Murder In Her Dreams Read Online Free PDF Page B

up late the next morning and
had a brunch at TGIF. They had arrived early enough to avoid the
after-church rush. The hostess seated them quickly at a table by
the front window. A server appeared with a pot of coffee and, at
Rod’s nod, poured them each a cup. She then hurried off to the next
table.
    They made a quick foray to the serving bar
and returned with plates loaded with eggs, sausages, bacon,
pancakes, toast, and fruit, that is Rod did. Cassie had stopped
with eggs, toast, and fruit.
    “You look like hell.” Rod studied her over
the rim of his coffee cup.
    “I didn’t sleep well.” Cassie stared down at
the beige liquid in her cup. At home, her mirror had confirmed the
dark circles under her eyes, while her lank hair refused to do
anything except lie in separated locks no matter how much she
brushed it.
    “I know. I didn’t either.”
    Rod took her hand. “Look Cassie, I’m sure you
feel bad for the Lathams, but there isn’t anything you can do about
the kid. Every kidnapping ends in a cornfield somewhere. You don’t
know where your cornfield is or even if the kidnapper took the girl
to such a place. You’re too imaginative. Just forget it.”
    Cassie pulled her hand back and sat rubbing
her right thumb over the left. “I can’t. I know it may be a false
lead, but it looked and felt so real.” She looked up at Rod seeking
some sympathy and a little support.
    A frown etched his face. He stared back,
impassive as a stone. “Nothing you dreamed has to be real. They’ve
talked about the kidnapping on every newscast. The newspapers
carried the story including what the kid wore. Your subconscious is
just using that information. Stop talking like a wacko. You don’t
know anything more about it. How could you?”
    As always, Rod took comfort in the facts,
just the facts.
    “I’m not sure, but I think it meant
something. I feel I should tell someone.”
    Helplessness enveloped her. Rod sat across
the table, but he might as well be on another planet. He just
didn’t understand what she was trying to say.
    “Like what? Call the police?” He laughed.
“They’ll want to know where you got your information, and, when you
tell them in a dream, they’ll either laugh it off or arrest you as
a conscience-stricken accessory who withheld information.”
    He sipped his coffee. “You’d better forget
it.” He then picked up his fork and continued eating.
    Cassie said nothing more, but the thoughts of
Ellie and the cornfield nibbled at the edge of her consciousness
and refused to leave. She picked at her food.
    “This brunch is wasted on you.” Rod glanced
at the half-eaten food on her plate. “Next time just order a
regular breakfast.” Cassie nodded, too miserable to protest.
    That night she delayed going to bed until
well after midnight. Exhausted, she felt certain she wouldn’t
dream. She snuggled down to sleep. Rod had fallen asleep an hour
ago. The warm bed comforted Cassie as her eyes closed.
    * * * *
    “NO.”
    Cassie tried to cry out as she faced the
cornfield. No, don’t do this to me. It’s not my fault. I didn’t do
anything.
    Yes, she answered herself, you didn’t do
anything so it is your fault.
    At the edge of the cornfield, the dried
cornhusks crunched under foot. Fear pushed her forward, but weighed
her legs down and made each step a struggle. Making her way through
the rows of stalks made her breathe just a little faster.
    By the time she reached the middle of the
field, her breath came in ragged gasps as if she had run a long
distance. Then she stumbled.
    She squeezed her eyes closed, fearing to look
down. But she had to look. She had to know.
    When she peered down, staring blue eyes
reflected the moon high above. The blonde hair spread out like a
halo surrounded the face. The unclothed body looked virginal.
Cassie reached out a hand to touch the little girl and felt hard
flesh, cold and lifeless.
    She screamed and screamed. Her voice echoed
in the cold, empty night, but no one