Dreamer (The Seeker Series Book 2) (17 page)

“Autopsy photos. Personal effects. Nothing you need to see.”

I tended to agree with him, but something stopped me. “I think I do, Brian,” I said quietly.

“You sure?” I nodded and he silently handed the folder over to me.

The first set of photographs was of the skeletal remains. It wasn’t disgusting, like a recent dead body would be, but the starkness of what was left, nothing more than a collection of dark brownish bones, arranged into the semblance of a body, with a skull at the top, was incredibly sad. This collection of discarded bones was all that was left of a once-vibrant 18-year-old with her whole life ahead of her. The skull showed the damage that had caused her death. To the side of the body was another tiny collection of bones: Ashley and Scott’s baby. I had expected to be unable to hold back tears when I saw it, but was surprised by the intense anger burning inside my body. Somebody had cut short these two precious lives before they even had a chance to live. I made a silent vow, right there at the table:
‘I will find out who killed you and your baby, Ashley. I know it wasn’t Scott. I will find out who did this, so you can rest. I swear it.’
I know she heard me. She was there with us, just like I dreamed she had been with me ever since I opened her book in the hotel in Galway. I turned to the last set of photographs, her personal effects. The tattered remains of her shoes and clothing were lying beside a crusted pendant on a chain. I had to look closely to be able to tell what it was: a small, silver dolphin. Of course. She had loved the Madeleine L’Engle novel,
A Ring of Endless Light
. It was all about dolphins.

“Brian, where is this necklace now?”

“In evidence. Why?” he asked.

“Is there any way we could take it to Mrs. Hayes? Could we give it back to her?”

He looked at me with his head tilted for a second. “Yeah, I think we could do that. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

I flipped through the pictures again and shook my head. “It’s not here. Is this everything that was found near the body?”

“Yes. Why? What are you not seeing?” He reached to take the pictures and look at them.

“Well, it’s just that if she disappeared between school and home, she would have had school books and probably a backpack or bag of some kind. She would have a purse or something. Girls always have all sorts of crap with them. Where is Ashley’s crap? Why didn’t she have anything with her? Or if she did, where is it?”

Brian looked back and forth between me and the photos before nodding. “Shit. I can’t believe no one thought of that. Good catch, kid. You think her mom will have some information about what Ashley usually carried.” He said this last bit as a statement. “I’ll find out about the necklace and then we’ll go talk to Mrs. Hayes, okay?”

I nodded.

“Let’s get back to your mom. I probably need to approve of some wedding invitations and taste cake or something. I’m starting to wish I had insisted on eloping to Vegas,” he grumbled.

***

Now that Tara was with Mat, I was curious to find out who Rémy had his eye on. That’s the problem with friends pairing up: you want to see everyone happily settled in a couple. I watched him closely, but he didn’t seem to be flirting with anyone in particular. Knowing Rémy, if he wanted a girl, all he would have to do is crook his finger and one would come running, at least at this school. So, being the intrepid investigator I clearly was, I decided to take things up a notch.

“Rémy, Tara and I are hosting a little party this Friday and we want you to come,” I said as we met before school.

“Of course, chérie. Tell me when and where. I would not miss it for the world,” he said this while kissing my cheeks in greeting, which still made Jack growl. I’m 99.9% sure that’s why Rémy continued to do it.

“Well, feel free to bring a date,” I suggested.

He smirked knowingly. “Well, I’ll see what I can do. Do you have any suggestions?”

“No. Isn’t there anyone you want to bring? I could, you know, invite her.”

“No, mais no. Don’t go to any trouble for me.” He laughed. “I’ll probably come alone.”

I looked to Jack for help. He shrugged. “I got Mat and Tara together. You’re on your own for this.”

“You are seriously taking credit for that? Unbelievable!” He laughed. “Rémy, who is it? Come on, tell me,” I wheedled. “I could help.”

“Do you honestly think a Frenchman needs an American girl’s help in getting a date?” he asked, appalled. “No. How about you are surprised on Friday?”

“Fine. If you don’t want my help…” I tried to sound offended.

“I really don’t, chérie.”

***

I had another appointment to meet with Cassie that afternoon. She was trying to help me work on my communication methods, specifically my ability to mentally talk with other Seers without touching them. I was now fairly adept at reading what someone was thinking about if I touched them, frequently practicing on Mom and Grams. Jack and Tara were frequent volunteers, as well, but I hesitated to use them because they had no ability to see anything I was thinking. It made me feel weird to use them like that. Plus, the impressions I got from non-psychic-type people were really fuzzy. The person I had the greatest success with was Rémy. He and I seemed to have a strong psychic connection, a fact I didn’t stress too much as it irritated Jack. Rémy was far better at it than I was, perhaps because he was
so
much older, something I delighted in teasing him about. He was also very good at blocking me out, which annoyed me and kept me from finding out which girl he was interested in. I was currently bugging him about teaching me how to do it better; I still had to concentrate so hard to keep anyone blocked.

Rémy had been adamant I not tell anyone besides Jack he was a Seer. He relented and let me tell Tara, but refused to countenance the idea of Grams, Mom, and Cassie knowing about him. We both had great hopes the two Seer clans could be unified someday, but he wasn’t ready to expose himself right now. Our clan believed his clan had kidnapped and stolen the Oracle, which, according to Rémy was not true. He said she had run away with her lover, a member of the Gaulish clan. He should know, as the Oracle was his grandmother. He felt it was imperative we keep between ourselves for now the fact the clans had connected. I wasn’t sure this was the best idea and thought perhaps Rémy was letting his love for spy thrillers interfere with real life.

“All right, Ally, let’s get started,” Cassie began briskly, bringing me back to what I was supposed to be doing. “We’ll get warmed up by doing some readings with you touching me. Then we’ll move apart slowly.” Cassie was also very good at blocking out what she didn’t want me to see or what she considered inappropriate, so all I got were some scenes of her shopping and planning for her own wedding, which was coming up about the same time as my mother’s. I’d had all I could take of nuptial preparation, so I focused on other, more interesting things in her mind, managing to get through some of her blocking attempts to see her and Gregory, her fiancé, kissing. “Okay, that’s enough of that. You’ve obviously been practicing,” she said in an irritated manner.

“Sorry. This mind-reading stuff crosses some serious personal boundaries. I’ll try to be more careful,” I said contritely.

“That’s good. Why don’t we move on to the next step?” she replied a bit coolly.

“Yeah. Good idea.”

She moved across the room and sat down on the sofa. “You stay there and concentrate on what I’m thinking—only on what I’m thinking.”

“Okay, okay,” I muttered. Jeez, I said I was sorry. I closed my eyes, focused intently, and heard…nothing. Absolutely nothing. I opened my eyes and peeked at Cassie. She met my gaze with raised eyebrows. I closed mine again, clearing my throat. “I feel ridiculous.”

“Concentrate, Ally. This is really important. You must learn to develop your powers if you are to take your place as the next Oracle.”

“Well, maybe I’m not the next Oracle. Maybe you and the council are wrong, did you ever think of that?” I sounded petulant, but I couldn’t help it.

“Do you believe that, Ally?”

“I don’t know what I believe,” I whispered.

“I know,” said Cassie sympathetically. “For now, let’s try this.”

I tried again. I concentrated, fiercely, trying to see into Cassie’s mind while sitting across the room from her. For the longest time I saw nothing, no matter how hard I tried. Then, finally, I got the slightest glimmer of a thought from her. She was thinking about balancing her checkbook and cleaning her toilets. I opened one eye and peered at her. “Seriously? I said I was sorry.”

“Yes, well, I don’t want to parade my love life around for your vicarious pleasure.”

“Ouch.” Sensitive much?

“Okay, why don’t we call it a night? I think you’ve made great progress, Ally. Keep practicing.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“
The
weight of this sad time we must obey;

Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.

The oldest hath borne most: we that are young

Shall never see so much, nor live so long.”

–Shakespeare –King Lear (5.3.325)

Brian and I had an appointment to see Mrs. Hayes early in the week. He picked me up after cheerleading practice and we drove over together.

“Are you as sick of all these wedding plans as I am?” I asked as we pulled away from the curb in front of the high school. On days like these, when I had something to do after school, Jack or Tara would pick me up in the mornings so I wouldn’t have to take my car back home before heading out with Brian.

“Yeah, but do not repeat that to your mother, okay? I want her to have the wedding of her dreams, and I know it’s stressful planning one so quickly.”

“I’ve said it before, but you’re a good guy, Brian Keller, you know that?” I said, somewhat grudgingly.

“Why do you have to sound so surprised by that?” he asked.

“Don’t take it personally, Brian. The teenage daughter is supposed to give the new guy in her mom’s life a hard time. It’s in the script.”

He laughed. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t get the memo. So, what are your goals for this afternoon in questioning Mrs. Hayes?”

“I get to question her?” He nodded. “Wow. Okay. Well, I guess I’m hoping she remembers what Ashley carried around with her—you know, a purse, a backpack, or whatever. I think we need to know what happened to her stuff. It might tell us something about where she was that last afternoon before she was killed.”

“You’ve got the makings of a pretty good detective, Ally.”

“Thanks,” I said, a bit surprised. I never expected to get along with him so well. Am I supposed to like the guy who knocked up my mom? Oh, well, water under the bridge, I guess.

“So, what are your plans for the future? Career-wise, I mean,” he asked.

“You know, I’m not absolutely set on anything yet. It sounds kind of lame, but I might be interested in teaching.”

“Why is that lame? Your mother is in education,” he said.

“I don’t know. It doesn’t seem ambitious enough, somehow.”

“I don’t know about that. It seems like a great career choice to me,” he argued.

“So says another under-paid civil servant,” I pointed out, reminding him how he had once described himself.

He chuckled. “Yeah, very true. But life’s not all about money. I make enough to get by. I guess it comes down to what is really important to you.”

“Hmm.” We arrived at the Hayes’ residence and were invited in by Ashley’s mother. Once we had tea in front of us, I took the dolphin necklace out of my bag and handed it to Mrs. Hayes.

She took it with a confused look. “What…how did you get this?” she whispered.

Brian chimed in. “It was found with Ashley’s remains, ma’am. We thought you should have it.”

I reached out to lay my hand on her arm, unintentionally picking up waves of sadness rolling off her. “Mrs. Hayes, we don’t want to upset you, but we were wondering if you remember what else Ashley would have carried with her on a regular school day. Did she take a purse or a book bag of some sort?”

She continued to stare at the dolphin pendant, oblivious to my question. Tears were streaking down her cheeks. “Scott gave this to her for Christmas. He knew she loved dolphins.” She set it down on the table and reached for a tissue. “I’m sorry. This brings back so many memories. What was your question?”

“What kind of purse or bag did Ashley carry with her to school? Do you remember anything about that?” I repeated gently.

“Well, I don’t remember much about her purse although she always carried one, but I do remember her backpack because it was so silly,” she said, laughing slightly as she wiped her eyes.

“Silly?”

“Yes. She insisted on carrying what was really a child’s backpack, plastic, with bright colored dolphins all over it. She loved it. I guess it was in style, I don’t know.”

“Ally?” Brian asked, clearly at a loss.

I finished Googling dolphin backpacks on my phone and showed the picture I thought most likely to Mrs. Hayes. “Does this look familiar?”

She gasped. “Yes, it looked exactly like that! How did you find it?”

“It’s a Lisa Frank design,” I said as I clicked on the image and read. “It was a company that was popular in the 80s and 90s. It’s still kind of popular, mostly with young girls.” I showed the picture and brief article to Brian. “Mrs. Hayes, where is her backpack and purse? Neither was found with Ashley.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“You never found them here at the house?”

“No. She left with them that morning.”

We thanked Mrs. Hayes and left her with Ashley’s necklace and more sadness than a mother should have to bear.

“Brian, this means she never got home that afternoon, that she was taken somewhere between school and home, doesn’t it?” I was excited by our discovery.

“Hold on. It certainly looks like it, but I need to do some more checking. We have photographs of Ashley’s room in evidence. I need to go over them carefully to make sure Mrs. Hayes is remembering accurately,” Brian cautioned. “I’ll let you know, okay?”

***

On Wednesday evening, Jack picked me up after he got off work to take me to dinner. It was so good to be with him again and I was thankful there was very little awkwardness since our breakup, although he was being overly nice, bringing me frequent presents, which needed to stop. For the most part, it was as if we had never broken up.

“Jack, you don’t have to bring me a present every time you pick me up for a date,” I objected as he presented me with a small gift bag.

“Shh,” he said as he kissed me. “It’s more for me than you.”

“Ooh, you bought me lingerie?” I asked hopefully.

He laughed. “No, little smart ass. I meant it makes me feel better.”

I opened the package to find a small bag of my favorite gummy bears, the good kind from Germany. “Mmm, you do know my weaknesses.” I set the gift on the entry table and took his hands, leading him to sit with me on the couch. “All right. Jack, you don’t need to apologize any more. Let’s move past our breakup, okay? I know why you needed time. I never stopped loving you, you never stopped loving me, so let’s forget it. I want to move on. Please?”

He looked deeply into my eyes. “Fine. Let me say it one last time and then I swear I’ll never mention it again. Alethiea Grace Moran, I am so sorry I broke up with you. It was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. I will never pull away from you like that again. You are the most important thing in my life.” He leaned forward and kissed me deeply before pulling back. We had both agreed to cool it with our physical relationship since the night we got back together and came way too close to having sex on my grandmother’s kitchen counter. Neither one of us was ready for that and wanted to concentrate on strengthening our relationship for now. I think Jack still felt guilty about that episode. When we let our kisses get out of control, we tended to forget all about why it was a good idea to refrain from going too far. At least I did; Jack was usually better at calling a halt, except when he wasn’t. That night in my kitchen gave me a small glimpse into the passion he kept bottled up inside. I was looking forward to the day when we didn’t have to hold back anymore.

We went to a casual deli in the uptown area for dinner and then walked around the shopping center, holding hands and window-shopping. The weather had turned mild, making it a perfect night for strolling and enjoying time together. We stopped in at Lush, a wonderful place that specialized in vegan bath and body products and I stocked up on my favorite body cream, then headed in the direction of Frost for some gelato. The only hitch in these lovely plans came when I realized I was not feeling well. At all.

“Can we sit for a minute, Jack?” I asked, already heading for a nearby bench.

“Sure. What’s up? Hey, are you okay, sweetheart?” he asked in concern as I leaned forward, putting my head between my knees. “Are you having a vision?” he whispered.

“Nope,” I choked out. “I think I’m sick. I need to go home. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault. Come on, let’s get you home.”

I had to sit down twice on the way to the car, trying desperately not to throw up in front of my boyfriend. Finally, Jack swung me up into his strong arms and carried me the rest of the way to his car, strapping me into the passenger seat. I was feeling too wretched to object.

We didn’t make it far before I cried, “Oh, God. Pull over, Jack!” I barely made it out of the car before barfing epically into some nearby bushes. Jack put the car into park and came over to hold my hair back. He handed me some napkins so I could wipe my mouth. “Jack, wait for me by the car. You don’t need to see this.” I was barfing again.

“Shh. Don’t waste your energy talking. I’m not going anywhere. Let’s get you home, querida,” he said as he scooped me up again and gently placed me in the passenger seat.

“Ohhh,” I groaned. I didn’t remember ever feeling this horrible and that includes how I felt after getting my head slammed into a trophy case. We made it home without any more vomit stops, thankfully. Jack found my keys in my purse and opened the door for us as I pushed him out of the way, running for the downstairs bathroom, barely making it to the toilet. He followed me, wetting a washcloth and wiping my face as I leaned helplessly against the shower stall. “Just let me die,” I cried.

“I don’t think so, babe. I think you’ve got food poisoning. You’re in for a really rough night. Where’s your mom and grandma?”

“I don’t know. I can’t think right now, sorry.” I fell over and curled up in the fetal position on the bath mat. “You can go, Jack. I’ll be fine.” He ignored me and began groping around in my pockets. “I’m really not in the mood, honey,” I groaned.

“Hilarious. Where’s your phone?” I rolled over and presented him with my backside. He took my phone out of my back pocket and began searching my contacts. “Adele? Yeah, it’s Jack. Ally’s sick, I think with food poisoning. No, we’re at your house. Of course. I’m not going anywhere. Yeah. See you soon.” He clicked off and pocketed my phone. “She’ll be home soon. Let’s get you up to bed.” He picked me up and carried me upstairs.

“Someday, I really hope I’m not sick or half-dead when you carry me to bed,” I said against his chest. I felt it rumble as he chuckled.

“How can you joke when you feel so awful?”

“Just gifted, I guess.” I tried to object when he began undressing me and helping me put on my pajamas. “I thought it would be a lot sexier when I finally got you to take my clothes off.”

“Yeah, me too.” He tucked me under my comforter, kissed my forehead, and went to scavenge some 7-Up or ginger ale. He brought back 7-Up and a large bowl in case I couldn’t make it to the bathroom. He sat on my bed, wiping my face with a cool washcloth, and then simply holding my hand.

“This is way above the call of duty for boyfriends, Jack. I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have to do this.”

“Hey.” He brushed my hair back. “It’s all part of the package, querida. I love you and will absolutely take care of you when you get sick. You would do the same for me. Now try to get some sleep, okay? I’ll stay until your grandma gets home.” I smiled and fell asleep, feeling extremely loved and coddled.

I spent one of the worst nights of my entire life, mostly hugging the toilet after a short nap. The next day I couldn’t begin to go to school and spent the day lying feebly on the couch, watching daytime television. I hope I never see Drew Carey and
The Price Is Right
again. I finally quit barfing around 2:00 a.m. when there was nothing more to heave. My super-awesome boyfriend stopped by on his way to school, bringing me purple Gatorade, my favorite. He must file away every random bit of crap I say, ready to produce the necessary info when the need arose. I sure as heck couldn’t tell you his favorite flavor, or if he even liked Gatorade. I needed to be a better girlfriend, clearly. I would get right on that as soon as I could keep some dry toast down.

“Now, I’m not going to text you today because I don’t want to risk waking you up, but you can text me anytime and I promise I will text back, no matter whose class I’m in.” He made sure my Gatorade was close at hand and I had my fluffy blanket from my bed. “I will come by tonight after I get off work and bring your homework.” He kissed the top of my head—I wasn’t about to offer my lips after a night of projectile vomiting—and left.

I slept until lunchtime and then sent a text to Jack. He FaceTimed me, saying everyone at lunch wanted to talk to me.

“Ally, how are you feeling? I miss you so much!” exclaimed Tara. She got really close to the screen and whispered, “You look terrible. Take a shower and put some makeup on before Jack gets there. Seriously.”

Dustin and Travis both crammed their faces into the screen. “Hey, Ally! Get better, okay? We miss you!”