When I was younger, I had a huge crush on Daisy’s boyfriend, Ryan Mendez. He was my brother’s best friend and totally gorgeous besides.

  “What kind of cookies are they?” I asked.

  “Sugar skull cookies,” she said. “I’m working on a new frosting recipe for the Day of the Dead party at the Wilders’.” The Wilder estate, with stone walls, intimidating décor, and five-star restaurant, would be the perfect place for the spooky theme party. Daisy took cooking lessons from the head chef there.

  “Sounds like it’ll be fun.”

  “The whole town is coming,” she replied. “The Nightshade City Council is sponsoring the event.”

  Daisy pried open the Tupperware lid and showed me the rows of meticulously decorated skeletons. We sat at the kitchen counter dipping the cookies into cold glasses of milk.

  “Dominic’s band is playing the party,” I said. Then I took the conversation in a darker direction. I knew that Daisy had investigated lots of unusual doings in Nightshade, so I asked, “Have you heard about the murders?”

  “I heard,” she said. “Ryan overheard Chief Wells say that Tad Collins had garnets all over his apartment.” Ryan was a police trainee.

  “Was he a geology professor?” I asked. Daisy was a student at UC Nightshade, where Tad Collins had taught.

  “No, he was an art history teacher,” she said. “But garnets are supposed to be protection against nightmares.”

  Sadly, those good luck charms hadn’t worked.

  “Did you pick up on anything on campus, psychically speaking?” I asked. “Or maybe Rose?” Daisy and her sisters, Poppy and Rose, all had psychic abilities.

  “Nothing. You?”

  I shook my head. “I saw a ghostly white horse on the beach one night, and then the next night Mrs. Lincoln was dead.”

  Daisy frowned. “I don’t know if a horse could kill her, but it probably couldn’t rob her.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Ryan told me in confidence that lots of valuables were stolen from Mrs. Lincoln’s house,” Daisy said. “Like jewelry and cash.”

  “Maybe she walked in on them and they killed her? Or they were scared off before they could finish the robbery? Though I hate to think anyone in Nightshade would be capable of that,” I said.

  Daisy took a bite of her cookie. “Who’s new in town?”

  “The owner of Phantasm Farms,” I told her. “And that guy Jensen Kenton, who has a bunch of creepy paintings on display at the library.”

  “Those paintings are supposedly worth a lot,” she said, “creepy as they are. Which is why it’s also odd that whoever killed Professor Collins didn’t steal the Kenton painting he owned.”

  I gulped. I bet I could guess which one it was. What I couldn’t guess was whether the killer had just copied the gruesome scene in the painting, or if the painting itself was somehow to blame for Tad Collins’s death.

  I took a bite of my cookie and nearly swooned. “Daisy, this frosting is amazing.”

  “Thanks,” she said. She looked at our kitchen clock. “I’ve got to get back. Chef Pierre is going to show me how to make his secret-recipe ganache next.”

  “I’ll walk you out,” I said.

  “Not with your sprained ankle,” she said.

  But the doorbell rang again. “Stay put,” she said. “I’ll answer it.”

  She came back to the kitchen with Ryan Mendez in tow. Ryan seemed to get better looking every time I saw him. His summer tan only made his green eyes look more intense. He still made my heart beat a little faster. Not as fast as Dominic did, though.

  “I was hoping to catch you here,” he said.

  “I’ll leave you two alone, then,” I said. I started to walk upstairs, but Ryan stopped me.

  “Jessica, I was talking about you.”

  The surprise on my face must have been comical, because Daisy and Ryan burst out laughing.

  “I wanted to know if you’d heard from Sean lately,” he said to me. “He isn’t answering my texts.”

  I shrugged. “I haven’t. But I’m only his sister. Have you talked to Samantha?”

  Besides being my brother’s girlfriend, Samantha Devereaux was Daisy’s best friend. When I was a freshman, my main goal had been to be as popular as Sam was in high school.

  “Samantha isn’t returning my calls either,” Ryan replied.

  “I haven’t heard from her in a few days,” Daisy said.

  “I’ll ask my parents to track Sean down,” I said.

  “Thanks, Jessica,” Ryan said. “I’m worried about him.”

  “You know Sean,” I said. “He’s probably caught up in football, or maybe even actual classes.”

  Ryan and Daisy said their goodbyes, but the conversation troubled me.

  At dinner, I decided to see if my parents had heard from Sean. Without freaking them out, of course. He was their only son. Mom would probably drive to his college in Orange County straightaway if she thought there might be anything wrong.

  “Now that you mention it,” Mom said. “I haven’t heard from Sean in days.”

  My brother might blow off his family, but he and Ryan were close. It wasn’t like him not to keep in touch.

  I sent Sean a text, but didn’t get a reply. I was starting to get worried too.

  Chapter Eight

  Since I was still out of commission because of my ankle, I didn’t have to run on Saturday, but I did have to babysit Katie while Mom and Dad did errands.

  “Jessica, I’m going to the grocery store with Kellie and Grace,” Mom said. “Do you need anything?”

  “Can you pick me up a brush and some detangler?” I asked. “It’s a present for Sanja. That mane of hers looks like she’s been using a horse b
rush on it.”

  “That’s thoughtful of you,” Mom replied. “Her mother has been dead since she was a baby. Her father mentioned he was baffled by girls. I’m sure it isn’t easy on either of them.”

  Dominic picked up Katie and me and we met Eva at Slim’s.

  She looked exhausted and immediately ordered a coffee and a large soda.

  “What’s the matter with you?” I asked as she dropped into the booth next to me.

  “Nice to see you, too,” she replied. “I think I need to cut back on the VP movies.”

  “What? You love Vincent Price.”

  “I know,” she said. “But I’ve been having weird dreams. I can barely get any sleep.”

  “What kinds of dreams?”

  “How long has this been going on?” Dominic asked.

  Eva stared at us. “Why the sudden interest in my sleeping habits?”

  “Something or someone is haunting people’s dreams,” I said. “And we’re trying to stop them. So tell us everything you can remember.”

  She shrugged. “It’s always the same dream,” she said. “It starts out calm. Beautiful, even.”

  “And then?” I asked.

  “And then I wake up screaming,” she said.

  “You don’t remember anything in between?” asked Dominic.

  She concentrated. “Not much,” she said. “I’ve been trying to forget.” She trembled. “But there is one thing. I remember hearing the sound of someone or something running. Something big.”

  “Could it have been an animal galloping?” I inquired.

  “You mean like the white horse we saw?” Eva knew the plot to every horror movie ever made, so it didn’t take her long to make the connection. “Maybe.”

  “What does Flo think about the whole night terrors thing?” Dominic asked me.

  I shrugged. “She seems preoccupied.”

  “Why do you say that?” Eva asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “She doesn’t really seem into it these days.”

  “Do you think she’ll retire?” Eva asked. Andy had told me once that Flo would retire from being a virago after getting married. Was Flo going to leave us?

  Dominic reached over and grabbed one of my fries. “Flo? Retire? That’s like saying my mom will retire.” There was a trace of bitterness in his voice.

  Tashya and her new best friend, Harmony, walked in and took a table across from us. As much as I hated to admit it, Tashya was gorgeous.

  “Perfect,” Dominic muttered.

  “When is she supposed to leave?” I asked.

  Tashya overheard me and came over. “Didn’t Dominic tell you? I’m staying.”

  “Staying?” I pushed away my food. “Since when?”

  “Your parents let you transfer schools?” Dominic asked. He looked almost as sick as I felt.

  “You know my parents travel a lot, Dom. I’m staying with Harmony for the rest of the school year.” She sashayed back to her table and she and Harmony burst into loud laughter.

  “Did you know about this?” I asked Dominic.

  “She mentioned it in English lit,” he said. “But I never thought her parents would go for it.”

  “Well, obviously, they did,” I replied. Dominic caught the edge in my voice.

  “Ignore her,” he said. “That’s what I plan to do.”

  “She’s in half your classes. Pretty hard to ignore that.”

  “Try,” he said. “For me?”

  I couldn’t resist him when he looked at me that way. “I’ll try.”

  He changed the subject. “Making any progress on the case?”

  I shook my head. “None. I don’t suppose you’ve come across any clues as songs?”

  “Sorry, I’ve been sticking to the set list lately.”

  Eva’s tired eyes widened. I looked up and saw the last person I expected to see walking through the door of Slim’s.

  “Sean!” Katie screeched, and got up to hug our big brother.

  “Sean, what are you doing home?” Eva asked. “Not that we aren’t glad to see you.”

  “You look awful,” I said. “What happened?” My brother’s eyes were red-rimmed and weary and his clothes looked like he’d been wearing them for a couple of days at least.

  “Sam’s in the hospital,” he said. “Unconscious. I just took a break to come by to tell you.”

  Eva gasped. “Is she going to be okay?”

  “They don’t know,” Sean said.

  “What can we do to help?” I asked.

  “I honestly don’t know,” he said. My big bad brother looked like he was about to cry.

  While everyone crowded around him for details, Katie stood apart. Tears rolled down her face. Katie loved Samantha, maybe even more than she loved Dominic.

  I kneeled down beside her. “Samantha is going to be okay,” I said.

  Katie crossed her arms. “How do you know? You’re not psychic.”

  “No, I’m not,” I admitted. “But I know someone who is. We’ll go find Daisy.” The beginning of an idea was stirring in my brain.

  “Can you go without me?” Sean asked. “I want to get back to the hospital.”

  “Of course.” I reached in for a brief hug, but he hugged me back hard.

  Dominic dropped off Katie and me at home. “Sorry, but I’ve got to leave for a gig,” he said. “I’ll be in San Francisco overnight, but call me tomorrow and let me know how Sam is.”

  I gave him a goodbye kiss and then hobbled over to the Giordano house.

  Daisy was home and I told her the news about Sam. “Why didn’t Sean call us?” she asked.

  “He didn’t call anyone,” I told her. “He’s completely freaked out.”

  “I’m going to the hospital right now,” she said. “Want to come along?”

  I nodded. “In fact, I have this crazy idea.”

  When Daisy heard what I was thinking, she made me think my idea might not be so crazy after all.

  “Sean said the doctors have no idea how it happened,” I explained.

  “But you do?” Daisy guessed.

  “I think it has something to do with nightmares,” I said. “And the murders. I think someone is sending nightmares to do their dirty work. People are dying of fear.”

  “How can I help?”

  “I don’t want you to do anything risky,” I said. “But I think maybe if you could make a psychic connection with Samantha, you could figure out exactly what happened.”

  “I’ll try,” Daisy promised.

  “And I’ll be there, just in case anything goes wrong.”

  She smiled. “What could go wrong as long as a virago has my back?”

  When we got to the hospital, Sam’s room was empty of visitors.

  “Her mom didn’t even bother to show up,” Daisy said angrily.

  I motioned to a huge floral arrangement. “It looks like she sent flowers.”

  “Samantha hates roses,” she retorted. “She thinks they’re pedestrian.”

  She noticed my startled look. “Sorry, I wasn’t snapping at you.”

  “I know,” I replied. “I’m just here and Sam’s mom isn’t.”

  Daisy stared down at her friend. “No wonder Sean was so upset,” she said. Sam’s hair was like straw, and it stuck out all over her head. She shuddered in her sleep.

  I reached over and smoothed a strand away from her face. “I’m going to find out who did this to her.”

  Daisy took Sam’s hand and murmured, “Here goes nothing.” And that’s the last thing she said for several minutes.

  I was afraid to look away.

  Samantha’s prone form began to thrash, and Daisy’s grip tightened.

  I watched; every muscle in my body tensed. Then Samantha’s body stopped moving and went still, her mouth open in a soundless scream.

  Daisy let out a high-pitched wail. I yanked on her arm, but she didn’t let go of Sam’s hand. I tried again, and Daisy finally broke free and then collapsed on the floor, gasping.

&nbs
p; I helped Daisy to her feet. Her blue eyes were wide and she was shaking.

  “Are you okay?” I asked. “Here, sit down and have a drink of water.”

  After she had a few minutes to recover, I asked, “Did you find anything out?”

  “Screaming,” she said. “Over and over. All I heard was the sound of Samantha screaming.”

  “Did you notice anything else?”

  “Give me a minute,” she said. She started to shake again.

  I grabbed an extra blanket at the foot of the bed and draped it over her.

  “Thanks,” she said. “Jessica, there was someone else there with us. Someone Sam was deathly afraid of.”

  “Did you get a good look?”

  She shook her head. “It was just a shadowy figure. It was big, though.”

  “Did you see anything else?”

  “No,” she said.

  “Do you feel up to trying again in a few days?”

  She nodded. “In the meantime, we should try to find out where Sam went, who she talked to right before this happened.”

  Sean came into the room as we were leaving, holding a teddy bear that said “Get Well Soon.” “Any change?”

  He didn’t seem to notice Daisy at first. I nudged him. “Daisy was trying to make contact with Sam psychically,” I explained.

  “Hi, Daisy,” he said, finally noticing his friend.

  She gave him a hug.

  “She’s still not conscious,” Sean said. “What are we going to do?”

  “We’re working on it,” Daisy said. “Jessica and I are going to find out what happened to her, I promise.”

  He sat next to Samantha and picked up her hand. “I hope so.”

  “We need to find out what she was doing before she fell into this trance, or whatever it is,” I said. “I know you two talked or texted every day. Was anything out of the ordinary going on with her?”

  “It’s the beginning of the quarter,” he said. “She has new classes.”

  “What kind of classes?” I asked.

  “The usual. She did mention an art class, though.”

  “Do you know the name of the professor?”

  There was a long pause while he thought about it. “He’s young, for a professor, and really into surrealism. At least that’s what Sam said.”