Dreamscape (16 page)

Jackson turned. There situated in front of him was a void, a sudden coldness. A form slowly appeared from within. He yelled against the wind at the old woman. “What’s going on? What do we do?”

“Wake up. Jackson Dunn, wake up.”

Jackson didn’t have time to respond. The form sent forth a force that knocked Jackson down. He hit his head, and blood streamed down his face. He faintly heard the old woman’s voice again.

“Wake up.”

Feeling a jolt, Jackson closed his eyes. He tried to open them once more. Failed. Again he tried, slowly opened them, and tried to focus. The room spun around him. He reached for balance, felt carpet beneath him.

He awoke in his hotel room. Papers scattered across the floor, covers thrown across the bed. He sat up. Something warm ran down his cheek. Instinctually, he touched his face and pulled back his hand. Blood.

He stood and looked in the mirror, confused. He had to straighten out his thoughts. Had it been real? The blood on his fingers told him it had. He shook his head. At the moment, the only thing he was sure of was his headache.

Chapter Eleven

“Okay, Jackson,” Sam Caldwell bellowed, irritation clear in the words. He slung his keys down on Jackson’s bed. “I want to hear what the hell is going on. First you tell me you got stitches falling out of bed. Then you ask me to check on Franklin’s place. Got a call from the police chief. It’s the damnest thing. The whole place has been blown apart. Like a tornado hit it.”

“Maybe it did. Tornados can be bad down here,” Jackson said. Finished showering and shaving, he exited the bathroom drying his face on a towel. He patted his face once more and threw the towel back in the bathroom.

“Cut the shit, Jackson. A tornado that only hits Franklin’s house? All the trees were standing tall around the house, not even bent over. And no one else noticed any bad weather?”

Jackson’s head still hurt. He wasn’t in the mood to be diplomatic. “I don’t know, Sam. Told you. I went to bed and found myself on the floor when I woke up.” He walked over to Sam, standing toe to toe, his own irritation growing. “Do you have any idea what we’re dealing with? Any idea at all?”

Sam brushed himself off as he stood. “Not much to tell, son. From the way you’re acting you know more than I do. What is it that you think I know?”

“My parents, for instance. Where did I come from? Okay, I admit I accepted what Dad and you told me about my birth mother, but after last night I want the truth. If you or Dad don’t want to tell me, Mom will. She won’t be able to hold back if I press her. Something’s brewing. I want to know what I’m up against.”

Sam stared at Jackson again. He hesitated. “I wish I knew. Well, I do, sort of. It’s really not up to me to tell you. Your dad should. I can tell you we didn’t expect you to be in the middle of anything. It’s the truth that you were orphaned and your dad adopted you.”

“Why all the secrecy?”

“It’s just the manner of your mother’s death, Jackson, that we didn’t tell you about. Your mother, Lisa, was a young waif of a thing. Spunky, wasn’t afraid of anything. She was our informant. She saved us. We owed her. Promised her we’d take care of you. We kept that promise.”

“What about my real father?”

“That I can’t help you with, boy. Don’t know who he was. Lisa never said. At the time, it wasn’t of importance to us.”

“Wouldn’t it be important to me?” Jackson asked, angry and tired. His head ached. His voice rose. “Then tell me what the hell you used Franklin for, tell me everything. Who was he? What was he? What do you know about Dream Walkers, Pathfinders, goddamn Seekers, and last but not least, Jumpers?”

“Hold on now, Jackson.” Sam began to collect himself. “We found Franklin on a case your father and I were working on. Said whoever his connection was was dead. He needed help when he had visions. Nobody else would listen to him. I’d never even heard the words Dream Walker until Franklin told me to find her, Ramona. I didn’t even know he was one. I just used Franklin as a psychic. He gave me some good tips. I’m not sure where you’re going with this, boy. What has this got to do with our case?”

“I don’t know, Sam,” Jackson said and frowned. “I don’t understand, but I can assure you I will. If you’re not telling me something, I promise you I’ll find out. I won’t be used as some puppet.”

Sam gazed at Jackson and gave a helpless shrug. He let out a sigh. “Son, I wish I could tell you what you’re looking for. I know you’ve trusted me and your dad. You shouldn’t stop. I would never set you up. You’re like a son to me, you know that. But, yes, I have suspected that you’re connected to all that’s been happening.”

“You better tell me quick. I’m losing my patience.” Jackson shook his head. “What am I in the middle of?”

“Look, Jackson, Franklin told me to send you to find the Dream Walker. He told me that you’d be able to unearth the puzzle piece that we needed. He was adamant about it. Something about three. All three will be needed. I’ve always played hunches. It works. I don’t consider I’ve put you in harm’s way, have I?”

“Wouldn’t it have been better to tell me? Who am I, Sam? I’m not a stranger to you. Besides, I’ve been with you when we closed out one of Franklin’s cases. I know what we saw. So don’t tell me you played a hunch. I don’t buy it.”

Sam stepped toward Jackson. Jackson stepped back. “I think it’s best if you leave now,” Jackson said, vehement. “I have some research to do. And I swear, Sam, I will find out what’s going on. I promise you.”

Sam thought for a moment then turned and walked out the door.

* * * *

Jackson looked up from his computer. Darkness had fallen. Christmas at last came to an end. He hadn’t even returned his parents’ call. He imagined his mother worried sick about him. He didn’t feel like getting into it with them over the phone, so he’d emailed. He had research to attend to. He had a job to do. Headstrong and stubborn, he’d use his determination to do just that.

A knock disrupted his concentration. He contemplated ignoring it. The thought passed through his mind that Sam had returned. Sam would probably come up with a spin he thought Jackson would buy. Sam didn’t fool him; he didn’t make a move without a reason. Jackson understood Sam had a need to close out a case no matter what the cost. He knew well because the same drive possessed him.

Deliberately taking his time, he walked to the door. Another knock came. He viewed the hallway through the peep hole. His reactions transformed swiftly. He yanked the door open. Callie stood alone, biting her lower lip, her hair disheveled, fallen strands framing her face. Her eyes reddened from crying, she held her hands behind her back.

“Callie, come in.” He gently grabbed her hand and led her into his room. She brought out her other hand. It held tight around an envelope. He closed the door behind her. “I wasn’t expecting you as you can see. What’s wrong?”

She walked away from him, stood by the curtain-drawn window, and pushed curtain to the side. Glancing out into the darkness of the night she said, “I don’t know if I should have come. I don’t know.”

Jackson came up behind her and tenderly turned her towards him. The curtain fell back into place. She leaned into the warmth of his broad chest, and he placed his arms around her. He forgot the time that had elapsed between their last embrace and caressed her cheek, lifted her head up, wanted to take away the pain in her eyes. Fought the urge to kiss her; he’d been the source of her pain.

She looked at him and dropped the envelope at their feet. Her arms wrapped around his neck. He resisted no longer and leaned in slowly. Her lips parted as he kissed her, reawakening the passion they had once known with a long, passionate kiss.

“Jackson,” she whispered. “I have to talk with you.”

He broke away from her, not releasing her hand. Staring at her face, he stepped back, sat on the corner of his bed. He pulled her beside him and brushed a strand of hair from her face.

“Talk, Callie. I’m listening.”

She took a deep breath. “This morning….” Obviously searching for the right words, she shook her head. “I’m not sure how to say this. It doesn’t make any sense. Right now, I’m not sure if any of what happened was real.”

“Callie, you’re not making any sense.”

“I was leaving to meet Russ at his parents’. I was taking my own car to leave when I wanted. A young boy stood by my car, a young Indian boy. He didn’t say anything. He just smiled. I didn’t think anything about it. I got in and started toward Russ’s parents’. I don’t know how I got where I was, though, but I ended up in the middle of nowhere. I tried my phone. It didn’t work. I stopped trying to get my bearings. Jackson, I was in the middle of a forest, woods. I don’t know now. Then that boy appeared out of nowhere. He ran. I yelled at him. I swear I only went ten feet from my car, but I turned, and my car was gone.”

Jackson sat uncertain if he wanted to hear the words that would come next.

Callie shook her head, and her hands trembled. “I turned, and this strange guy was just standing there. He had long dark hair pulled back, tall, dressed in black. He didn’t introduce himself, but he knew me, you. He knew things about us I’ve never told anyone. I don’t think you would have known them either. Then he told me things about you. Said you needed to know.”

“What things, Callie?”

She pointed to the envelope. “He told me to go to Sam’s files and where I would find it. I made copies for you. Sam won’t know I gave them to you.”

“Callie, I don’t understand why you’re so upset,” he said. His hand touched her neck, and he ran his fingers through her hair. She reached up for his hand. “I can take care of that situation. I have a feeling what I need to know. About my real parents.”

“You don’t understand why I’m upset? Jackson, people just appeared!” She bordered on hysteria. “You don’t understand what I’m trying to tell you? Why are you so casual about it? Do you know what you’re up against, Jackson? The way he talked…. Jackson, don’t play lightly with this. He said your life depended on it. Listen to me, will you?”

Jackson’s instincts kicked in. “There’s a lot more than that, Callie. You’re not easily rattled.”

“I want you to believe me and not treat me as if I’ve gone off at the deep end.” She pulled his hand to her chest. “He knew about us, Jackson. He knew that, that….” She hesitated, took another deep breath. “He knew that I’ve loved you since I was a kid. He knew you left me, alone. That you were off on this case. How angry I was, am, at the way you treated me. How I convinced myself that I was over you, until now. He told me it was necessary for you to complete your job before all else. He told me it wasn’t a choice.”

Jackson pulled her against his chest again as her tears began to fall. He brushed back her hair, the tears away. “If he told you all that, what did he say about me? Did he tell you how I felt about you?”

She nodded.

“Did he tell you that I might be an idiot when it comes to romance, but I’m hopelessly in love with you? I never meant to hurt you.”

“He told me. He told me that you’d be leaving in the morning. That I needed to let you leave. You had a job to do.”

He looked at her questionably. “Callie, I don’t know what you went though. Honestly, I’m happy that whoever this was sent you back to me. I never realized how much I needed you until now, but I’m not going back tomorrow. I have more leads to follow.”

He barely got the words out before his phone rang. At first he ignored it, but looked down at the ID. Montgomery. He reluctantly answered. He got up and walked toward the window, looked back over his shoulder at Callie. Callie stood and walked toward the door. Jackson, the phone still against his ear, blocked the door with his hand and motioned for her to sit. He had to handle a situation, but he didn’t want her to leave just yet.

Later, they lay in bed, his arms around Callie. He would be leaving in the morning. Bad news had come in from Boston. He had to get back for damage control. His worry, though, lay in his arms. He didn’t buy all she’d told him. Had she even told him everything? His job depended on his ability to read people, and she had held back. He couldn’t deny something had drenched her anger toward him, but right now, she wasn’t going to tell him. His instinct told him he needed to protect her. From what? He asked her to go with him. She couldn’t on this short notice. Besides, she had to do some digging for him. He pulled her tighter toward him.

* * * *

Douglas Thorpe only thought of survival in the midst of Christmas. For the kids’ sake he sat through them opening their gifts, but both Liam and Molly sensed the tension. Neither Doug nor Cindy had talked to each other since that night. Enough would be said after this day. The process of enduring the day wouldn’t be easy. The kids had been excited at giving him a set of golf clubs. Liam had been right. Another time, another Christmas, he would’ve been thrilled.

Cindy’s present, a pearl necklace she’d always wanted, sat in his car. It had been his last attempt to make her happy, bought before…. He’d return it. Gotten the kids a gift certificate to Highland’s Day Spa for them to give their mother. He stood up as the kids continued opening gifts and walked into the kitchen, a small escape. The morning paper sat on the counter; he picked it up and poured another cup of coffee. He needed to start looking for an apartment.

He’d lived the last few days in a fog. The full impact of his failed marriage surfaced. Thorpe had the ability to push painful feelings back, ignore them long enough and they’d go away, but this time they weren’t going anywhere. The reality of the situation was he couldn’t run away and things had to be dealt with. Escaping into his work wouldn’t erase the damage. His kids, he worried about how they’d handle the end of their parents’ marriage. Anger and resentment replaced the hurt Cindy had inflicted.