Murder In Her Dreams (28 page)

She ran back to the front door, flipped the
lock, and threw the door open.

One uniformed officer stood on the porch
while another remained at the curb next to the white police car.
Its red and blue lights lit up the street. Neighbors peered from
nearby windows.

“You called 9-1-1?” the tall officer
demanded.

“Brad’s got a gun. He’s got Ian.” Cassie
turned back into the house.

“Where?” The officer followed, communications
unit in hand.

“I don’t know. I heard a shot. I’m looking
for him.”

“Where did you last see them?”

“Here in the kitchen, but they’re gone.”

Chapter
Twenty-One

The hulking black hog of a motorcycle roared
toward Ian. Brad hunched forward as his fingers grasped the
handlebars. Dust and gravel flew up from the churning wheels.

Ian glanced first right and then left as he
ran for his life. The wooden garages and chain link fences along
the narrow alley offered no escape. His breath came in gasps. His
legs pumped hard. He lengthened his stride. The roar behind him
intensified.

To his left loomed another garage. To the
right a low gate beckoned.

Dashing for the gate, Ian kicked his feet as
high as he could and prayed. He vaulted forward. His heel grazed
the top of the gate, and he sprawled on the grass of the yard.

The fence shuddered. The sound of screeching
metal reached his ears. Then, the motorcycle roared past.

Ian picked himself up and hobbled to the
gate. This time he opened it and walked through. He limped back
along the dusty alley toward Cassie’s.

Just as he reached her place, she came
running toward him with a uniformed officer following. “Oh, Ian,
are you all right. Did he shoot you?” She hugged him close.

He clasped her tightly to him. “I’m okay,
just a little bruised.”

She looked over his shoulder. “Where’s
Brad?”

“Took off on his motorcycle.”

“Excuse me, sir,” the officer interrupted.
“We have a report of a gunman.”

Ian turned to the officer. “Bradford
Harrison. He just took off on his motorcycle down the alley.”

As the officer raised his communications
unit, he looked at the dust trail leading up the alley. “Is he
armed?”

“He dropped his gun inside.”

“Bill, suspect on a motorcycle—" The officer
looked at Ian.

“A Harley Davidson. Black.”

“A black Harley Davidson heading east along
the North Sycamore Alley. Not armed, but considered dangerous.
Notify all units.” He turned back to Ian. “Can you give us a
description of the man?”

Ian nodded. “About six feet, muscular, black
hair, brown eyes.”

“What was he wearing?”

“Jeans and a t-shirt.”

“A white shirt with Greenpeace printed on the
front,” Cassie added.

The officer relayed the information.

“Oh, he also goes by the name Justin Lord,”
Ian told him.

The officer passed that along too. “Why don’t
we go inside and you folks can give me a report.”

Cassie leaned against Ian as they walked arm
and arm toward the house. “I’m so glad he didn’t shoot you.”

“So am I.” Ian grinned down at her. “But I’m
sore as hell. He won’t get another chance.”

“But he got away.” Cassie stared up at him,
worry coming back to haunt her eyes.

“We know who he is, and so do the police.” He
smiled down at her. “Don’t worry. They’ll catch him.”

Cassie led them through the kitchen and into
the living room. She and Ian sat side by side on the sofa holding
hands. The officer sat on the adjacent easy chair. He placed his
communications unit on the table between the chair and the
sofa.

After handing them a business card, he pulled
out a notebook and pencil. “I’m Officer Davis. Let’s start with
your names and addresses.”

Cassie and Ian supplied the necessary details
and he wrote them down. “Now, can you tell me what this is all
about?”

“Well, the rabbit—" Cassie began.

Ian held up his hand. “Better let me tell it,
Cassie.”

He turned to Officer Davis. “Bradford
Harrison is the son of a man who used to work for me. Two years
ago, his father, James Harrison, stole money from my business. When
I threatened to prosecute him, he had a heart attack and died.
Shortly after, his wife committed suicide.”

The officer nodded. “So what about this...”
He looked down at his notes. “This Bradford Harrison?”

Ian sighed. “He’s their son. He blamed me for
their deaths and tried to kill me. If you check with Officer
Jackson, you’ll find a report on a similar incident last Saturday.
Cassie, Miss Blake,”—Ian squeezed her hand—“tried to save me. She
interrupted Brad’s attempt to kill me. I guess that made her a
target, too.”

“Hmm.” Officer Davis rubbed his chin. “So he
came after Miss Blake?”

Ian nodded. “When James Harrison worked for
me, I never met his son. For a number of reasons, after the last
attack we suspected Brad Harrison might be someone who worked for
me, but under another name.” He left out all mention of Cassie’s
dream warnings.

“How did you discover Harrison worked for
you?” The officer looked puzzled.

“It’s a long story.” Ian ran a hand through
his hair and winced as his fingers passed over the place where his
head had hit the table. Cassie leaned forward as if to speak, but
he squeezed her hand again.

“Miss Blake actually worked it out.” Ian saw
the puzzlement on Officer Davis’ face. He didn’t want to tell him
about the rabbit or Cassie’s dreams. It would only confuse
things.

Instead, Ian rushed on with his explanation.
“Anyway, she checked into the birth records of Harrison and two
young men who work in my office. She found out one of the men was
supposed to be African-American. Both the men who worked for me are
white, so we knew something was wrong. Miss Blake called me.”

The officer looked confused. “Then why did he
come here?”

“I’m not quite sure. Somehow, either this
Harrison heard the message or he had decided to kill Miss Blake to
get her out of the way. She spoiled his earlier attempts to kill
me. Her message made me angry to think Harrison had fooled me. I
wanted to confront him.”

“That might have been dangerous.”

Ian sighed. “Yeah, but I didn’t want him to
just disappear. Then he might still attack us.”

Officer Davis shook his head. “Why didn’t you
call the police?”

“I called Officer Jackson about Brad
Harrison, but at the time I didn’t know he was impersonating Justin
Lord.”

“Who is this Justin Lord?”

“A co-op student from Columbus State.”

Officer Davis made a few more notes. “We’ll
have to check on this Lord.”

“I ... that is, we think Harrison must have
killed Justin and taken over his identity,” Cassie added.

“We’ll have to check the files then for
unsolved murders or missing person reports.” The officer made
another note. “That still doesn’t explain why you came here, Mr.
McLeod.”

“I had gotten Miss Blake’s message and tried
to call her. When I didn’t reach her, I was worried. Since Justin,
I mean Harrison, lives south of here, I stopped on my way there.
When I got here, I saw the motorcycle in back and realized Brad was
here. I forced my way in. The rest you know.”

The communicator beeped. Officer Davis held
it up to his mouth. “Davis here.” He listened to the response.

Ian heard the words semi, accident, and
dead.

“Well, folks, I guess we can wrap this up.
The boys chased the suspect up Interstate 71. He cut in front of a
semi and got creamed. Not much left to scrape up.”

Cassie gasped and buried her face in Ian’s
shoulder.

He held her close. “It’s all right. Brad’s
dead. He can’t hurt either of us any longer.” He rested his head
against her hair.

“I know,” she sniffed, “but what a horrible
way to die.”

Ian looked over at Officer Davis. “Do you
want anything more from us?”

“No, that wraps it up.” Davis closed his
notebook, slipped it into his shirt pocket, and then stood. “We’ll
want you to come down to the station and sign a statement, but
that’s all. I’ll let myself out.”

Cassie started to rise, but Ian refused to
let her go. Holding her made everything better. He felt sorry about
Brad, but he was glad it was over and they no longer had to look
over their shoulders. Cassie’s rabbit was dead and could never harm
them again. The door clicked shut behind Officer Davis.

Ian tipped Cassie’s face up and gazed down
into her soft blue eyes. The fear had gone.

“Oh, Cassie, I love you so much.”

He leaned down and kissed her. Her mouth,
soft and yielding under his, enchanted him. He traced her lips with
his tongue and then slipped between them. His pulse raced as he
tasted the sweetness within.

He caressed her back, savoring her narrow
waist and the supple curve of her hips. The kiss became deeper, and
her tongue probed his. His hand slid around to feel the gentle
swell of a full breast. She moaned at his touch.

“Cassie, I love you and want to be with you.
How about it?”

“Ian, I love you too.” She clung to him for a
moment, but then pulled back. “There’s something I have to ask
first though.”

“What?” He stared at her, suddenly afraid. He
had listened to his heart and found the only woman he had ever
loved, but maybe she didn’t want him.

“It’s my dreams. I have them. I don’t know
why. I wish I didn’t, but I do.”

“Everyone dreams.” He tried to pull her close
again.

“I know, but mine are different. They’re
warnings about the future. I can’t promise it won’t happen again.
Then what?” She searched his face, her eyes deep pools of
worry.

“We’ll face that when it happens.” He pulled
her against his chest. “If it hadn’t been for your dreams, Brad
might have killed me.”

Cassie pushed back again. “But you don’t like
dreams. You didn’t even tell the policemen about them.”

Ian ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t
tell him, because I didn’t want him to think we were nuts. I
believe you, and I believe in your dreams. Isn’t that enough?”

Cassie studied Ian with a troubled gaze. “But
can you accept them? And me?” Her last words came in a low
whisper.

“Cassie, I never thought I would ever fall in
love, but I have. You make me feel anything is possible. I have to
believe in your dreams. Look what happened. I’ll admit it hasn’t
been easy for me, but you’re worth any effort.”

“You really mean that?” Her eyes probed his,
as if trying to measure his sincerity.

“Yes, I mean it, but you have to be patient
with me. This doesn’t come easy. Anyway, I had a hunch about you.
That’s why I came here.”

She blinked, eyes wide. “You did?”

“Damn right I did. All the way down High
Street, I couldn’t get it out of mind that you were in danger. I
had to do something.”

“Maybe you’re gifted too.”

“One psychic is enough. Come here. I want to
kiss you.”

Cassie melted into his arms. She had the man
of her dreams, and he said he accepted her and her dreams.

Chapter
Twenty-Two

Saturday, Cassie’s stomach fluttered as she
and Ian looked for a parking spot near Tula’s Tea Room. She wanted
Tula and Ian to like one another. After several trips down the side
streets, Ian finally found a spot big enough for his Accord. He
locked the car and took Cassie’s arm. A pleasant tingle ran along
her arm and to her heart.

She smiled up at him. “I have a special
friend I want you to meet.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” He gave her arm
a light squeeze and the tingle intensified.

Ian loved her, of that Cassie had no doubt,
but how would he feel about Tula? What if the two people she cared
most about didn’t like each other? She gripped Tula’s sun pendant
and rubbed the disk with her thumb.

As they entered the Tea Room, Tula greeted
them. She hugged Cassie and looked up at Ian, speculation in her
amber eyes.

“Ian, this is Tula Mohr, my best friend.
Tula, this is Ian McLeod, the man of my dreams.”

“I hope you mean that.” Ian squeezed Cassie’s
hand.

“I do, in every way.” She squeezed back and
snuggled closer to him.

Tula held out a long, slender hand to Ian.
“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. Cassie has talked so
much about you that I feel we’re old friends.”

“She’s told me about you, too.” Ian’s tone
told Cassie he approved of Tula.

“Tula, how about a pot of your Special Tea
and some apple flan? I’ve been bragging to Ian about how good they
are, “ Cassie prompted.

Tula grinned. “I saved a couple pieces.
Somehow, I knew you’d be by. Pick any table you want, and I’ll be
right back.”

Cassie pulled Ian toward the back. “I usually
sit near the kitchen. It makes it easier for Tula.”

“Hi, Cassie.” Kinesha waved as she passed
with an appreciative glance at Ian.

“That’s Kinesha, you’ll like her too.”

“With a smile like that, who could help
it?”

Cassie stopped at the table just this side of
the kitchen. Ian held her chair and took the one next to her. He
looked about the room with considerable interest.

“Looks busy.”

“It is, Tula’s been looking for another
waitress. Some days she and Kinesha can’t keep up.”

Just then, the bead curtain parted, and Tula
returned with four cups, a large red pot of tea, and three servings
of apple flan with plenty of whipped cream on top. She poured cups
of tea for each of them.

Eying the fourth cup, Cassie gave Tula a
quizzical look. “Are you expecting someone else?”

“Let’s just say we’re wrapping up loose
ends.” Tula’s eyes had a mischievous glint.

Ian sniffed his steaming tea. “Mint and ...
cloves?”