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

by Elizabeth Hunter

  “I saw her.” She patted his hand. “Don’t worry—you’ll get used to it.”

  He shook his head slowly. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you.”

  Was that a compliment? “Kara is not responsible for these fires. Robin thinks she’s been possessed—”

  “Not possessed,” Robin said. “Not exactly. It’s not like an Exorcist kind of thing. But today Monica called up to Kara’s first job in Sacramento and found out that Kara is a blood relative of two sisters who were killed in a fire a long time ago in Grimmer. We think the ghost of one of those girls is trying to finish off the last of Grimmer. Burn any trace of the old town, like these cabins.”

  Gabe’s eyes cut to Robin. “How does Monica’s house fit with that? It can’t be more than thirty or forty years old.”

  “Robin talked to one of the ghosts,” Monica said. “The little sister. I was there, and I asked about the redwood cabin I keep seeing in my dreams. When I did that, something… brushed me.” She shivered involuntarily. “She recognized me. I think burning my house was a warning.”

  “Don’t interfere or you’ll pay,” Gabe muttered. “But it’s Kara who is physically setting the fires.”

  “She’s had trouble sleeping,” Robin said. “If she’s tired and her defenses are down… Val said that she only sensed confusion and fear when she searched what was left at the sites. Kara didn’t know what she was doing.”

  Gabe wiped a hand over his face, looking exhausted. “How the hell am I going to write any of this into an investigation report?”

  Mark walked over and handed Gabe a large cup of coffee. “I don’t have any psychic powers or visions, but think I may have an answer for that.”

  “The bigger problem,” Robin said, “is that now that Kara is out of Grimmer and safe in Bridger, who is Rosemarie going to target next?”

  “Rosemarie?” Gabe asked.

  “The ghost of the older sister,” Robin said. “We think she started the fire in the 1930s that eventually led to the town being covered by the lake.”

  Monica put both hands around her coffee, trying to warm the chill in her chest. “You think she’ll still try to burn Glimmer Lake?”

  “I think Kara coming back to town woke her up,” Robin said. “Kara is gone, but Rosemarie is still awake.”

  “And there are pieces of Grimmer still standing,” Gabe said. “Robin is right. Kara is safe now, but there’s no guarantee this ghost is finished.”

  Chapter 23

  Monica walked through the trees, following the familiar thunk of an ax landing in the old pine stump behind the house. She brushed thick branches to the side and emerged on the far side of the clearing behind the house.

  Gilbert heaved the ax over his shoulder, straining the cotton T-shirt he wore in the bright afternoon sun.

  “We have enough.” Monica pointed to the large pile of split wood stacked in the notch of twin cedars behind the back porch.

  Gil turned to her, squinting into the sun. “I know, but what else are we going to do with all this dead wood?”

  Monica looked around and saw the logs scattered through the clearing. “What happened?”

  Gilbert shrugged. “Just time. Everything dies eventually.”

  A manzanita bush lay on its side, the twisted red branches like skeletons against the underbrush. “But it was all alive.”

  “And now it’s dead.” He lifted the ax and placed another log on the old stump. “Don’t get upset, babe. That’s the way it goes.”

  Twin cedars lay across the firepit, toppling the carefully placed stones that ringed the circle. Monica walked through their backyard in confusion. “But our house…”

  “Look.” He pointed to the fresh green saplings waving in the breeze. “New ones are already growing.”

  Monica felt like crying. “But I want to keep the old trees. They were beautiful, and they shaded the house.”

  He walked over and put his arm around her shoulders. “These will grow too. They’re different, but they’ll grow. They’ll shade the house.”

  The dead trees around her seemed to multiply before her eyes. “I don’t want to lose them all!”

  “You won’t.” Gil pointed toward a stand of young pines that were already reaching the top of the house. “Look at that. See?”

  “Gilbert, I don’t want to lose all these trees.” A knot of dread tightened in her chest. “They’ve been around the house since before it was built. These are important trees. The house won’t be the same if they’re not here.”

  A crash over her shoulder made Monica turn. Gilbert was already there, walking toward a fallen sugar pine with a chain saw in his right hand. “Babe, forests die. If you don’t cut the dead parts away, the new things won’t have a chance to grow.”

  “Why are you doing this?” She stomped her foot, crushing a new pine beneath her boot. “I don’t want all this.”

  Gilbert turned and his smile was soft. “I know you don’t think you do. But I promise you’re going to love it, babe.”

  She felt the wind brush against the tears on her cheeks. “No. I want things back the way they were. I want what I had. I want our old trees.”

  He pointed to the pile of firewood. “They’re all still there. They’re going to keep you warm while the other trees grow. Trust me. You’re going to be fine.”

  “But the house—”

  “The house is strong.” Gilbert walked across the clearing, bent down, and kissed her forehead. “This house? This is what you and I built, babe. It’s real strong. Nothing is gonna make this house fall, okay? Trust me, the new trees are going to be beautiful. They’re gonna grow so fast you won’t even feel like you missed anything.” He pointed to the woodpile. “And if you do, just remember they’re still all there.”

  Monica sat on the wood-chopping stump and stared at a small evergreen pushing up from the forest floor. “It’s not the same. Nothing will be the same.”

  “But that’s okay.” He walked toward the fallen sugar pine, throwing her a grin over his shoulder. “Just because it’s different doesn’t mean it won’t be great.”

  Monica was still thinking about the dream while she and Robin drove to visit Kara in Bridger City. So far the girl was responding well to the burn treatments, and the doctors were talking about different courses of therapy to best repair the damage.

  Robin was chattering about something to do with antique rugs, and Monica was not paying attention.

  “…so I told her a dealer can print up any kind of certificate that he or she wants, but that doesn’t mean—”

  “Have you ever seen Gilbert’s ghost?”

  Robin stopped talking completely.

  Monica forced her eyes to remain on the road.

  “Why are you asking that?” Robin asked.

  “I had a dream about him.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah.” Monica changed lanes to avoid a merging big rig. “It didn’t feel like a vision. But it didn’t feel like a dream either.”

  “Have you ever dreamed about him before?”

  “Of course.” Monica thought of the countless dreams she’d had of her late husband. She’d dreamed about him being back, about the kids being young again, even about their fights. “But this was different. I can’t explain how, it just was.”

  “But you don’t think it was a ghost?”

  “Do you ever see ghosts in dreams?”

  “No. They look corporeal to me.”

  “Yeah. So this wasn’t like that. So I don’t think it was Gilbert’s ghost.”

  Robin let out a long breath. “Good.”

  “Why good?”

  “Wouldn’t that be… upsetting?”

  Monica shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it would be flattering.”

  “No.” Robin shook her head. “Most ghosts aren’t happy spirits. I mean, they’re not all violent like Rosemarie, but they have something unfinished here or they don’t feel like they can move on for some other reason.”

 
; “And you don’t think Gil had that?”

  “I don’t want to think he did,” Robin said. “I know his life was shorter than we expected—”

  “Like, half as long.” Gilbert had died when he was only forty-four. “He was barely in middle age.”

  Robin’s voice was soft. “I know, Monica.”

  She felt her throat tighten, but she was determined not to cry. She’d cried plenty, and she was done with that. “So maybe he’d think there was something left here to do. Maybe he’d want to see his kids.”

  Robin was silent for a long time. When she finally spoke, her voice was slow and thoughtful. “I think Gil knew the kids were in a good place. Even Jake.”

  Monica snorted. “Jake was a ski bum.”

  “But he was happy. He’s always been a good guy. Even if he wasn’t the most ambitious, he’s always been a good person who cares about people. Sam and Caleb had their own plans. Sylvia was ready to conquer the world.”

  “And he missed it,” Monica said quietly. “He did all the hard stuff and missed the reward.”

  “What are you talking about? You were the reward.” Robin angled her shoulders toward her. “You and Jake and Sylvia and Caleb and Sam. You were the reward. What did he miss out on? His life was full and joyful and happy, Monica.”

  She blinked the tears away. “But he should have had longer.”

  “I know. And it sucks that he didn’t. It sucks for both of you.”

  Monica sniffed and reached for a tissue in the center console. “Do you think it would be disrespectful to Gilbert if I went out with Gabe Peralta?” She snorted. “God, can you imagine? Their names both start with G. I’d end up calling Gabe the wrong name constantly. The kids are bad enough.”

  “Why would you ask if it was disrespectful? It’s been four years. You went out with West.”

  Monica shrugged. “West was… fun.” In fact, West had been calling her again, and while Monica didn’t mind the ego boost, she wasn’t exactly in a party-time mood.

  “He wasn’t serious.”

  “No.”

  Robin paused. “But Gabe Peralta might be.”

  Monica shrugged again, but she didn’t say anything.

  “Yeah,” Robin said quietly. “That makes sense.”

  “I just… I felt ready to date. I know I’m young. If I’m anything like my grandmother, I’m going to live until I’m ninety-seven. I’m not even halfway there.”

  “And your grandma outlived three husbands,” Robin said. “Each one a few years younger than the last. Grandma Trujillo was an icon.”

  Monica frowned. “She really was. So I’m not even halfway done with life. I don’t want to be alone all that time. But I don’t want to fall into some relationship that’s destined to—”

  “Whoa!” Robin leaned forward and caught her eye. “Brakes please. Not literally, we’re still on the highway, but you know what I mean. Brakes on this destiny crap.”

  Monica rolled her eyes. “It’s kind of hard not to believe in destiny when I literally see the future, Robin.”

  “You dreamed about sex with the man! Maybe all you are destined to do is have a really hot affair! Maybe that’s all it’s going to be and you’re supposed to just live a life of sexy adventures because you’ve been responsible for literally the entire rest of your life.”

  Okay, that didn’t seem all that bad. Sexy adventures.

  Oh shit. She didn’t know how to have sexy adventures.

  “But what if I like him? What if I don’t want to just have a sexy affair?” She felt her cheeks getting hot just thinking about it. “I don’t think I’m even capable of having a fling. That’s probably why I haven’t called West back.” She glanced at Robin. “I’m not Val. I’m not daring and cool.”

  “You are so cool.”

  “I drive a minivan. And I like it. When this one dies, I’m probably going to go out and get the exact same model. ’Cause I am not cool.”

  Robin patted the dashboard of the car. “The minivan is the utility belt of vehicles, and you know who wears a utility belt?”

  Monica frowned. “Electricians?”

  “Batman.”

  Monica snorted. “You’re crazy.”

  “I’m right.”

  She took the turnoff for the hospital and followed the signs for short-term parking. “I don’t know what to do about Gabe Peralta. I’m attracted to him. He’s very open about being attracted to me. I don’t know what to do with him.”

  “I recommend kissing him,” Robin said. “Start there and see what happens.”

  “Okay.” Why the hell not? “Once we figure out what’s happening with Kara, stop the town from burning down, and get rid of a vengeful ghost, I’ll kiss Gabe Peralta.”

  Robin pointed her phone at Monica. “Say that again. I’m going to record it.”

  “Do you want me to leave you in Bridger without a ride? Because I will.”

  “I can’t really explain it.” Kara glanced at the door that Jake had just exited. “I feel like my brain is playing tricks on me. I’ve taken antianxiety medication for years, Monica. I’ve told you—”

  “This is not about your anxiety, honey.” Monica took the hand that didn’t have tubes running out of it. “Do not feel like this is your fault or that this has anything to do with your mental health, okay?”

  Robin sat next to Kara, her purse stuffed next to her on the seat and a drawing pad open on her lap. “So we’re going to tell you some stuff that might make us seem a little weird. But we have a feeling that you might be a little relieved too.”

  Kara’s face was even paler than when they’d first come in. “There’s something weird about Glimmer Lake, isn’t there? This all started when I moved here.”

  “Can I ask why you moved here?” Monica asked. “It might help explain a few things.”

  Kara shrugged a little. “I guess it was partly to do with my dad. I didn’t know him much—his whole family is kind of a mess—but I knew they were from around here, and I was curious. I love hospitality work and I love the mountains, so when I saw the opening at Russell House, it kind of felt like…”

  “Destiny?” Monica asked.

  The corner of Kara’s mouth turned up. “Yeah.”

  Robin nodded. “Okay. So you moved here, and when did you notice that things started getting…”

  “Weird.” Monica finished the thought. No need to scare the girl right away.

  “Okay.” Kara took a slow breath and let it out. “Pretty quickly. My insomnia got a lot worse, and that’s part of why I take anxiety medication, so I talked to my doctor in Sacramento—I haven’t found anyone here yet—and he told me that it wasn’t uncommon when you have a big move, so we adjusted my meds, and that seemed to work for a while.”

  “Okay.”

  “But then… I think it was the beginning of summer, when things started to get really busy.” Kara’s voice fell back. “I had these crazy dreams. I’d been hiking with a friend I met at Bailey’s and we were following all these old trails. We’d found this beautiful trail that led along the creek. There was this cabin there. I took so many pictures because it was really beautiful. Abandoned, but just covered in moss and ferns. So gorgeous.”

  “You have pictures?”

  She nodded. “When Jake gets back, he can show you. I sent some of them to him.”

  “Cool,” Robin said. “What happened after you found the cabin?”

  “I can’t say for sure, but… it almost felt like someone was following me. Does that sound crazy? Like that feeling you get that someone is watching you sometimes, you know?” She shook her head. “And I know I was probably imagining things, but then the other stuff started happening.”

  “What other stuff?” Monica pulled up a chair and sat next to Kara.

  “I had these really vivid dreams that felt like they were from the old West. I was living in a cabin and cooking at an old woodstove. I was boiling water for laundry and hanging it to dry. I was baking bread in a stone oven. Like all t
his pioneer stuff, you know? And I don’t know how to do any of that.”

  “But in the dream, you did.”

  “Totally.” Kara’s fingers twisted in the sheets. “And then it started getting stranger. I’d wake up in places I didn’t remember going to. My truck would be outside, but I had no memory of driving. And then the fires started.” Her eyes filled with tears and she bit her lip so hard it looked like it was on the edge of bleeding.

  Monica stroked her arm. “Kara, be calm. No one blames you for any of this.”

  “There was a man in my dreams. An older man with a long white beard and a terrible temper. I can’t remember him ever hitting me in the dreams, but like… I knew he would. In the dream, I knew he would beat me if everything wasn’t done exactly right.”

  Robin asked, “Do you think you could describe him?”

  Kara shrugged. “I mean, does it matter? He was part of a dream.”

  “We think it does matter,” Monica said. “We think what you’ve been dreaming about haven’t just been dreams. They’re memories.”

  Kara frowned. “Whose memories? Not mine.”

  Robin and Monica exchanged a look.

  Monica said, “Her name was Rosemarie Sanger. She was killed in a fire in the 1930s that burned much of the town of Grimmer, and it’s part of the reason they flooded it to create Glimmer Lake.”

  Kara’s mouth dropped open, but she didn’t say a word.

  Robin added, “We don’t know for sure, but we believe Rosemarie started the fire, possibly to try to kill her father. Unfortunately, it also ended up killing her little sister, Bethany. It’s Bethany’s ghost that I can see and talk to.”

  “And I have been having visions,” Monica said. “Premonitions about a fire destroying Glimmer Lake. Visions of a cabin in the woods that’s covered in moss and near a waterfall or a stream.”

  Kara narrowed her eyes, but she still didn’t speak.

  “Bethany,” Robin continued, “is worried about Rosemarie, who’s very angry and very protective. Something happened to wake her up. Ghosts can’t start fires. They’re not strong enough. But they can influence people.”