Psychic Dreams: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel (Glimmer Lake Book 3)

by Elizabeth Hunter

  Eve snorted. “Harsh.”

  “Accurate.” She sipped more coffee. “Besides, I will always be hardest on my own children.”

  “Good to know. Also, Kara works her butt off and she doesn’t have much of a safety net, so I’m glad you’re looking out for her.”

  “Oh?” Monica hadn’t known that. Kara was pretty tight-lipped about her past.

  “I don’t know specifics—she’s not a talker about personal stuff—but I don’t think she has much family. Or if she does, she’d not on good terms with them.”

  “Oh, that’s rotten. I’m sorry to hear that.” Monica’s mom heart wanted to immediately scoop Kara up and adopt her, but possible romance with Jake made the idea of it a bit awkward.

  “She’s very independent.” Eve kept her voice low. “Very organized. But I kind of have the feeling it’s because she’s always had to be, you know? I just get that feeling from her.”

  “Good to know. So we keep an eye on her. She’s got an apartment in town, right?”

  “She rents a room at Bailey’s.”

  Bailey’s Boarding House was a popular spot for seasonal workers and long-term stays. It made sense for a single woman who spent most of her time at work. “You see her with any friends?”

  Eve nodded. “A few. She’s not a loner.” She smiled. “And then… I’ve noticed a distinct uptick in late nights recently too.”

  Monica smiled. “Well, hopefully Jake has his head on straight for this one. She’s a really nice girl.”

  “She is.” Eve wiggled her eyebrows. “And how about you? Juggling the attentions of two silver foxes, Monica? I think I want to be you when I grow up.”

  Monica nearly choked on her coffee. “What?”

  “Val told me you went out with West. Who is hot, I want to say, but also maybe not the most serious type?” Eve lowered her voice. “But I mean, if you want it, get it, girl. The man is old enough to be my father, but I can recognize the appeal.”

  “Oh.” Monica put her hands over her eyes. “I don’t know what to do about West.”

  “It’s only been four years.” Eve bit her lip. “Did you forget what goes where?”

  Monica threw a balled-up napkin at Eve. “Brat! You’re worse than Val.”

  Eve burst out laughing. “I learned from the master. And I tease because I love. But I’d be remiss in not mentioning you also have the very smoldering—pun intended—attention of our local fire chief. Who can’t take his eyes off your legs every time you walk away.”

  Monica shook her head. “Do you see everything around here?”

  Eve shrugged and spread her arms out. “No one notices the coffee chick even though I have blue hair. I’m the perfect spy.”

  “I’ll say.”

  The fire wasn’t an inferno that night—it swept from her feet like a carpet spread before her, rolling through the underbrush toward a destination shrouded by fog.

  Was it smoke?

  The fire cut through a towering grove of sequoias, the primeval giants rising from the forest floor in an eerie circle, surrounding a mother tree hollowed by fire.

  Lavender’s green, dilly dilly,

  Lavender’s blue

  You must love me, dilly dilly,

  ’cause I love you.

  Monica heard the voice like a ghostly apparition coming through the mist. She walked through the sequoia grove and into the fog. “Hello?”

  I heard one say, dilly dilly,

  since I came hither,

  That you and I, dilly dilly,

  must lie together.

  “Hello?” Monica walked through the flames barefoot, but the fire didn’t burn her feet and her dress wasn’t scorched. “Who are you?”

  “You must love me, dilly dilly, ’cause I love you…”

  She saw a hunting cabin through the smoke. It was already on fire, and Monica saw a face peering through the window.

  No. It made no sense.

  The familiar face disappeared and a pale, moonfaced girl took its place.

  “Bethany?”

  Bethany’s eyes went wide and she put a finger to her lips. “Shhhhh.”

  Monica heard the warning like a whisper in her ear.

  “Wake up.” The whisper came again. “Before it’s too late.”

  Monica sat up gasping and reached for the phone on her bedside table. She dialed Sully’s number without even pausing to write the dream down.

  “Monica?” He was already awake. “Another one?”

  “Another hunting cabin. It was near a grove of sequoias and there was water nearby. I heard something like a waterfall.”

  “Describe the cabin.”

  “Old. Older than the others. Redwood logs were square cut. Stacked. No siding. One story. Stone chimney.”

  “Square-cut redwood logs?”

  Monica closed her eyes and tried to remember every detail. “Moss on the roof. Moss on the sides of the trees…” What side…? “Everything is turned around in my head, but I think the water or stream or whatever it is was east of the cabin.”

  Sully muttered, “Damn. This sounds remote.”

  “The fire’s in the underbrush,” Monica said. “It wasn’t in the trees. I don’t think she’s lit it yet.”

  “She?”

  Monica was crying because nothing made sense. “I don’t know, Sully! I didn’t see anyone for sure. It was all mixed up and there was a ghost—”

  “I gotta get my map, okay? Then I’ll call this in, but I gotta have a better idea of where it is. Just hang in there and don’t panic.”

  Sully called her hours later. The fire had been set in an old hunting cabin, but it was off a fire road south of town, within walking distance of Chaco’s bar, and there was minimal damage.

  “I don’t know what to tell you,” Sully said. “I was trying to locate the cabin you were talking about and I wasn’t having any luck, but I called Gabe to give him a heads-up about there maybe being another fire, and he said someone had already reported it.”

  “So it wasn’t near a sequoia grove?”

  “Nope.”

  None of it made sense.

  “The good news,” Sully continued, “is that they caught this one early, like the fire at the Alison cabin, so there’s a lot of evidence. Hopefully Val will be able to get something off the site in a day or two.”

  “The fires are happening every three or four days,” Monica said. “We don’t have much time.”

  “I know.” Sully’s voice was grim. “So far the damage hasn’t been much, but I feel like he or she is getting bolder. This one was nearly in town.”

  “Do serial arsonists want to get caught?”

  “I don’t know.” Sully cleared his throat. “Last night you said ‘she’ hadn’t set the fire yet. Did you see someone?”

  Monica paused. She didn’t want to point fingers at innocent people when the rest of the dream hadn’t proven true. “There was a ghost in the dream,” Monica said. “The little girl who talks to Robin so much. Obviously she can’t be the one who set the fire. Robin’s sure a ghost couldn’t do this, but I said she because I saw her.”

  “Right.” Sully sounded doubtful. “Are you sure there’s not something else you’re not telling me?”

  Monica took a deep breath. “I wish visions were more concrete, like the energy Val feels off objects, but they just aren’t. Visions are messy. They’re open to interpretation, and sometimes things don’t follow. Like this time. No redwood cabin. No stream. No sequoias.”

  “Some of that is symbolic, you mean?”

  “Yeah. In all these dreams, I’m walking though the fire barefoot and it’s not touching me. I don’t know what that means yet, but I’m working on it.”

  “Right.” He sighed. “It’s the middle of the night. Try to get some sleep, okay?”

  “I’ll try. Good night, Sully.”

  Chapter 14

  Monica treated herself to coffee and scones at Misfit the next morning. She called in to Kara, who sounded as chipper
as ever. Everything was running smoothly at Russell House, so Monica decided to hang with Val for a little if her friend had time.

  She was sitting in a corner, enjoying a hot latte and blueberry scone, when she saw him walk in.

  Gabe spotted her at almost the same time she spotted him. He lifted his chin in greeting, let his eyes linger for a moment, then nodded at the register.

  Monica waved and paid attention to her own coffee.

  “Hey, Ms. Velasquez!” Logan walked right up to her table, looking like a transformed kid. “How are you? How’s Jake?”

  Monica smiled immediately. “Hey, Logan.”

  He sat at her table without asking. “Thanks again for letting me go out with him. Did he tell you I tried a kayak too?”

  “He didn’t.”

  “So the next day, I biked down to the lake to the boat rental place, right?”

  “Oh, that’s great.”

  “And I rented a kayak and there was this really nice girl there. She got me all set up, and then we actually talked for a while and she gave me some tips and we went kayaking the next day. It was great.” He held out his arm. “I’m a little sunburned though.”

  “I can see that.” And a little dazzled by whatever cutie he’d met at the lake. “That’s awesome! Well, not the sunburn part.”

  He shrugged. “I’ll be brown by tomorrow. It’s cool.” He looked over at his dad. “My dad had another call last night. He’s pretty tired.”

  “I remember those nights. You’re probably pretty tired too.”

  He shrugged. “It’s different when I’m with him. Most of the time I don’t think much about what he does. It’s a lot.”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  Gabe wandered over and set a frosty drink in front of Logan. “Coffee frapp-a-milkshake thing for you.” He turned to Monica. “Do you mind if we join you, since my son didn’t ask?”

  Monica smiled. He did seem a little grumpy, but he was still polite. “Not at all. Logan was telling me about his kayak trip the other day.”

  That seemed to cheer Gabe a little. “Yeah, it sounds like he had a great time.”

  “And it sounds like you guys were busy last night too.”

  He took the lid off his coffee and blew on the steaming cup. “I know it’s probably kids, but—”

  “Doesn’t make it any less dangerous,” Monica said quietly. “I know.”

  Logan spotted someone across the room and perked up. “Oh hey, Dad.”

  Gabe turned toward the group of kids who’d entered Misfit. One of them was a girl with short blond hair. She waved at Logan with a big smile.

  “Yeah.” Gabe jerked his head. “Don’t leave without me.”

  “Cool.” Logan flashed a smile at Monica. “See you, Ms. Velasquez.”

  “Bye.” She waved as Logan fled the adults for the teenagers. “Your son has very nice manners.”

  “I have to give his mom credit for that. She did a good job.”

  “And he looks a lot happier.”

  Gabe raised an eyebrow. “The power of getting out of the damn house and meeting a cute girl, right?”

  She smiled. “Most of the local kids are really nice. There’re always a few troublemakers, but by and large, the kids in town are pretty harmless.”

  “I wish he’d met some kids earlier in the summer, but late is better than never.”

  “It’s possible they’ve been standoffish because they thought he was an out-of-towner. Once they found out you live here, they might have warmed up. I remember it being the same when I was younger. You don’t want to make friends with someone who’s going to forget you exist as soon as they leave town for their real life.”

  “Yeah, that makes sense.” Gabe craned his neck to check on Logan. “He’s a good kid. I hope he makes some friends. His mom says he’s kind of a loner at his high school in Emeryville.”

  “That’s too bad.” She nodded to the table where Logan was sitting. “Maybe he’ll find his people here. I always told my kids you don’t need a lot of friends, just a couple of good ones.”

  Gabe smiled, and the laugh lines around his eyes deepened. “That’s good advice.”

  “How about you?” Monica tried not to get distracted by his mouth, which she’d just noticed had a little bit of foam on it. “Do you have a few good friends?”

  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Because I’m with the state, I’ve moved around quite a bit, so that’s hard. But I’d count Sully as a good friend. Part of the reason I wanted this position was because I know some of the guys in the company too.”

  “Good.”

  “They speak very highly of your late husband.”

  Monica smiled. “That’s good to hear. Everyone loved Gilbert.”

  “Heart attack?” Gabe shook his head. “He was young.”

  The ache was always there, like a bruise that never went away. “Yeah. He was always healthy, so he’d never gotten his heart examined for anything. Just his regular physicals, right? Apparently it was a congenital defect and he could have died even younger. Totally unpredictable.”

  “That’s horrible. I’m so sorry.”

  “It was horrible. But after we learned that—how he could have died anytime—I tried to think about all the years we had together, all the years the kids had their dad, as a gift, you know? We could have lost him so much earlier.”

  Gabe’s eyes were kind. “Still hard.”

  She blinked back a couple of tears. “Still hard.”

  “It’s been three years?”

  She nodded. “Almost four.”

  “You, uh… I mean, have you—” He cleared his throat. “None of the guys knew if you’d seen anyone since your husband passed.”

  Monica frowned. “Seen anyone? Like a therapist?”

  His cheeks took on a ruddy tinge. “You know what, it’s none—”

  “Oh, like dating.” She said that louder than she’d intended and felt eyes turn toward them.

  Nice, Monica.

  Gabe swiped a hand over his face. “You know what, you were just talking about your late husband and that was rude for me to bring up and I’m tired. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked—”

  “Just once.” Monica powered through her embarrassment since Gabe seemed embarrassed too. “Recently. I don’t mind you asking. I’ll always be sad about Gil. I don’t think that ever goes away, but I can’t stop living my life. Gil would hate that. I’m still young too.”

  “You are.” His eyes traveled over her, from her lips to her cleavage, down to her legs. “And you obviously have a very… busy life.”

  “So I went on this date a little while ago.” She smiled. “First first date in thirty years. It was fun. A little awkward.”

  The corner of his mouth inched up. “I can imagine. So is it serious with the guy you went on the date with?”

  She cocked her head. “I might go out with him again. Not sure. It’s not an exclusive thing though. We just met.”

  Gabe nodded. “Gotcha.”

  Monica felt bold. He was clearly interested and wasn’t being very subtle about it. Monica leaned her elbow on the table and angled herself toward him, playing with her hair a little. “Are you thinking about asking me out, Chief Peralta?”

  His eyes went to the fingers playing in her hair. “I’m… an investigator.” He cleared his throat and looked her straight in the eye. “So I’m investigating.”

  “Is that so?”

  His eyes moved to her lips. “Yeah.”

  Okay, this was… fun. She felt bold. Sexy. She crossed her legs at the ankles and saw his eyes drop to her thighs. “You’ll have to let me know the results of your investigation when you’re finished.”

  He shifted in his chair. “I think this may be a pretty complicated case. I may have to question you more specifically about certain… assets. Aspects.” He cleared his throat again. “Might need to schedule a one-on-one.” His eyes met hers, and Monica felt like she would melt under his gaze. If looks could seduc
e…

  What was she talking about? Looks could definitely seduce, and the one Gabe was giving her had Monica ready to throw in the towel. Or her panties. Whatever it took to surrender.

  Her brain flashed to the dream she’d had about him.

  Not a dream, a vision. Was she falling into something inevitable? Or was her vision giving her a warning?

  “Well.” Monica took a deep breath. “If you need to schedule that one-on-one…”

  Gabe’s eyebrows went up.

  “Monica!” Val grabbed her before Monica could finish her sentence. “Hey, it’s Sexy Gabe. Hey, Sexy Gabe, I need the woman you’re flirting with right now—sorry for the interruption, but I need her. Bye, see you later.”

  Monica was yanked out of her seat and barely had time to grab her coffee. “Okay… what?”

  Gabe’s mouth opened, but he didn’t get a word out before Val whisked her away, behind the counter, down the hallway, and onto the screened porch at the back of Misfit Mountain.

  “Okay.” Monica was finally able to speak. “What the—?”

  “I am sorry.” Val put both her hands on Monica’s cheeks. “I am so so so so sorry, because you guys looked like you were about to make out at the corner table, and he’s hot and I want that for you, but I need you to see this and it cannot wait because I’m freaking out and you have to see this.”

  “What?”

  Val pointed to something on the table. Monica turned to look and saw a bundle of what looked like black clothes.

  “What is that?”

  “Look closer. I found it in the dumpster just now when I was taking out a bag.”

  “It’s burned.” Monica picked up a pen that was sitting on the table and poked at the bundle. “Are these…?” A section of the cloth revealed itself in a fold, the wool plaid still familiar even though she’d only seen it once. “Is this the same kind of blanket we found at the Alison barn?”

  “Uh-huh. In my dumpster.”

  Monica’s eyes went wide. “You think this came from the most recent fire?”

  “Yes, but how did it end up in my dumpster? Of all the dumpsters in town, why mine? Chaco’s is closer, and I know Sergio doesn’t lock his bins. Why did she dump them in my dumpster? Do you think the arsonist is one of my customers? Do you think she knows we’re looking for her?”