One of the men called out the exit number without bothering to stop pulling out the bundles of new bills from the satchel. Isaac turned to leave again when the guy called out again.
“Hey, man, we wasted a guy for you. Don’t we even get a thank you?”
Isaac was already fifteen feet away—exactly fifteen feet away so as to be in the clear of blood splatter. He gave a slight chuckle. “I always forget that part,” he said before pivoting on his heel so fast his jacket flapped at the same time he whipped his weapon from the shoulder holster beneath his jacket. Holding a sideways stance in a well-practiced move, Isaac fired off two rapid shots, hitting each man between the eyes and killing them instantly.
Unscrewing the hot silencer from his weapon with a gloved hand and dropping it into his pocket, he turned and walked back out of the warehouse to return to his parked car. Before sliding into the driver’s seat, he signaled to his cleanup man, parked and waiting on the side of the warehouse in a deceptively dilapidated moving and hauling van. The man exited the van and walked by, dressed in overalls and carrying several jugs. Isaac knew whatever chemicals he had in those jugs would effectively dispose of the waste left inside the warehouse. Isaac suspected the boom box would also succumb to the chemicals.
The only communication between them occurred when Isaac held up two gloved fingers, to which the cleanup man nodded and continued walking toward the warehouse.
Isaac drove off without giving another thought to the two dead men inside the warehouse or to the two hundred thousand dollars.
The cash was payment to the cleanup man compliments of the congressman.
Chapter Three
Valerie
Valerie had spent the day cleaning the first-floor rooms. Taking a break and heading into the kitchen, she paused to admire her contractor’s remodeling work. The remodel had taken two months to complete. She was quite pleased with what she saw. It was exactly what she wanted.
Renovating the 1930s house left to her by Aunt Ruby had been an extensive and expensive undertaking. She hadn’t expected the amount of work needed or money she had to spend to return the house to its former glory and then some. To stay within her budget, she did some fix-it projects herself. It was challenging but soon turned into a labor of love. She hoped Aunt Ruby would be pleased.
She always knew the house was a diamond in the rough.
She was feeling more tired today than usual, and an odd feeling of restlessness had been increasing lately. The feeling grew as the afternoon wore on, and it usually precipitated a vision.
She suspected she might have a vision today. She didn't know when it would happen. It could be just an image, or it could be something as fleeting as a whisper in the wind. The things she saw didn't frighten her; they never did.
Years ago, her aunt Ruby explained that she was especially sensitive to the sights, smells, and vibrations of people and things around her. This helped Valerie understand what she was feeling was normal for her and to not be afraid of it. At first Valerie had been frightened of her dreams and visions, but eventually, she had come to accept them as part of who she was. Aunt Ruby always reassured her that she was special and not a weirdo, as Lynne insisted on calling her.
Her family, who hadn’t taken her sensibilities seriously, claimed her visions were the product of a child’s overactive imagination. Her mother had made excuses to her teachers and counselors who had showed concern. One such counselor suggested medication and therapy.
Then there was that time she’d passed out in high school. Her mother rushed to the school with another excuse. But Valerie never outgrew it, and she learned not to ignore the things that made her lightheaded. Actually, her inclinations and perceptions grew stronger in her teenage years and adulthood. Sometimes it was simple things like knowing who was calling before the phone rang or naming the next song on the radio before it played. She had known Aunt Ruby’s heart was failing even though she denied anything was wrong with her.
One incident occurred that even a skeptical Lynne couldn’t explain away.
As a teenager, Valerie had stopped at a favorite convenient store for a soft drink and abruptly halted as she approached the door. An image played out briefly of the store being robbed and the people inside were hurt. It was so intense she frantically looked around and spotted two patrol officers across the street.
Collecting herself, she walked over to them and, trying not to sound like some crazy lunatic, she explained that she’d heard a young man explain to his three cohorts sitting in the car with black hooded jackets how they were going to hold up the store. Unsurprisingly, the cops were suspicious but curious enough to investigate. They called for backup. Ultimately, they were able to stop the robbery in progress and apprehend the four would-be robbers who were hell-bent on killing everyone in the store.
After being cleared by the police as being a concerned citizen and not a participant in the robbery, Valerie was hailed a lifesaver by the store owner and counter clerks. Although no lives were lost and there was no bloodshed, the store owner and clerks never quite looked at her the same way again. She realized they were frightened of her. She never returned to that store again.
That’s pretty much how Valerie felt today—frightened and apprehensive.
Walking into the living room with her glass of water, she decided to pay another one of Aunt Ruby’s bills that continued to trickle in. It still surprised her now, two months after her aunt’s passing, how something as simple as writing out a check for $37.00 could renew her grief.
Dropping to the couch, her eyes strayed to her favorite picture of her aunt Ruby, taken when she had been about thirty years old. Valerie smiled because she looked so much like her aunt did then. She had the same dark, exotic eyes, long black wavy hair, full lips, and smooth brown skin. Valerie was a slender and shapely woman like Ruby had been. The outfit her aunt was wearing in the picture was low cut and showed her curves. Her aunt looked like a seductive gypsy, and Valerie believed she had been from her stories.
Her aunt shared that most people were uneasy and suspicious of her because she had the gift to see beyond who they pretended to be. Her reserve caused many to not trust her.
Pulling open a drawer on the end table, Valerie removed the little black velvet pouch she’d purchased to keep her aunt’s favorite crystal in. It was the same one she’d found in Aunt Ruby’s armchair. Lifting it gently from the pouch by the black satin ribbon, she held it up and watched the gem glimmer and sparkle.
As a kid, she had begged to wear it, then was disappointed when she was repeatedly told no. Finally, Aunt Ruby explained that crystals held the spirit and energy of the wearer and no one else should wear it. It had to be cleansed and purified, but a tiny speck of the wearer’s essence could remain. She also recalled her aunt warning’s about their powers and what they represented.
Like she’d been taught, Valerie had performed the purification ritual and now, smiling sadly to herself, she hoped what her aunt had told her was true—that some minuscule spark of her beloved aunt’s essence remained inside it.
“Well, here goes.” Taking a deep breath and blowing it out, Valerie lifted the knotted ribbon and put it around her neck. Flattening her hand over the crystal lying heavily against her chest, she felt immediate warmth surround her, like being enfolded by a warm blanket or a pair of loving arms. Perhaps some of Aunt Ruby’s energy had remained caught in the crystal after all.
Sighing and reclining in the newly reupholstered arm chair, she closed her eyes. She could feel the energy of the crystal. She let her mind wander and then surrendered to the jewel’s soothing effects.
When a familiar tug signaling a vision seeping into her conscious mind happened, Valerie allowed the feeling to evolve and carry her away to wherever it wanted her to go…
She saw it.
Fog so dense she could almost feel it against her skin and so heavy, if she inhaled, she could feel it in her mouth like tasteless cotton candy. It was the kind of fog in which not
hing could be seen beyond a foot or two.
Entranced, her hand lifted up as if to guide her path. Her dream-like state deepened, and she moved through the fog. She was eager to see what lay ahead. She didn't know where she was, and she was careful of her footing as she looked around.
The eerie quiet was calming, so she continued going forward, despite not being unable to see anything. She could, however, hear something…water slapping against a shore or beach, perhaps. Then movement and crunching beneath her feet revealed that she was walking on gravel. The place was so peaceful, she felt like dancing with the fog and envisioned being in a handsome man’s arms. The idea of moving so freely without anyone looking and judging her was something she would have liked.
Glancing down at her feet, she realized she was no longer moving. She was slowly walking along a faded white line, and when she studied it further, she saw that it was a marker in the road and decided to follow the line as it led into a curve in the road. The white line stretched on and then disappeared into the fog.
Ahead, a flash of light and movement caught her attention.
Coming out of the fog toward her was a man. He appeared to be looking straight at her and, for a second, she thought he could see her too, but that was impossible; no one ever saw her in her trances. She studied his face. He was a very handsome black man with finely chiseled features. Although his eyes squinted to see through the fog, she was close enough to see that his eyes were a dark brown and expressive and framed with long, beautiful, black eyelashes that curled. His hair was black and closely cropped. He sported a five o’clock shadow, which stood out against his smooth skin. Beneath the suit, there was no mistaking how defined his body was or how tall and lean he was.
Could this be the handsome man I conjured up to dance with me?
Valerie watched his mouth. His lips were full and sexy. She was compelled to try and touch him, so she lifted her hand, which halted in mid-air. She remembered she wouldn’t be able to feel him, nor could he feel or see her.
Watching his mouth move, she realized he was talking to himself before he hurried along the road away from her. He stumbled and turned back for a split second, and it was long enough for her to see that his face was now etched in pain. He needed help. She felt his fear and his pain, but he disappeared into the fog, and she lost sight of him.
She followed the direction he’d gone until she heard a fog horn. Although it was loud, the sound was muffled by the dense fog, and before she could dwell on where she might be, the sound of crunching gravel was heard from behind her. It too was muffled and, turning in that direction, she spotted two men—one helping the other rise to his feet and arguing in the process. Her eyes swung to the taller man holding a gun in his hand. They continued arguing as they hurried through the fog toward a metal railing that was now visible. Curious, she followed them. She stood, unseen beside them, as they hurled a string of profanity into the fog.
Her eyes followed theirs as they searched through the fog. Training her ears for the sounds around her, the slapping of water was much greater, and she realized there was water below the railing, and this was some type of bridge. Surely, the handsome man didn’t jump over the railing. But this was where he’d run. She called out to him at the exact same moment the fog horn sounded again. “Hello,” she called out anyway.
With her hands gripping the railing, she turned to her left and saw that the fog had dissipated enough for her to see the two men running to a truck. They quickly got in and sped off down the darken road, leaving a trail of dust and gravel in their wake. Turning back to the railing, she called out to the man again. “Hello. Are you there?”
Not expecting a response, she took one last look over the railing and realized the fog was gradually dissipating. Straining her eyes, she saw the black, murky water rippling and sloshing below, but there was something else out in the water.
It was enormous and labored heavily as it slowly moved along the jet black, inky water. It was a vessel of some sort, and she immediately recoiled from the stench that permeated from it through the fog.
Stepping away from the railing and hoping the handsome man somehow survived, she was about to turn back when she stopped dead in her tracks. Glancing down at her feet, she wondered why she couldn’t move. She saw blood on the ground…lots of it. If she’d taken another step, she surely would have stepped into the ruby red, glistening pool. Lifting her eyes, she followed the trail to the railing, and without warning a sharp pain pierced the center of her chest, forcing her to press her hand to her chest. Then quickly pulling her hand away, she gasped. Horrified to see blood covering her hand, she fell to her knees when another more intense pain brought tears to her eyes.
On the ground, gasping through the sharp burning pain, her hands splayed out on the ground, grabbing hands full of gravel as she hunched forward.
Blinking through hot, watery tears, she stared aghast to see the drops of blood on the ground came together to spell out letters she had seen before:
C-A-D-E.
***
Valerie
Valerie jolted awake, gasping for air. She looked around to assure herself that she was still in her living room. After pulling in several deep breaths, she struggled to absorb everything she had seen. Her heart was racing, and she couldn’t move or speak but was clutching the crystal in one hand while her other was raised, palm up, as if she were pushing against an invisible wall. Lowering her hands to her lap, she rested her head against the back of the chair.
As was always the case following a trance, she felt exhausted and lethargic. The inability to move for several minutes was something she had become used to. The only thing she could do was wait a few minutes until her body and equilibrium got back in sync.
She managed to remove the satin ribbon and crystal from around her neck and hang it over her aunt’s picture frame on the end table. All the while, her mind remained on those letters.
Was CADE the name of the man she’d just seen in her vision? Who were those other men? Why were they chasing him?
Finally, pushing herself out of the chair and rising unsteadily to her feet, she stumbled into the kitchen to make a cup of tea to calm her troubled nerves.
Waiting for the kettle of water to boil, Valerie pondered what the vision meant. It was a different vision because it felt so real, and she wasn’t sure what to make of it.
Picking up her market list from the counter, she flipped it over and wrote down the letters she’d seen while in the vision. This wasn’t the first time she’d seen the letters, and it was too much to be a coincidence to see them again.
Turning the paper sideways and upside down, she drew a blank. She wondered what they could mean. After preparing her tea and still feeling out of sorts, she took her steaming cup into her office and, on a hunch, decided to do some research on the Internet to see what she could find. There had to be something to explain why she kept seeing those letters.
She wondered if the man she’d seen was in some sort of trouble…or was about to be. Whichever the case, she had to find out what her connection to him was.
With her fingers hovering over the keyboard, she didn’t know where to begin her search. Closing her eyes, she thought about the handsome man and, focusing on him, she willed herself to remember every possible detail of the vision.
Valerie didn’t often deliberately conjure up a vision, so she was apprehensive. Then she thought a little spiritual guidance couldn’t hurt and hurried back to the living room to retrieve her aunt Ruby’s crystal.
Back in her office, she held the crystal firmly in her hand, and immediately the feeling of a familiar pull hit her.
As with the speed of light, she was smack-dab into another vision and found herself standing on the isolated gravel road again. It appeared deserted, untraveled, and surrounded by woods and brush littered with road debris. There was no fog, and it was daytime now. She looked around for anything recognizable, like landmarks that would indicate where she was, but there was nothi
ng. No guardrails, no waterway, no tall, handsome stranger fleeing or steroid-enhanced musclemen in hot pursuit. It was just the quiet, lonely road.
Off in the distance, she heard a train whistle, and with the sound of a snap, she was back in her home office again. She smiled because this particular vision was so quick, it didn’t leave her with emotional and physical fatigue like the last one. She wondered if she was getting better at controlling her visions and trances or if the crystal was helping her to focus.
Whatever the case, she sensed the black water and deserted roads she’d seen the first time were prevalent. In time, she knew it would be connected to the handsome man who most likely, and sadly, jumped over the railing.
Chapter Four
Cade
Cade Colter didn’t need his sixth sense to tell him that he was in deep shit.
He was still breathing so he didn’t think he was dead.
Why can’t I move anything? Think!
He remembered being at the party then jumping off the roof and marveling at his good fortune that he hadn’t broken his fool neck.
Then everything went black, and now he couldn’t move.
Why can’t I move?
Swallowing down his rising panic, he forced himself to remain calm.
How did I get here? Where am I, and what happened to my damn legs?
Something else was nagging him. He was being chased, and somebody was trying to kill him. Why?
I had something they wanted.
It was something so valuable and important that he had risked his life to steal it and keep it safe. They’d searched him but hadn’t found it because he had hidden it. Yeah, it was hidden in his buckle.
I’m so clever.
It was the prized belt buckle that he’d made in his own workshop. He’d made the belt buckle specifically to hold a small object. He’d figured that much out.
Finding Cade (Dream Catcher Series Book 1) Page 4
