Dying Forever (Waking Forever Book 3)

by Heather McVea

  Bryce blinked, and smiling, turned toward her classmate. “Yes, here I am.”

  “Still up for a drink?” Sylvia opened a locker three down from Alison’s and removed a towel and shower caddy.

  “I just need to shower.” Bryce glanced at Alison who stood mute next to her. “Would you like to come with us?”

  Feeling more like herself, Alison shook her head. “No. It’s late, and I have an early class.” She pulled the combination lock open and removed her clothes from the locker. “See you around.” Walking toward the changing rooms, Alison could feel Bryce’s eyes on her, and her cheeks reddened.

  Pulling the drape closed as she entered the changing room, Alison shook her jeans out and heard a metallic ping as something flew from one of the pockets. Bending down, she scanned the floor, and fell to her knees when she saw a small, black stone lying in the corner.

  ***

  Had it not been for a friendly text message earlier that afternoon, Alison would have forgotten about her dinner with Tom Hutchinson. Now she was pulling into the gravel parking lot of Two Brothers Barbecue Market nearly ten minutes late.

  It had been four days since the incident at the aquatic center. Alison had not told anyone about the strange interaction with Christine, or the woman’s ability to seemingly appear and disappear at will. She had, though, taken the black stone to Dr. Benjamin Hinojosa. She had met Ben at a faculty mixer over a year ago. Given his background in analytical chemistry, Alison had hoped he might shed some light on what the rock was.

  “Where did you get this?” The 5’8”, middle aged, Hispanic man held the warm, black stone between his thumb and forefinger.

  “My parents live near Canyon Lake. I was hiking, and there it was.” Alison thought it best to avoid the truth for fear her colleague would think she was crazy.

  Looking over the top of his wire framed glasses, Ben frowned. “This was near a lake?”

  Alison felt heat rise to her face. She was a terrible liar, and worried Ben was seeing right through the tall tale. “Yeah.”

  Shrugging, the man laid the rock down on his desk. “So what do you want to know about it?”

  Alison exhaled, relieved that for now her lie was holding. “It feels warm to me, and I don’t know anything about rocks or chemical make-ups or -” Get to the point, Alison. “Can you tell me what kind of rock it is?”

  Ben leaned back in his overstuffed leather office chair and nodded. “It will take some time. Besides, what does it matter?”

  Sensing the professor’s hesitancy, Alison smiled and leaned forward in her chair. Resting her elbows on Ben’s desk, she lowered her voice. “Weren’t you the one who told me at last year’s holiday party that people should be more interested in the world around them? Question and observe.”

  At that same holiday party Lydia had informed her, after several rum and cokes, that Ben had a terrible crush on Alison. Though she always thought Lydia exaggerated her appeal to the opposite sex, Alison was not above wielding it like a blunt tool.

  As Ben leaned forward, Alison could see what looked like a coffee stain on the collar of his short sleeve white dress shirt. He was an intelligent and thoughtful man, but he embodied the typical academic persona. His hair was always disheveled, his glasses smudged, and his tan Dockers were at least two sizes too large for his relatively petite frame.

  “You remember that?” Excitement sparked in the man’s brown eyes.

  Alison leaned back and crossed her legs, the hem of her gray skirt hitting just above the knee. “Of course.”

  Ben’s eyes darted down to Alison’s exposed knee and a blush of red found his cheeks before he cleared his throat and looked back down at the rock. “Well, I can get you a chemical analysis by the middle of next week.” He grinned. “I’ll have one of my doctoral candidates work on it.”

  Now, walking toward Two Brothers, Alison’s iPhone chimed in her purse. Pressing the email icon, she skimmed the message from Ben. Come by when you have a minute. I’ll be here all this week until seven. Odd rock.

  “Hello.” Tom’s voice interrupted her reading.

  Looking up she managed a weak smile. “Oh, hi.”

  Tom frowned. “Curb that enthusiasm, professor.”

  Putting her phone back in her purse, Alison shook her head. “Sorry. I have a couple irons in the fire right now so I'm feeling a little scattered.”

  “No trouble. I appreciate you making the time for me.” Tom smiled and pointed to a large chalkboard that ran the length of the far wall. “We order at the counter and, in true Texas fashion, we order by the pound.”

  Looking around the restaurant for the first time, Alison thought it was indeed pretty typical of a South Texas barbeque joint. The ceiling was the exposed underside of the metal roof, and the cedar panel walls were decorated with various tools and faded metal gas station signs. One sign read Free Air in large orange script, and Alison couldn’t help but smile at the joke.

  “What’s your poison, professor? My treat.” Tom smiled broadly as he looked past Alison at the menu board.

  “That’s very nice of you.” Alison turned to the blond, bright eyed young man behind the counter. “Let’s see, I’ll have a link of sausage, potato salad, and a serving of pinto beans.”

  “I’m ordering brisket, and a lot of it. Are you game?” Tom leaned on the worn vinyl counter top.

  “I won’t embarrass myself by saying I’ve been known to eat nearly my weight in good brisket, but-” Alison winked at the man, and an amused expression spread across his face.

  “Well, alright.” Turning to the cashier, Tom rattled off an order consisting of a pound of brisket, cream corn, a sliced dill pickle that Alison thought was easily the size of her forearm, and a rack of baby back ribs.

  “I’m relieved you won’t go hungry, Tom.” Alison teased as they gathered their utensils, napkins, drinks, and three different barbeque sauces from a large wooden wagon that had been repurposed into a condiment bar.

  Sitting down at one of the indoor booths, Alison unwrapped the silverware and took a drink of her lemonade, its crisp tartness causing her lips to pucker.

  “I’ll cut to the chase. Are you interested in being a source for my series?” Tom took a drink of his ice tea.

  Given the odd events of the past few weeks, and the horrible nature of the crimes Tom was featuring, Alison would have been within her rights to tell him no. In the end though, the project, and obviously the subject matter, interested her.

  “I am.” A broad smile immediately spread across Tom’s face, and Alison couldn’t help but catch his enthusiasm. “But I have a few rules.”

  Chewing a bite of brisket, Tom wiped his mouth. “Shoot.”

  “First, I get to read each completed article before publication, and if I think you’ve gone Blair Witch on me, I won’t permit my name to be associated with the piece.” Alison watched Tom’s reaction carefully. He nodded his consent, so she continued. “Second, with my class schedule we will need to set up recurring meetings, and if possible have the option to Skype.”

  The corner of Tom’s mouth turned up as he listened to Alison. “Easy enough.”

  “Lastly – actually, that was it.” Alison took a bite of the pinto beans that tasted of bacon and garlic.

  “All very reasonable requests.” Tom rubbed his hands together. “So, let’s get down to it. My editor has agreed to a three part series. The overarching theme is around cultural bias and how it influences perceptions, interpretations - and ultimately how a community responds to crisis as a result of superstitions and folklore. The draft of installment one is due to my editor in three weeks and parts two and three every subsequent two weeks.”

  Alison was momentarily taken aback by Tom’s shift in tone. To that point, he had been a casual, plainly spoken, charming man, but when the topic of his writing came up, his professional acumen shone through.

  “Sounds great. I can provide you with several links and books you might be interested in. Specifically, the Colonial e
ra in Mexico.” Alison pulled the iPad from her mailbag, and finding Tom’s contact information, copied and pasted several hyperlinks before sending. “Many of the legends and superstitions unique to South Texas were created from a mix of religions and indigenous beliefs.”

  Tom smiled. “Thank you. I’ll be pickin’ your brain as I get more information about the cases.” He sighed. “The main issue is I haven’t been able to find anyone in the SAPD that is willing to talk about the cases with me. It’s causing the whole project to move slower than a month of Sundays.”

  Alison chuckled at the Southern colloquialism and immediately decided she wasn’t going to mention her ex-girlfriend was a homicide detective with the city. She had no idea if Ash could, or would, help. “Is there any flexibility on those deadlines?”

  Tom drank the last of his iced tea. “I’ve never missed a deadline, and not to sound cliché, but I don’t intend to start now.”

  Alison nodded. “I wish more of my students had that attitude.” She glanced at her watch. “Speaking of, I have to get going.” Tom stood as she slid out of the booth, and he eagerly reached for the strap of her bag, helping her pull it onto her shoulder. “Thanks, and I enjoyed dinner.”

  Tom grinned. “Me too. Same time next week?”

  Pulling her car keys out of her bag, Alison ran through her schedule in her head. “Yes, but let’s meet at the Starbucks across from campus. Does that work?”

  “Perfect.” Tom smiled warmly, and Alison couldn’t help but return the gesture as she made her way toward the door. She was growing fonder of the man, and though the thought of asking Ash for a professional favor made her nervous, her desire to help Tom moved her past her usual comfort zone and ensured she would make the awkward phone call.

  ***

  “Can you dumb that down a little for me, Ben?” Alison was driving home after dinner with Tom.

  “It’s a crystalline-based rock.” After several seconds of silence, Ben sighed. “Are you familiar with the hot dry rock geothermal energy concept?

  “Ben, assume silence is not golden, and that I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Alison turned into the faculty parking lot.

  “Crystalline-based rock formations are nearly dry, and because of that, it’s been suggested their surface is ideal for heat exchange within a loop. A closed circuit if you will, one end pinging off the other.” Ben was over enunciating his words, and Alison was trying not to feel like a small child learning to read.

  “Is that why the rock feels warm?” Alison hoped the question wasn’t too obvious.

  “Exactly! But where’s the other end of the loop?” Ben’s enthusiasm did little to abate the tension growing in the pit of Alison’s stomach.

  Pulling up in front of her house, Alison put her car in park, and felt a tightness pressing on her chest. “I have to go, Ben. Thanks for the information.” Moving the phone away from her ear, she heard Ben still speaking.

  “Don’t you want the rock back?”

  Alison hit the end button. She did not want the rock back, and if she understood the crash course in geothermal theory her colleague had just given her, she didn’t want to be near the rock. As impossible as it sounded, and as ridiculous as Alison felt even contemplating the possibility, she believed Christine was the other end of the loop.

  Chapter 6

  Alison walked into Picnikins, an upscale bistro near midtown, to meet her ex Ash for lunch. She had come directly from her morning classes and was wearing a pair of Anne Klein black boot cut slacks, a charcoal gray colored short sleeve cotton button-up blouse, and a pair of gray patent leather heels.

  In spite of the fact the two women had stayed in touch over the years through mutual friends and eventually on Facebook, Alison had not actually seen her ex since she attended Ash’s mother’s funeral over three years ago.

  If she were honest with herself, she was nervous. She and Ash had met at the University of Texas in Austin while she was working on her Masters and Ash was finishing her Bachelors of Science. They had dated for over three years and each considered the other their first serious relationship.

  Their break-up had been amicable as both women agreed they had grown apart romantically, even if they still cared for each other very much as friends. Ultimately, Alison had struggled with Ash’s professional choices and knew she wouldn’t be able to manage the emotional ups and downs of being with a police officer. Danger and intrigue had never interested her. She had always thought life - on its own - could provide enough heartache and disaster without cultivating it into a thirty year career.

  “Ali.” Ash’s voice had a mezzo-soprano pitch that had always brought a rush of heat to Alison’s stomach. The effect hadn’t lessened over the years, nor had Ash’s beauty. Nearly six feet tall in her black Cole Haan heels, Ash’s olive tone skin was flawless and complemented her angular features. Her long brown hair hung loosely down her back and, in typical fashion, the detective was dressed impeccably in a black Kenneth Cole pant suit.

  “Hi.” Alison couldn’t help but smile as the two women hugged.

  Keeping her arms around Alison’s waist, Ash leaned back, a huge grin on her full lips. “You cut your hair.”

  Alison shrugged. “It was an impulse during the summer when it hit a hundred and five.”

  Ash nodded, a look of admiration on her face. “Good impulse.”

  The two women sat down at the narrow two-top table. “How the hell have you been, Ali?”

  Alison smiled as she hung her purse over the back of the chair. “Busy. The new semester started. I agreed to teach a night course on top of the three courses I’ve got during the day, and I’m considering a third book and whether I want to take on a doctoral candidate next spring.” She poured herself a glass of San Pellegrino that she assumed Ash had ordered while she waited.

  “Are you still swimming?” Ash took a drink of her mineral water.

  “Yes.” Ali opened the menu, a chill running up her arms as the memory of Christine in the empty locker room ran through her mind. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Alison managed a smile. “Three times a week. Let’s add that to the list.”

  Ash frowned. “Clearly not happily, by the look on your face.”

  Shaking her head. “Oh, no I love swimming. You know - it clears my head.” Wanting to steer the conversation onto a more pleasant track because she had never been any good at masking her feelings around Ash, Alison put the menu down. “How are you? I was horrified when I saw you had been involved in those motel killings last spring.” Alison shuddered. “You can’t imagine the relief when you responded to my text that you were okay.”

  Ash winced. “You were one of many. My phone lit up for three days.”

  Alison instinctively reached for Ash’s hand. “People who know you tend to be fond of you, friend, and I’m very sorry about your partner Cris.”

  Ash squeezed Alison’s hand affectionately, the memory of her dead partner pushing tears to the back of her eyes. “You’re sweet.”

  Sensing Ash needed a different topic of conversation as well, Alison released her hand with a reassuring smile. “Speaking of people that know you - are you seeing anyone?” Over the years, Ash and Alison had spoken openly about their relationships, and Alison had always been grateful for their candor.

  Before Ash could answer, the waitress returned. “Have you ladies decided?”

  Alison flipped the menu open. “Let me have the Greek salad, no olives, dressing on the side, please.”

  “And for you, ma’am?” The twenty-something brunette gave Ash a generous smile.

  “I’ll start with a bowl of chicken tortilla soup, and then the bleu cheese bacon burger, with fries.” Ash skimmed the menu. “And can you bring me a slice of rum cake for after, please?”

  The waitress smiled, picked up the menus, and left an open mouthed Alison staring at Ash. “What?” Ash smirked.

  Managing to close her mouth, Alison's brow furrowed. “You always had the nutritional sense of a prepubescent
boy, but are you going to be able to walk out of here?”

  Ash laughed. “Thanks, Ali, a fat joke. Neat.”

  Ali shook her head. “Not even - a diabetic coma joke, actually.”

  Shifting in her seat, Ash leaned back and crossed her long legs. “I missed breakfast.”

  “Ah, okay.” Alison looked suspiciously at her friend. “So, seeing anyone?”

  Ash grinned and folded her napkin twice before laying it back in her lap. “Yes.”

  Alison knew from the slight blush and her usually confident friend’s sudden shyness, that whoever the woman was, Ash was smitten. “And?”

  Ash chewed nervously on the inside of her lower lip. “She’s one of the deputy medical examiners. We met about nine months ago, and - wait for it - we’re living together.” A broad smile had found its way to Ash’s mouth.

  Alison chuckled at Ash’s turn of phrase and could see from the way her face had lit up that she clearly cared for the woman. “What’s her name?”

  “Emma, Dr. Emma Atman.” Ash beamed.

  Alison leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “You’re so gay for her, aren’t you?”

  Ash nodded enthusiastically. “I really am.”

  Leaning back, Alison smiled. “That’s awesome, Ash.”

  “What about you? Any luck with happily ever after?”

  Alison sighed. “A few dates here and there, but nothing even close to a U-Haul rental.” She was tempted to get Ash’s perspective on the Bryce situation, but thought better of it since she hardly knew how to define it, much less have a conversation about it. “Jules managed to set me up with a married straight woman awhile back, and that was special.”

  Ash nearly spit her water out. “Your sister is special.”

  Ash and Julia had not enjoyed each other’s company when Alison and she were dating. The two women by their very natures were competitive, and that made for some intense outings that usually left Alison feeling emotionally drained and wedged between defending her sister or her girlfriend.