Nightmares from Within (19 page)

Good to know we both sound like whiny ass kids.

“Oh? And how do you figure that? I thought you said you were never involved.”

Daniel let out a sigh and then proceeded to open my car door. I braced myself for a fight but it never came. “Come on, copper,” he said as he stepped back on the curb. “You and I have some things we need to discuss.”

I hesitantly got out of my car, closed the door and engaged the locks. “Where are we going?”

“There’s a coffee shop a few blocks up. I’ve got some stuff I need to tell you and I need you to listen with an open mind.”

I looked up at the sky and let out a groan. “Why does everyone keep saying that? It’s becoming a fucking trend.”

“Quit your belly aching and let’s go.”

We walked in silence for a few minutes as we headed for the coffee shop. Once there, I pulled the door open and was instantly hit by the welcoming scent of freshly brewed coffee. I’d already had four cups that day but was in desperate need of more. Since Taylor walked out of my apartment I hadn’t gotten more than an hour of sleep each night…not counting the night I passed out from my bourbon bender.

We placed our order and remained quiet while we waited at the counter. Once the barista called our names, we made our way over to a booth near the back where it was somewhat secluded.

“All right,” I started skeptically once we were both seated. “What is it you have to tell me?”

He ran a hand over the back of his neck and frown lines indented his forehead. Whatever he had to say wasn’t going to be good. “I know what Taylor told you,” he said in a hushed voice. “And I know you didn’t believe her.”

I opened my mouth to speak but he lifted a hand to stop me. “I’m not saying I blame you for doubting her but you have to know that what she told you…it’s all true, Jordan. There are things in this world that are beyond anyone’s comprehension. Just because you’ve never experienced something yourself, doesn’t mean it’s not true. Taylor’s had this gift since she was seven and it’s been my job all this time to watch over her.”

I was having trouble wrapping my brain around what he was telling me. “Like an instructor or something?” I asked lamely.

“You could say that. But think more along the lines of a guide. She had a shit childhood and I blame myself for not helping her when she needed it the most, but it was beyond my control.”

I could tell he wanted to say more, but for some reason, he wasn’t able to so everything he said came out rather cryptic.

“I don’t understand. If you were both kids how were you supposed to help her with the things that were going on?”

“That’s a question I can’t answer even if I wanted to. The answer is so far outside your realm of reality there’s no way in hell you’d believe me. Not yet anyway.”

I was growing more and more aggravated at his evasiveness. “Why don’t you try me?”

He picked up his coffee and took a long drink. “No can do, buddy boy. We aren’t here to talk about me. We’re here to talk about Taylor. I’m sure by now you’ve seen the locket she always wears?”

My head shot back at his question. It was freaky how intuitive Daniel was. “Yeah. How can you miss it? Every time she gets uncomfortable she messes with the damn thing.”

He leaned in like he was about to say something life altering. “That locket was her grandmother’s. She gave it to Taylor on her seventh birthday because she knew what Taylor was.”

I felt my brows shoot up to my hairline at his words. “Taylor’s grandmother had the same gift she does and she knew that once Taylor turned seven the visions would start. She tried to prepare her for what was about to happen but Taylor’s mom was a raging bitch who thought her own mother was loony so she wouldn’t allow them to see each other. Marilyn was the only person who knew what Taylor was about to start going through, yet her own daughter prevented her from giving Taylor the help she needed.”

I ran my hands through my hair and left out an exasperated breath. “Jesus Christ.”

“There are other things in her past that I can’t tell you, but I will give you this. Her real name isn’t Taylor Carmichael, its Lydia Taylor. She had it changed legally the minute she turned eighteen and got the fuck out of that hellhole. You look into Lydia Taylor and you may get some of the answers you need.”

He started to stand and anxiety began churning in my stomach. “Wait a minute. You can’t just dump shit like this on me then bail out. None of this makes any sense!”

He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and threw a couple bills on the table. “I’ve told you everything I can, Jordan. Just take the name I gave you and look into it.”

“How do you know all of this?” I asked frantically. I needed more answers.

“I can’t tell you that either.” He started to walk away but paused just outside the door. I watched as he turned around to say something else. “It’s not just a coincidence that you two were drawn together from the moment you met. There’s a reason for everything and you two didn’t just find each other by accident.”

With that little bombshell, he turned and walked through the door of the coffee shop, leaving me more confused than before.

One thing was for certain though. I was sure as shit going to look into Lydia Taylor.

The rest of my day was a complete wash. If I wasn’t thinking about Taylor, I was thinking about everything Daniel laid on me earlier. I ran a check on Lydia Taylor but wasn’t able to come up with much. There were articles about a girl named Jodi Harrington being abducted outside of her home and a few of them mentioned Lydia spreading rumors about the kidnapping months before it ever occurred, but seeing as they were both minors at the time, all of the official information was sealed. It looked like Lydia had been under the care of a Dr. Lansing since she was seven but I wasn’t able to obtain any of those files.

I was able to find one thing that might have been helpful though. In the records, there was a phone number for Charles and Julia Taylor. I’d written the number down before I left the precinct for the night, but once I got home all I could do was sit at my kitchen table and stare at the numbers I’d scrawled across the pieces of paper. Was I really going to call up these people and dig into Taylor’s past for information? It felt like such a skeezy thing to do but I didn’t see where I had much choice.

Daniel insisted that he was looking out for Taylor and he’d practically handed me this phone number on a silver platter. I glanced up at the clock and noticed that I’d been staring at the number for more than two hours.

No time like the present
, I thought as I picked up my phone and began dialing the Connecticut area code. The phone rang three times before a woman with a heavy accent answered. “Taylor residence.” She sounded Hispanic so at first I thought I’d misdialed.

“Uh…yeah. Um…” I stumbled through my awkward greeting before pulling myself together. “I’m looking for Mr. or Mrs. Taylor,” I stated, trying my best to sound authoritative.

“Hold please,” she said sounding bored.

I sat there for several minutes listening to people hustling around on the other end of the line before someone finally picked the phone back up.

“This is Julia Taylor,” a harsh, disinterested voice said through the phone. I could only imagine how Taylor felt growing up with this woman as a mother. She’d only spoken four words and it was already evident that she was a total ice queen.

“Um, yes, Mrs. Taylor. My name is Jordan Donovan. I’m with the Seattle police department.” I was eager to get as much information from this woman as I could so I introduced myself as an officer thinking it might soften her towards me somewhat. I was wrong. “I was hoping we could discuss your daughter, Lydia Taylor.”

She made a sound that could only be described as a snort through the receiver before asking, “What kind of trouble has that girl caused now?”

I was thrown at her automatic assumption that Taylor had done something wrong. “I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that she’s in some sort of trouble. That wasn’t my intention, Mrs. Taylor.”

“Officer Donovan, I don’t assume Lydia is
in
trouble. I’m confident that she has
caused
trouble. That’s all she has ever been good for.”

My spine stiffened at the arctic chill blowing through the phone. “Mrs. Taylor, I’m not calling because she’s done anything wrong. I’m strictly calling as a friend. I had a few questions and I was hoping you’d be able to shed some light on Taylor…I mean Lydia for me. I’m concerned about her.”

Julia Taylor scoffed on the other end and I knew that calling her was a mistake. It was evident in her inflection that she wasn’t going to lift a finger in an attempt to help her only child. “Officer Donovan, you sound like a smart man. The only advice I can offer you about my daughter is to stay away from her. She’s a one woman wrecking crew. All she’s ever done in her life is cause destruction. She made up ludicrous stories as a child strictly for attention and almost destroyed her father’s political career.”

“Are you talking about Jodi Harrington?”

Mrs. Taylor remained silent for several seconds. “I see you’ve done your homework. I’m sorry but I don’t like to speak about that incident.” She said with such finality that I knew I’d hit the nail on the head. “Lydia humiliated me and her father with her insane ramblings,” she continued. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to not only have one, but two mentally ill people in your family?”

“But she isn’t mentally ill,” I protested. How a person could be so cold as to refer to their own flesh and blood as an embarrassment was beyond me. “I’ve gotten to know her pretty well. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with Taylor’s mental health.” I didn’t realize how strongly I believed that to be true until I actually spoke the words.

“So she goes by Taylor now? How clever,” she offered with a cruel laugh. “Don’t let the pretty little package fool you, Officer Donovan.
Taylor
is nothing but trouble. And if I’m being honest, not worth the time and effort you seem to be putting into her.”

“Wow, when she said you were a cold hearted bitch I really thought she was exaggerating but after spending thirty seconds on the phone with you I can believe it. I’m sure there’s a special place in hell just for you. Have a good evening.” With that, I hung up.

I wasn’t going to get anything useful from that evil bitch, and it took a lot more self control than I was willing to give to listen to her spew her bullshit about Taylor.

My determination strengthened after talking to Taylor’s mother. I was going to prove that I wasn’t anything like those people. I was going to show Taylor that she could count on me no matter what…and I figured I knew just the way to do that.

I picked up my phone and dialed the number by heart. “This is Officer Donovan. I need a car on a Cassandra Sinclair.”

Taylor

“Are you ever planning on talking to him or are you just going to keep staring out the window every damn day?” Daniel asked as he looked over the menu with a bored expression.

I reached over and slapped him in the back of the head with my order pad. “Mind your own business or no more discounted meals for you.”

“You’re going to have to talk to him eventually, Taylor. He’s been sitting in his car during his lunch hour all damn week, staring in here like a sad little puppy. I’d almost feel bad for the guy if he wasn’t such a fuckwad.”

I looked out the window at Jordan sitting in his black Sequoia. “He’s probably watching me to make sure I’m not out killing anyone.” I muttered as I sat Daniel’s plate down in front of him.

“You don’t honestly believe he suspects you, do you?”

I let out a sigh and turned away from the window of the diner. “He practically said so himself. Right before he threw my crazy pills at me.”

“Taylor…” Daniel reached for my hand but I pulled out of his grasp. “He doesn’t think you’re involved.”

I looked around uncomfortably, hoping no one had overheard our conversation before sitting in the chair closest to him and leaning in. “Daniel, I know things that haven’t been released to the public, Jordan said so himself. What’s the point of me having all these details if all it’s going to do is make me a suspect? How am I possibly going to help anyone if I’m in prison?”