Dreamscape (36 page)

“Where are the pictures of Doug? They have to be here somewhere. What the hell are these?”

Thorpe slung the last picture down in disgust and walked out. The last he heard was her crying. “He promised me he’d destroyed these.”

Chapter Thirty

“Go ahead, Leila,” her instructor said. “Ask Cadette to canter.”

The confident little girl whistled. The horse answered her demands and rounded the corner of the corral into a canter. With satisfaction, Ramona watched her daughter ride her mount.

“She looks like a pretty good little rider,” a voice said from behind her. “From what I hear, can’t say she takes after you. Broke your arm falling off a horse, I understand. Pretty bad, never rode again.”

Bewildered, Ramona turned around. An older man walked up the trail to the riding ring. She didn’t recognize him.

“Let me introduce myself. Sam Caldwell. You probably don’t know me. I know you very well, though. I’m a former FBI agent, retired, forcibly I might add. Now I work as a profiler.” Sam stepped up to the fence. “She does have a good seat.”

Ramona relaxed her attention off her daughter’s activity, placing it fully on the man beside her. “Excuse my bluntness, Mr. Caldwell, but what are you doing here? Why is the FBI still keeping tabs on me?”

“Not the FBI, I assure you, Ms. Damsun,” Sam said. He leaned against the fence, turning slightly to look straight at Ramona. “I called. Your mother-in-law told me you’d taken Leila down here. I’m not up here for long. Paper work on the case. Interesting moving in with your mother-in-law.”

Ramona stood silently.

“Not a bad move. Having a family member to take care of Leila,” Sam said. “That’s not why I’m here, though. It’s a fault of mine, I’m afraid. I get off base at times.” He breathed out deeply. “I’m not sure if you realize that I had the opportunity to visit your home. Pretty area, really, rolling hills, wasn’t expecting….” He paused. “There I go again. Where was I? Your family. Interesting bunch of people.”

Ramona broke her gaze. Instead, she stared at her daughter. Leila had posted on top of Cadette.

“Believe it or not, Ms. Damsun, I’m here to help you, so to speak. I’m just beginning to grasp a better understanding of this dream walker thing. That’s what I do, analyze, decipher. Study the facts. Take, for instance, a crime scene can tell so much even after years. Look at your husband’s death scene. Went over the forensics. I found it interesting the entrance wounds on your husband’s suspected murderer, Morse Simpson. The projection of the shots should have come from someone of your height. What are you, five three? Even if he was on his knees, the projection wouldn’t fit.”

Ramona stared at him without emotion. Sam raised his eyebrow.

He knows.

“I’ll tell you what I think. I think that you did that dream walker thing. I think you found Rick stabbed, bleeding. I think you tried to bring him back like you did the chief. Yeah, I figured that out. I talked with Thorpe. What happened? You got there after Rick was stabbed. You had to make a split second decision. Morse Simpson stood in front of you. Rick’s gun lay beside his dying body. You picked it up and shot Morse twice in the head. You’re a Mississippi girl. I’ve never met a Southern girl that couldn’t shoot straight. You jumped in Rick’s mind to try to save him, but something went terribly wrong. You begged him not to, but he opened his eyes. You lost him, and by that time the demon escaped, the one that drove Morse Simpson.”

Ramona contained her emotions. She turned her back on her daughter as she moved over for only his ears to hear what she wanted to say. “Why are you telling me this? Have I not done enough for you people? I have my daughter to worry about now.”

“I know that, Ms. Damsun,” he said and leaned closer to her. “It’s what I fear; that’s why I’m here. I know the kind of man that you brought down. I followed the case for years. I brought Jackson into the mix. We found you, Ms. Damsun. From what I understand, correct me if I’m wrong, but you’ve gained strength with your guides. What do they call them, Pathfinder, Seeker? A little corny if you ask me, but if it works, who am I to question? But my point is that the dream walker becomes stronger the greater the threat, and that’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Why would you assume that?”

“Well, you see, Ms. Damsun, my little visit to your family was quite enlightening. I’m a Southern boy myself and I appreciate good old boys. These people I met with, your family, weren’t good old boys. Bad bad boys would be what I’d call them. Met your cousin, Sharon, beautiful thing to look at, I guess, but a cold bitch. Then there was good old Johnny running that little plantation of theirs.”

Ramona broke in. “I know my cousins.”

“Okay, okay, Ms. Damsun, I’ll get to the point. It was that damn husband of your cousin, Eric Crawford. President of some bank down there. Comes ripping in their driveway, rocks flying everywhere in his silver Porsche. Waved Sharon off as I talked to her.”

Ramona shook her head. “I don’t know him. She must have met him after I left.”

“He seemed to know you, or at least about you,” Sam continued. “As he kindly escorted me off his property, he left me with a message for you.”

Ramona waited for Sam to go on with what he had to say. She’d been gone for years….

“Here I go deciphering again, Ms. Damsun,” Sam said. Thinking with two fingers on his forehead, he flicked them off. “Just from the way he talked and me trying to fit everything together…. He was talking to me about this guy, Damien. Is he a demon of sorts? Why did I get the feeling he was the one that possessed that Morse Simpson fellow? The one you let go trying to save your husband.”

“Why would you say that?” Ramona asked, afraid of the next words out of Sam Caldwell.

“Because, as I was leaving, this Eric creep leans over into my car. He said: Tell Ramona that Damien knows. She had her chance. Damien knows.”

* * * *

Ramona had worked all day. She’d finally unpacked the last of the boxes from the move. It had only taken her three weeks to get everything unpacked. She hated moving, but she loved the house, a small cape, three bedrooms with an attached in-law apartment. Buying the house had been Miriam’s gesture. Ramona hadn’t wanted to admit that she hadn’t known where they would go after they had condemned her condo. During Ramona’s hospitalization, Miriam had cared for Leila. The two women had come to an understanding with their primary concern, Leila.

Miriam rented out the bottom half of her two family house in Roslindale. She offered up the life insurance money that Rick had left and gave it to Ramona, as it should have been. Everything fell into place when Ramona accepted a job down with the Cape hospital. The three of them needed each other and thus they moved down to the Cape together.

She pushed back the nagging feeling eating inside her. She’d deal with the warning Sam Caldwell had given her when the time came. She had to start living her life again. She checked her clock. Miriam had taken Leila out for the day, but she expected her back by now. She’d already left her a message on her cell phone. Ramona had time to take a quick shower.

The aroma of food carried up the stairs as Ramona dried off. Smelled like Chinese. Her stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten all day. She walked down the stairs fully expecting to find her daughter and Miriam full of news of the day’s events. She stood in the kitchen. No Leila, but the sound of the television in the living room echoed. She walked around the corner to find Douglas Thorpe sitting on her couch watching the Red Sox.

* * * *

Thorpe immediately stood in his tee-shirt and jeans. He clicked off the television set and smiled as he walked toward Ramona. She looked beautiful, more relaxed. The stress of the last few months had evaporated.

“I like your house. It suits you,” he said, stepping into the kitchen. “I knocked. I hope you don’t mind. I brought over dinner. I hope you haven’t eaten. Oh, and a housewarming gift.”

He chuckled lightly. “Scheming, really. My fault entirely. Miriam has taken Leila out for the weekend. They won’t be home until Sunday night. Molly and Liam went with them down to her sister’s place, Margaret. She has a place outside of Orleans. She’s been anxious to meet Leila. Leila has a lot of cousins to meet. And you have a lot of relatives that want to meet you.”

That look of hers returned. She hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“Yeah, I know. I know. You had to realize that this was going to happen, especially living with Miriam, you know. We have a big family. Everyone seems excited to meet you. I have to admit I’ve been pretty happy about you guys moving down here myself.”

“I don’t suppose this is the first time you’ve seen the house, either.”

He shrugged. “I might have helped Miriam pick a few houses out that might have been suitable. Would it surprise you to know I’ve been trying to look after you and Leila?”

He watched her reaction. He left out the part about his meeting with Jackson and Sam. Sam expressed his concern about a large threat that loomed in the distance. That’s where it was tonight, in the distance.

Tonight, he stood here alone with her, and at the moment that was all that mattered. He reached out. His hand touched her wet hair and trailed down her neck. She shivered.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “There’s so much you don’t know.”

“I know you know I’m no angel. I know that when I left you in the hospital it cut right through me. Then after the photo exchange….” His fingers massaged the back of her neck.

He paused. She’d been ready to protest. He shook his head. “Wasn’t too hard to figure out. I’m just not sure whether this is what you want or not. All I do know is that I don’t know anywhere I want to be other than here with you. No more excuses. I’m free. And I’m a believer. Some things are meant to be. We’re meant to be, Ramona.”

He slowly reached for her, his hands gently lifting her head towards him. She brought her hand to his face and caressed his cheek. He leaned in slowly and kissed her, at first soft and tender, then with a hunger that burned. His hands swept under her shirt to feel the warmth her body had to offer him.

He needed to be close to her, to touch all of her and be touched by her. She did not disappoint, responding to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her lips parted for him. He heard her gasp when he cupped her breast. She pulled back from him. Her eyes stared into his. She took his hand and led him up stairs.

* * * *

They lay back between the covers. Her body had betrayed her feelings and dissolved into passion, responding to his every touch. His arm wrapped around her naked body. She pulled him tighter as if he would disappear. He turned her over to face him and kissed her.

“I’m not going anywhere, Ramona. Trust me. No matter what. I told you I’ve seen. You aren’t getting me into anything I’m not already in. My pessimistic, beautiful, Ramona.” He pushed her hair out of her face and leaned down to kiss her, whispering, “I love you, Ramona Damsun.”

Her gaze locked with his. “I love you too.”

He read her, read her thoughts. She didn’t want to tell him she’d been more afraid to give herself to him than any demon she had ever faced. She wanted him, needed him, like nothing she had ever known. As if he could read her mind, he reached for her, touching her, taking her to a place she had only dreamed of going. Everything was right in the world.

Chapter Thirty-One

Eight months had passed since Callie Eckel had been brought in to Sinclair Rehab facility. Disappointing that no sign of her reviving from her coma had been detected. She lay asleep on her hospital bed facing the window. Jackson had arranged a scenic view looking over the arboretum, though the curtain was drawn now as night had fallen.

Jackson visited every evening unless he had a case out of town. He hadn’t noticed any improvement or any sign of a demonic presence. Ramona hadn’t given him any information he wanted to listen to.

“I’ve tried to reach her,” Ramona said. “I should have a strong connection, Jackson. There seems to be something blocking my attempts. It bothers me because she would have to be the one. What if…?”

Jackson had stopped her. He wouldn’t hear it, not an acceptable option. Callie lay in her state because of him. At the moment, the only option he had been left with was to wait. He looked down at her before he readied to leave. Sleeping Beauty. He gently touched her cheek and walked out of her room.

* * * *

The small Puerto Rican man, an older man who had worked for years supporting his family with his hard work, mopped the hospital floors as Jackson strode past. His son would enter college in the fall. The man felt a surge of pride with his first born. The long hours of working his two jobs had finally seen a reward. He whistled.

The man nodded to Jackson and continued his mopping, turning into Callie’s room. Inadvertently, the mop banged against Callie’s bed, shaking it slightly. He continued working, but a feeling overcame him. Someone watched him. He looked up. Callie’s eyes opened, startling the janitor. He jumped back. Her eyes flamed, red hot flames within the whites of her eyes.

He dropped his mop and ran down the corridor, screaming, “Diablo. Demonio. Rojo ojo. Diablo.”

Immediately, the receptionist responded to the janitor’s cries. A red light flashed over Callie’s door. Nurses and the doctor on call raced to her room.

* * * *

Jackson had almost made it out the door. He ran back. His heart pounded as he turned the corner back into Callie’s room.

He entered as the nurses and doctor stared at the patient. Jackson gazed upon the sight he had only prayed about. Callie sat up in her bed looking as if she’d just gotten up from a night’s sleep. Just as mysteriously as she fell into her coma, she’d awakened. Her face illuminated when she saw Jackson.