Dark Dreamer
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Dark Dreamer
by
Jennifer Fulton
2007
Dark Dreamer
2007 By Jennifer Fulton. All Rights Reserved .
ISBN 10: 1-933110-74-0
ISBN 13: 978-1-933110-74-5
This trade paperback original is published by
Bold Strokes Books, Inc.,
New York, USA
First Edition: Regal Crest Enterprises, 2005.
Second Edition: Bold Strokes Books, April 2007.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
Credits
Editor: Stacia Seaman
Production Design: Stacia Seaman
Cover Design By Sheri ()
CHAPTER ONE
Last night I dreamed of Iris, Phoebe said. I promised her I would come.
Cara looked up from the morning paper. Shall I call our friend?
Phoebes face fell into shadow. Perhaps it was my imagination.
Cara took her twins hand. You say that every time.
Where two paths crossed beneath the low silvery boughs of a huge birch tree, a woman lay on a quilt of brown and yellow leaves. Her hands were roped behind her back. Twigs and earth matted her honey-colored hair.
She lifted her head as Phoebe knelt. You found me. I knew you would.
Phoebe unfastened the rope and cradled her. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks. Im so sorry. I tried to come sooner.
Its okay. Youre here now. The woman tried to smile, but her face was contorted with bruises.
Who did this to you? Phoebe asked urgently.
I dont know his name. Her head grew heavy on Phoebes shoulder. Im so tired.
No. Wait! Phoebe shook her.
Tell my folks I love them. She closed her eyes.
Iris! Phoebe begged.
The body in her arms felt like lead. She sank down on the leaves next to it and sobbed uncontrollably. The smell of earth and decay invaded her nostrils. A hand touched her shoulder.
Phoebe? Caras voice. Sweetheart?
Phoebe rolled over, blinking into the light.
Her twin cupped a cool hand to her cheek. Is this the place?
Phoebe nodded. Exhaustion drained the strength from her limbs. Her legs wobbled as Cara helped her up.
Standing a few yards from them, in suit and tie as always, Special Agent Vernell Jefferson put his cell phone away. He looked awkward. Men like him folded their arms when their instinct was to reach out.
Is she okay? he asked Cara, as if Phoebe couldnt speak for herself. That was nothing unusual. Most of the world preferred talking to Cara.
The FBI agent drew a few steps closer, his keen brown eyes assessing the leafy site. A long, rectangular mound of earth corrupted the contours of the forest floor. Phoebe shivered. It was not the first time she had lain on someones shallow grave.
Cara removed some tissues from her coat pocket and placed them in Phoebes hand. We should get going, she said.
They walked back to the car in silence. Overhead, the sun was trying to come out. Until it did, the day would remain damp, the wind weak but biting. Within a couple of months this area would be knee deep in snow. It was lucky they had found Iris before winter set in.
We really appreciate this, Vernell said, opening the passenger door for Phoebe.
She met his eyes and watched his pupils betray him. Vernell was much more excited than his demeanor suggested. In his line of work, the dead spoke through their physical remains. Clearly he was impatient to decipher those of Iris.
I have a message from her, Phoebe said.
His face quickened. About him?
Im sorry. She dispelled his hopes. She just wants someone to tell her folks she loves them.
Vernell did a good job of masking his disappointment. Ill take care of it. His eyes moved to Cara. If you want to wait a while, I can have someone drive you to the airport.
No. You folks have work to do. Cara glanced up the forest road north. And what do you know? Here come the troops.
Phoebe followed the direction of her sisters gaze. A convoy of police vehicles was closing in on them, lights flashing. Hastily she retreated into the car. Law enforcement didnt know she existed. That was part of her deal with the FBI.
Vernell walked Cara to the drivers side and waited for her to get situated. Dont forget what we talked about, he said.
Ill be in touch. Cara started the motor.
Vernell thanked them again, then stepped back and slapped the car roof as if it were a horses rump. Phoebe watched him in the side mirror as they accelerated away. He waved briefly before turning to face the approaching patrol cars. She wondered how he was going to explain chancing upon Iris Meicklejohns body miles from civilization, ten minutes hike into a dense forest near Maidstone Lake in Vermont. Or did FBI men capitalize on their mystique at times like this? Vernell said local police tended to be in awe of the Bureau.
What did he mean? she asked Cara. What shouldnt you forget?
Routine stuff. Nothing you need to worry about.
Phoebe knew she should protest. It wasnt fair that Cara always took responsibility for the practicalities. But they had been through this a hundred times. Cara said they were identical twins, not clones. There was no reason for Phoebe to struggle over things her sister could manage easily, like computers and talking to strangers.
It was Cara who had made their deal with the FBI. Phoebe would never have had the nerve to claim she was a psychic, let alone expect to be hired for her services. Besides, she wasnt a real psychic. She didnt read minds or look into the future. She didnt concentrate on peoples clothing and get imagesnot often, anyway. She dreamed, that was all.
It hadnt always been that way. Before the accident, shed had the same garbled dreams as everyone else. But head injuries and several months in a coma had changed everything. When she returned to consciousness she was convinced that a woman called Samantha needed to talk with her and was waiting near a willow tree north of Liberty in the Catskills. Cara had indulged her, and they drove to a spot on Route 47, then hiked for half an hour until Phoebe heard Samanthas voice. A few yards off the track they found clothing and a body.
Cara phoned 911, saying they were hikers who had stumbled on human remains. The whole experience had been straightforward, even rewarding. They gave statements to the authorities and received praise and gratitude. It turned out the local police had suspected Samantha Lewiss boyfriend of killing her. Finding the body led to his conviction. It was Cara who testified in court. The prosecutor said she was better on the stand than Phoebe, who spoke too softly and came across as kind ofdreamy was the word hed used. Phoebe knew he really meant flaky, which was something no one would ever accuse Cara of being.
When she had her second dream, nobody connected the two discoveriesthey were in different states. Yet again, she and Cara were hikers who found a body.
Then came the Sally Jorgensen kidnapping. The case was all over the television. A prominent Philadelphia judge, Sally had vanished from her home, and her kidnapper demanded the release of a prisoner in exchange for her life. By then Phoebe had already seen Sally in a dream and knew where her body was. This time, since the location was in the heart of the city, they could not pose as hikers. So Cara phoned the FBI and left a tip, declining to give her name. To Phoebes surprise and dismay, Vernell Jefferson turned up on their doorstep a few days later.
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