Murder In Her Dreams
Read Murder In Her Dreams Online
Authors: Nell DuVall
Murder In The Shadows #1
by Nell DuVall
Published by
Melange Books, LLC
White Bear Lake, MN 55110
Murder In Her Dreams, Copyright 2014
Nell DuVall
ISBN: 978-1-61235-916-8
Names, characters, and incidents
depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or
are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales,
organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental
and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher. No part of
this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any
means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording,
or by any information storage and retrieval system, without
permission in writing from the publisher.
Published in the United States of
America.
Cover Design by Stephanie
Flint
Table of
Contents
MURDER IN HER
DREAMS
by Nell DuVall
Cassie Blake lives with guilt because she
failed to heed her dreams and a young girl died. Now, a year later
a handsome man and a vicious feral rabbit haunt her dreams. She has
no idea of the man’s identity. At first she dismisses the dream as
ridiculous, that is, until she discovers the man is real.
Acknowledgements
Thanks to Novels in Progress,
especially Sally Less and Barbara Westerviller — the Internet
Writing Workshop’s Lovestory members —
and various others who reviewed and
offered comments on this novel and others in the series.
Chapter
One
Cassie Blake tossed and turned, unable to
sleep. Maybe that late night chocolate bar and the cup of tea had
been a bad idea. She snuggled down under the chintz comforter and
focused on having lunch with her best friend Tula Mohr. She always
enjoyed that. Savoring the flakey scones and cream with raspberry
jam, she drifted to sleep.
* * * *
A man’s face hovered in the air. Rich, warm
mahogany hair curled around the face and flirted with the nape of
his neck. His closed eyes opened slowly. Earthy brown, they stared
back with stiff pride. His jaw jutted out, strong and patrician,
while his generous mouth quirked up at the corners. Not bad, not
bad at all.
He resembled no one she knew, not even a
movie or TV star. His unfamiliar features puzzled her. Only Tula
had that air of self-sufficiency. Attractive, but at the same time
intimidating, his intense dark eyes compelled her attention. They
challenged her and then laughed at her failure to do other than
stare at him, opened-mouthed. She struggled to blink, but his face
didn’t go away. Like the Cheshire Cat, he mocked her.
“Come on, Cassie, wake up.” She wanted to
take control of her dream and banish the persistent face, but she
didn’t know how. “You’re a dream, just a crazy dream.”
Then he smiled. His expression softened and
became more appealing. The look in his eyes changed from
challenging to tender and non-threatening. A strong hand with long
tapering fingers reached out to her. Her hand stretched to meet
his. Iron fingers grasped hers, but with gentleness, and pulled her
toward his hovering face.
A torso emerged. Square shoulders, a broad
chest in a bright fuchsia and teal shirt, and then more followed.
Sturdy thighs in a pair of snug fitting jeans that emphasized his
masculinity. Innate caution made Cassie want to hold back, but she
also wondered who he was and what he wanted.
Filled with promises, his gaze impelled her
forward. Unable to resist the insistence of his hands, she
approached closer.
Her heart beat against her rib cage. His skin
gave off a strong citrus-scented aftershave. His smiling lips
parted as he leaned forward and his arms surrounded her. Heat
enveloped her, sending fire through her veins.
His lips neared hers. A thrill raced though
Cassie from her toes to her fingertips. She wanted those demanding,
insistent lips on hers. Ready for his kiss, she took a quick
breath.
“What the hell?” The man pulled back and
stared down at his right leg.
Cassie’s eyes followed his. A large black
mass clung to his leg. As she peered down, long, laid-back ears and
a short, puffball tail emerged. Cassie blinked. The long ears and
fluffy tail of a black ... rabbit?
Rabbit? Cassie almost laughed, but her
laughter faded as the dream continued. Not a cuddly bunny but a
feral creature as big as a small Bull Terrier encircled his leg.
Sharp, curved claws extended from its paws. It clung to the man’s
leg like a Rottweiler locked on a fresh kill.
Air laden with mold and dampness filled her
nostrils — the scent of a dead cornfield waiting for winter’s icy
blanket. The odor grew ranker.
Her throat closed. She struggled to breathe.
The chill ate through her flannel gown. Shivers shook her. Then,
horrifying memories of ten-year-old Ellie Latham deepened the
cold.
The man shook his leg, but the creature held
fast. He shook harder. Still the rabbit clutched his leg, strong
talons digging into the fabric of his jeans. The man reached down
to pluck the beast away.
A low menacing grumble sounded. The creature
bared its long, white teeth. Those sharp, shiny incisors held her
spellbound. An aura of malevolence and evil rose from the creature
and poisoned the air.
She gasped for breath. Somehow, she knew this
nightmare creature meant to kill.
The rabbit gnashed its teeth. A stringy rope
of bubbles dripped from its mouth. Foam? Rabid animals foamed.
Killer animals.
Cassie looked for a weapon, but saw nothing
handy. She turned back to the man.
He stretched his hand down toward the
growling rabbit. The creature watched with glittering eyes. It
flattened its ears against its head. The growl became a roar.
Rumbling like an enraged bull, it leaped upward toward the man’s
exposed throat.
* * * *
Cassie screamed.
The echoing scream woke her.
She sat up. The image of the rabbit, its
teeth bared, its body bent in an arc as strong hind legs propelled
it upward, remained printed on her retina. She shut her eyes, but
the image stayed.
Her flannel nightgown, damp with sweat, clung
to her back. Her body shook in deep, quaking shudders.
She opened her eyes again to her familiar
room. The brass foot of the day bed gleamed in the gray light
seeping through the chintz drapes. The matching comforter lay on
the floor, hiding her fuzzy slippers and the rose and gray braided
rug.
For a moment longer, she stared at the room,
not yet awake. The uncertainty and fear the rabbit evoked still
imprisoned her.
Shaking, Cassie reached for her tatty
chenille robe. She pulled the robe tight, and the trembling eased.
With a heave, she tossed the bulky comforter back onto the bed. She
slid her feet into her slippers and stumbled to the bathroom.
Cassie gave her tangled brown hair a few
quick swipes with the brush and stared at the white face in the
mirror. Her usually rosy cheeks looked colorless, and her deep blue
eyes stared back, almost black.
“You need a good, strong cup of hot tea.”
Determined to raise her spirits, she dressed,
pulling on her favorite pink sweater and the matching floral skirt,
and hurried downstairs.
Sunlight flooded the kitchen with bright
yellow warmth. One cup of steaming Earl Grey later, she rejoined
the human race.
Just a nightmare. No more chocolate bars
before bed.
Chocolate and a rabbit? Okay, Easter was
coming, but this monster was no gentle Easter bunny with colored
eggs and candy.
Dreams, certain dreams, haunted Cassie. As a
child, she once dreamed the mail carrier fell to the sidewalk.
Later she heard her mother tell Mrs. Johnson the man had a heart
attack. Such dreams had troubled her adolescence, but then
subsided.
However, this last year after her dreams
about Ellie Latham, Cassie had feared sleep for months. Most of her
normal dreams involved people and places she knew. The dreams about
Ellie Latham had been different. So had this one.
Waking in an icy sweat and shaken by deep
shivers that had unnerved her brought back unwelcome memories. The
dream smell of death and decay had almost gagged her. It reminded
her too much of Ellie and the failure that followed.
Usually she dreamed in color, but not with
smells. Unpleasant odors had haunted the dreams of Ellie. The worst
part of those dreams had been that sense of watching evil waiting
to attack. That unnatural rabbit had it too.
If Cassie had acted on her dreams about
Ellie, the child might not have died. At the time, she hadn’t known
what to do. Like this nightmare, those dreams had held no meaning
for her. She had never seen Ellie before. Neither did she know this
strange man. As for the rabid creature, she wanted to forget it.
The menace of it still gnawed at her.
Cassie shuddered. She needed someone to
comfort her and tell her not to worry, a friendly face and a
sympathetic listener. Her friend Tula never laughed at dreams.
Cassie relied on her sympathy and understanding.
Tula knew a lot about dreams and how to
interpret them. Whether she owed that to her Somali mother or to
her Irish father, Cassie couldn’t quite decide.
Because it was Saturday, Cassie added lunch
at Tula’s Tea Room to her list of errands. An urgent need to
understand the dream and avoid a repeat of Ellie’s death drove her.
Talking with Tula would help determine what to do. Where others
might scoff or call it an ordinary nightmare, her friend would
understand. She might know what it meant or at least what the
rabbit signified. In any case, she was sure to have some
advice.
* * * *
By eleven-thirty, Cassie finished her
shopping and drove east to the Short North. The area, immediately
adjacent to the Columbus Convention Center and just south of the
Ohio State University, contained an eclectic collection of art
galleries, restaurants, and trendy shops. Tula had chosen to locate
her Tea Room here because the site lay close to her home in nearby
Victorian Village and offered a ready source of customers who liked
healthy food.
Cassie parked in the public lot a block from
the Tea Room. The bright sunshine and the artwork in the galleries
she passed buoyed her spirits.
Tula’s Tea Room occupied a converted
storefront with the name painted in grass green letters across the
front window. A lipstick red door marked the entrance. Inside,
Cassie passed two couples at tables near the front entrance.
The red, greens, and sunny yellows Tula
favored blended into a surprisingly harmonious whole. Green
tablecloths covered the square tables while alternating yellow and
red napkins marked each place. The black, ladder-backed wooden
chairs had green seats to match the tablecloths. Cassie always
glanced at the colorful series of bright watercolors by local
artists covering the walls, promising herself to buy one soon.
Tula wasn’t at her usual station by the
cashier’s counter, so Cassie picked up a menu and seated herself at
the back near the beaded doorway to the kitchen. A low rhythmic
chant floated from the block of speakers against the back wall.
Cloves, cinnamon, and mint perfumed the air.
