Psychic Dreams: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel (Glimmer Lake Book 3) Read online

  I’ll keep an eye on things.

  Monica gave her a surreptitious thumbs-up and went to her office to find Kara’s employee file. She flipped it open and turned to the résumé in back.

  She checked all the references Kara had listed and found nothing suspicious. Everyone she’d worked for—including the inn in Sacramento where she was from—had given Kara stellar performance ratings.

  Sacramento…

  She tapped the number to Pioneer Heart Bed and Breakfast. Maybe they knew some of Kara’s family. She’d worked there when she was underage. Wouldn’t she have needed a work permit signed by her parents?

  Monica dialed the number and waited two rings for someone to pick up.

  “Pioneer Heart B and B,” an older voice said. “How can I help you today?”

  “Hi! I’m calling to check a reference.” She glanced at the paper. “Is Yvonne Willis still working there?”

  “Nope. She retired. But I’m the owner, Doris Flemming. I’m filling in for my manager. If you need a reference check, I know just about everyone.”

  “I’m calling about a Kara Sinclair.”

  “Kara…” Papers shuffled in the background. “I don’t think we’ve had anyone… Oh! You mean Caroline, I think.”

  “Do I?” What was this? Caroline? “The employee I’m asking about is named Kara. You may be thinking about someone else.”

  “Nope. ’Cause her mama’s family name is Sinclair. That’s why she went with Kara Sinclair. But it was all legal-like. She did the name change when she turned eighteen, I just didn’t remember at first. Nothing criminal. No worries about that. Just looking for a break from her dad. Can’t blame her; he was pretty useless.”

  “Right.” So Kara Sinclair had once been someone else. “So Caroline—Kara to me—she’s working here right now, at Russell House in Glimmer Lake.”

  “She’s a gem of a girl,” Doris said. “Hard worker.”

  “We love her here, but she’s missing.”

  “What?”

  “The sheriff, everyone’s looking for her. But I was wondering if you had any family names or numbers you could give me. Her emergency contact number just goes to voice mail” —Monica had tried that last night— “and we want to make sure her family knows what’s going on.”

  “Oh, that poor girl.” Doris heaved a sigh. “Well, I don’t have good news on that front. Her mama passed a few years ago. Some kind of cancer, sad to say. And her father’s family… Well, I wouldn’t call them. I don’t think she’d want you to call any of the Sangers.”

  “Okay, but do you know anyone— Wait!” The name finally registered. “Did you say Sanger?”

  “Yep. That’s her daddy’s name. She was born Caroline Sanger. Changed it to Kara Sinclair as soon as she could. She didn’t want to have anything to do with that clan.”

  Caroline Sanger.

  “Corbin Sanger, along with his daughters Rosemarie and Bethany, died in the 1932 fire that devastated much of the Grimmer Valley. The surviving Sanger family is petitioning to be compensated for their share of the settlement…”

  “Thank you so much, Doris.” Monica couldn’t get off the phone fast enough. “Thank you for the help.”

  “Can you call me back when they find her?” Doris asked. “Sweet thing. I always hoped she did well in her life. Lord knows she worked hard enough.”

  “I will.” Monica hung up and immediately called Robin.

  “Hello?”

  “Quick, add in Val so I don’t have to tell this twice. I’m still processing, and I always hang up on you when I try to group call.”

  “Right.” Robin grew quiet and Monica heard beeping.

  Kara was a Sanger. A Sanger. Like the Sanger family from Grimmer, who settled in Sacramento. What were the chances of that being a random connection?

  “Hello?”

  “Val? Monica called me and I called you. You’re both on speaker here.”

  Monica said, “Val, I have some info about Kara. Can you sneak out and come check her office? I think I know how she ended up in Glimmer Lake.”

  Val ran her ungloved hands over the small desk where Kara’s laptop lay closed and plugged in. Everything on the desk, from paperclips to Post-its, was ruthlessly organized.

  “So Kara is related to Bethany?” Val asked.

  “If I’m right, she’d be a distant cousin or something. Her great-grandmother might have been the one we read about in the paper, who was trying to get money from the power company for their family’s ranch.”

  “How common a name is Sanger?”

  “It’s not common, but there are quite a few listed in Sacramento. Think about it though. Kara ends up here, of all places, on what is left of her ancestral home, and right around that time, Bethany says Rosemarie ‘wakes up.’ You think that’s a coincidence?”

  “You think the blood connection is why Rosemarie can influence her?”

  “Maybe.” Monica stopped in front of the calendar board Kara had posted on the back of her door. “This girl is a treasure.” The color-coding system was enough to make Monica weep. “It sounds like she wasn’t close with the Sangers. She got rid of their name and took her mother’s. Changed her name. Got out of town.”

  “They must have been a peach of a family,” Val muttered. “Sounds like she had a good mom though.”

  “That definitely explains why she avoided talking about her family.” That should have been a red flag. Monica just wanted to hug Kara harder.

  “I’m not getting anything here.” Val waved her hands around the room. “Nothing malicious. Nothing even hinting at the fires or any of the confusion or panic I got at the arson sites. She was happy here.” Val looked up. “She loves working here. She loves Jake. There’s nothing here but happiness and a few minor gripes about normal stuff. Guests being demanding, that kind of thing.” Val frowned. “She was tired though. She wasn’t sleeping much.”

  Monica’s heart broke all over again. “She’s out there somewhere. She’s got to be so confused and frightened. And she’s got a ghost relative who won’t leave her alone. We have to find her.”

  “Come on.” Val nudged Monica’s shoulder while she slid on her gloves. “Take an hour and let’s run by Bailey’s. Hettie might have more info.”

  But when they drove into Bailey’s, Monica’s heart fell. There were two patrol cars parked in the lot, along with the distinctive red-and-white truck owned by Gabe Peralta.

  Chapter 22

  “I’m telling you.” Hettie Bailey was standing behind her reception desk with her arms crossed over her chest. “That girl hasn’t got a criminal bone in her body. And she hasn’t been here in weeks. I think she’s living with her boyfriend now.”

  Gabe glanced over his shoulder as Monica and Val entered the office, his eyes widening a fraction when they landed on Monica before he turned back to Hettie. “Ma’am, all I’m asking is for access to the room where she stayed.”

  “And I’m telling you I got a nice young man who’s working the line for the power company in that room now, and I don’t think you have the right to go through all his things while he’s gone. Just wait a damn minute for him to call me back.” Hettie was small but stubborn, and her expression was mutinous.

  “Hey Hettie.” Val waved.

  “Hey there, Val. Hello, Monica. These fellas been pestering you too?”

  “We’re trying to find Kara.” Val nudged Gabe to the side. “I know the department’s been looking for her to question her about the fires, but you know Kara’s been seeing Monica’s boy Jake, right?”

  “Oh, she talked about him like he hung the moon.” Hettie’s eyes crinkled. “That sweet girl. Jake fixed the doorknob on the storage room when someone broke in last month.” She frowned. “You saying she hasn’t been staying with him?”

  Monica shook her head. “Nope. He’s worried too.”

  Gabe seized on what Hettie had said. “Tell us about the break-in. Was it reported?”

  Hettie waved a hand. “Oh, I th
ink I mentioned it to one of Sully’s boys when I saw him at the coffee shop, but there was nothing but a couple of things gone. He told me to go file a report, but I got busy and never went in. Jake fixed the door and that was the end of it. Kerosene ain’t that expensive.”

  “Kerosene?” Gabe narrowed his eyes. “The thieves took kerosene?”

  “Sure. Lots of people still got kerosene heaters and lamps. To tell the truth, I figured if they needed the kerosene that bad, they could have it. You never know when people are down on their luck. I’ve been there.”

  “You’re a sweetheart, Hettie,” Monica said. “But I think Chief Peralta is worried because the kerosene might have been used to set a fire.”

  “That right?” She shrugged. “Lot of other things start fires too. I wouldn’t put too much by it.”

  “Who noticed the break-in?” Gabe asked.

  Hettie’s jaw tightened. “Might have been Kara.”

  Oh shit.

  Gabe leaned on the counter. “Mrs. Bailey, we really need to see that room.”

  “I am only letting you in here,” Gabe muttered, “because Sully vouched for you. If you touch anything—”

  “I have to touch things.” Val laid her hand flat on the base of the lamp. “That’s kind of how it works. Good Lord, there are so many different people in this room. The new guy likes company.”

  Monica winced. “Sorry, Val.”

  “I’ve seen worse.” She kept running her hands over surfaces. “There’s not a lot of Kara in this room.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Gabe asked.

  “It means she didn’t have very much emotion invested here,” Monica said. “Val got a lot of her thoughts and feelings at her office at Russell House because she spent so much time there.”

  “And she loved it.” Val walked down the small hallway to the bathroom. “Nothing about the fires though.”

  Gabe said, “I wasn’t asking.”

  “Not out loud.” Val stuck her head out of the bathroom. “Just like I know you want to apologize to Monica but you’re not saying it. Stop being so emotionally constipated, Gabe.”

  His jaw clenched. Then he looked at Monica and his expression softened. “I’m sorry about your house.”

  Monica didn’t know what to make of that. Being sorry someone’s house burned down seemed like the bare minimum of human decency. Gabe didn’t get brownie points for human decency.

  “Thanks.”

  “The guys said it was all pretty fixable though. Mostly smoke damage?”

  “I haven’t been back.” She sat in the rickety chair by the small table. “Robin’s husband is meeting the insurance guy for me.”

  She should get back to Russell House. If Val hadn’t been her ride, she would have left Bailey’s half an hour ago. Now she was stuck in a small hotel room with Gabe Peralta, trying to ignore the tension between them.

  And she was still picturing him naked. Dammit.

  He went through the pile of magazines by the TV. “You know, it’s not that I don’t believe that this… kind of thing is possible.”

  Monica raised an eyebrow. “You just think it’s possible for other people. Not housewives in Glimmer Lake.”

  His cheekbones were a little red when he turned to her. “You make it sound like I’m patronizing you.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “No.” He put his hands on his hips and turned to face her. “Maybe. It’s hard to wrap my brain around the idea that someone I know, someone I’m…”

  Monica cocked her head. “Someone you what?”

  He looked into Monica’s eyes and didn’t look away. “Someone I’m very attracted to might have supernatural abilities. It’s not a comfortable feeling.”

  “I can’t do what Val does. I can’t read anyone’s thoughts.” And I’m just going to ignore the fact that you said that because I don’t know how to respond to it.

  Also, you need to grovel.

  The silence stretched between them.

  Val poked her head out of the bathroom again. “It’s true. Monica just has dreams. And sometimes they’re not even very helpful.”

  “Also true.” Monica didn’t look away from Gabe. “Sometimes they’re just really annoying. Like I can see that I’m going to drop one of my favorite dishes, but that doesn’t seem to keep me from dropping it. The dish still gets broken even when I try to prevent it.”

  “So what does that mean for the town?”

  Monica’s voice went soft. “I don’t know. That’s probably why I’m afraid to fall asleep.”

  She walked through the burning forest, trying to focus on the details. She shoved back the instinctive panic and opened her senses.

  The fire was hot, but it couldn’t burn her.

  The air smelled of smoke, but she was still breathing.

  She walked barefoot across a soft bed of pine needles, her legs brushing against the green ferns that ran along the creek. She could hear water running and the distant crash of a waterfall threading through the crack and pop of the fire over her head.

  Lavender’s green, dilly dilly,

  Lavender’s blue

  You must love me, dilly dilly,

  ’cause I love you.

  The forest opened up and she saw the cabin in front of her, leaning haphazardly against a stand of granite rocks.

  Monica stopped in her tracks.

  I know this place.

  She knew the cabin and the rocks. She knew the trail to get there.

  I heard one say, dilly dilly,

  since I came hither,

  That you and I, dilly dilly,

  must lie together.

  The voice singing the old words was different than what she’d heard before. Monica stepped to the window of the leaning cabin and peered inside.

  Kara was on the floor of the cabin, wrapped in blue plaid blankets from Russell House. Her knees were drawn up to her chest, and she was rocking back and forth. Ugly black and red burns marked her ankles, and her feet were bloody.

  “Kara.”

  She looked up and saw Monica. Her face was covered in ash, and two lines of tears tracked down her cheeks. Her eyes were wide and frightened. She opened her mouth and started to sing the old nursery rhyme again, tears streaming down her face.

  The fire around them started closing in.

  Monica woke with the smell of kerosene in her nose, confused until she remembered where she was.

  Robin’s guest room.

  Mark and Robin’s house.

  Her house had been on fire. They put it out. There was water everywhere.

  Water? Not water.

  Fire.

  The image of Kara’s face flashed in Monica’s thoughts, and the dream flooded her mind. She reached for the phone on the bedside table and searched for Gabe Peralta’s number.

  “Hello?” It might have been the middle of the night, but Gabe sounded alert.

  Monica didn’t wait to introduce herself or explain. “Kara Sinclair is in an old cabin off Cartwheel Road, south of Ranch Creek. Go east of the highway on Ranch Creek Road, turn right on Cartwheel. About two miles in there’s a fire road. Turn left and follow the creek back to the old abandoned cabin. I don’t think it’s on fire, but it may be soon if you don’t get to her. She’s burned and she needs medical attention.”

  “I’ll call Sully right now.” Gabe hung up.

  Monica dropped her phone and covered her eyes, fighting back tears. Kara had been so confused. So frightened. She was hurt and Monica had sent the fire department to her, knowing that they would probably have to arrest her as soon as they rescued her from whatever was tormenting her mind.

  “Monica?” Robin tapped on her door. “Is everything okay?”

  She rose and walked to the door, opening it and throwing her arms around Robin. “No. I saw Kara. Nothing is okay.”

  They waited for a knock at the door. They’d heard the sirens roaring down the highway south of town. Mark made coffee as Monica and Robin sat on the couch, w
aiting for news from Sully.

  Monica heard a truck putter down the road and stop in front of the house. The knock came just as the sun was breaking over the horizon and the sky had turned from black to greyish blue.

  Robin rose to answer the door.

  “Is Monica awake?” Gabe’s voice was rough.

  “Yeah.” Robin opened the door wider, and Gabe walked into the entryway.

  He toed off his shoes in the entryway and walked without hesitation to Monica, kneeling in front of her where she sat on the couch.

  “You knew exactly where she was.” He stared straight into her eyes. “You knew about the burns.”

  “I saw her. Is she going to be all right?”

  “I can’t answer that.” He braced his arms on the edge of the couch. “She’s receiving medical attention right now. She had third-degree burns on her lower legs and they were infected. There was kerosene at the cabin, but no sign that she’d started a fire.”

  “Did she confess?”

  Gabe nodded slowly. “You knew exactly where she was.”

  “I know. What did she say?”

  “She wasn’t making much sense.”

  Robin came and sat next to Monica, taking her hand and squeezing it. “Is she going to be okay?”

  “Medically, I don’t know how bad the burns are.” Gabe couldn’t stop staring at her. “I’ve seen people recover one hundred percent from worse, so it probably depends on the infection. I’m obviously not a doctor. She’s heading to the hospital in Bridger right now. The EMTs have her.”

  Monica asked, “Did Sully arrest her?”

  “Not yet. He’s still trying to question her, but she’s really confused.” Gabe looked into Monica’s eyes. “I need to know what’s going on here.”

  “We told you,” Robin said.

  “Monica Velasquez, I am so…” Gabe cleared his throat. “I am so sorry that I didn’t believe you. I don’t know how any of this works, but that girl didn’t have a phone on her. Didn’t have anything but the keys to an old truck we found behind the cabin and the clothes on her back. And she was exactly where you said she’d be.”