Connection, page 21
Skylar ran back into the house, the dogs’ bed and toys in hand, immediately heading toward the living room where he knew they belonged. Bonnie and Clyde tore out of the kitchen and nearly knocked Skylar over in their excitement to get into their bed. The boy giggled as he plopped down onto his butt and accepted the Yorkie bath.
For a short while, Julie felt normal again. She laughed and cried out as Skylar kicked her butt with the Wii system he had brought over. She was exhausted from their intense tennis match, then giggling like a schoolgirl as they boxed. She couldn’t believe they had actually worked up a sweat.
“Uncle! I give!” she called out, plopping down on the couch. With a cry of victory, Skylar jumped at her, ultimately landing with his head in her lap and torturing her with quick pokes in the stomach. “You little shit,” she growled, laughing wildly as she tried to avoid his fingers while getting in her own licks. Pooped and hungry, boy and woman headed off toward the kitchen to make dinner.
****
The blue sky above shimmered with the bright sun. A few lazy clouds floated by, their shadows painted across the wild flowers, erasing the sun’s reflection on the calm waters of the nearby water for just a moment.
Julie felt the softness of her dress flowing around her legs, a sense of peace and happiness filling her. She turned in a slow circle, eyes scanning the seemingly endless field where the fourth side faded into dark woods and the waters of a small stream gurgled to her left. Knowing she was waiting for someone, she started toward the water. She would go to the coolness of the stream and wait.
Bending down, she dipped her fingers in the water, finding it strange that she didn’t feel the cool wetness she expected, but rather hot air, which nearly burned her fingertips. Suddenly she felt a trickle of fear dripping lazily down her spine. She rose to her feet, squeezing her eyes shut as she dreaded turning around. Her heart was pounding, and she felt faint. Opening her eyes she saw a shadow on the bank of the stream, right next to, and slightly behind, her own.
****
“Remmy!” Julie shot up, nearly knocking Clyde to the floor. She didn’t notice. Her heart pounded, and a thin sheen of sweat covered her body. Wide green eyes took in the darkened room. She felt a presence and turned. Skylar was standing next to the bed.
“Are you okay, Aunt Julie?” Fear made his voice tremble. “You were making funny noises.”
Julie took several deep breaths, her hand trembling as she ran it through her hair, pushing it off her forehead. “Yeah,” she said, “Just a bad dream.” She calmed as he wrapped his arms around her neck.
“I’m sorry you’re so upset, Aunt Julie,” Skylar said into her neck.
She hugged him tightly then kissed his forehead. “I’m sorry I woke you up, baby. Go back to sleep, okay?” He studied her with eyes far more mature than they should have been. He’d been through a lot.
“Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?”
“I’m sure.” She watched him reluctantly leave her alone, listening until she heard him climb into the bed that was reserved for only him, then she blew out a breath. Two pairs of large brown eyes looked up at her. “Sorry, guys,” she said, gathering her two little dogs to her and closing her eyes, reveling in the comfort they gave her.
Unable and unwilling to go back to sleep, Julie went down to the kitchen and made herself some coffee. Ironically, that had been one of the most difficult things to deal with during her captivity—no coffee. She had no idea just how addicting it actually was until she started getting caffeine headaches. They had passed quickly, but she had missed the taste, as well as what it did for her.
Sitting at one of the breakfast barstools and sipping her coffee, she tried to direct her mind back to the nightmare, needing to discern what it was about. She had always been a fan of dreams, feeling that it was the soul speaking of desires, fears, or needs that the conscious mind wasn’t ready to admit or was too busy to consider. She knew the nightmare had to do with Sergio, and the fear that she felt would forever be her companion. The details of the dream were fading fast, leaving Julie with only the sense of unease it had aroused.
Chapter Thirty
Matt drained his coffee, and Roman walked over and grabbed his mug to refill it. “How are you?” Matt asked. He was grateful to the young man who had helped Remmy find Julie and the others.
“I’m great, Matt. How is Julie doing?”
“Good, good. Day by day, you know?”
Roman nodded, set the freshly filled cup on the table, then walked away to wait on other customers.
Matt looked around the coffeehouse with mild interest, overhearing snippets of conversation: “...telling you, it’s wrong; ...thought it was time we actually went out; ...time does the movie start.” After another ten minutes, the door opened and a customer was blown in on the cold January wind. Matt raised his hand to get Grace Cowan’s attention.
She wove her way through the busy shop, removed her heavy overcoat and hung it on the back of the chair across from him, and sat down. “Sorry I’m late,” she said.
“No problem. Glad you could meet me on such short notice.”
“Anytime, Matt, you know that.” Grace waved at Roman, and the young man quickly made his way over and took her order. In less than five minutes, he had returned with a muffin and a cup of hot chai tea. As she stirred in some cinnamon and honey, Grace looked up at Matt Wilson, her dark eyes expectant.
“Julie moved back into her own house.” He sipped from his cup. “Skylar stayed with her about a week ago. He said she woke up from another nightmare, and he told me about something that she said that rattles me, Grace.”
“What did she say?” Grace asked, biting into her muffin.
“Remmy.”
She stopped chewing.
At Grace’s silence, Matt continued. “How would Julie know that name? I’ve never mentioned her. I didn’t want to bring back anything that might upset her. And Julie refused to watch any news coverage of the story.”
“Her therapist?”
Matt shook his head. “I asked her. Dr. Corregan said she’s never discussed the details of the case with Julie.” He took another drink of his coffee. “Do you think we should tell her about Remmy? By the way, have you heard from Remmy at all?”
Grace shook her head, swallowed a bit of muffin, then sipped her tea. “I haven’t heard anything from her. Aside from the nurse saying that Remmy was heading to the Midwest somewhere, I know nothing.”
“Then do you think we should say something to Julie?”
Grace sighed and sat back in her chair. She had felt all along that Julie should be told about Remmy. She also was curious as to whether Julie had ever felt the connection that Remmy had. “I’ll talk to her,” she said, leaving no room for argument. She and Remmy had worked closely together to solve Julie’s case, and she felt the need to share all she knew with Julie. Remmy deserved that recognition.
****
When the doorbell chimed, Bonnie and Clyde ran to the door, their butts moving from side to side as their stubby tails wagged in anticipation of meeting a new friend. Julie nudged them aside and looked out onto the porch through the peephole. Grace was right on time. She pulled the door open and said, “Welcome to my home, Detective Cowan.”
“Thank you, Julie. And please, call me Grace.” Grace stepped across the threshold, looking around the modest, yet wonderfully maintained home. “This is really nice.”
“Thank you,” Julie said, pride evident in her voice. “Come on into the kitchen; I have coffee ready.”
Grace followed Julie, who was showing physical improvement every time she saw her. Her clothing no longer hung on her as it had over Thanksgiving. Though still thin, Julie had put on some weight. Grace accepted the mug of coffee, and she and Julie sat at the round kitchen table.
“How have you been?” Grace asked.
Julie nodded, her hands cupping her own mug. “I’ve been okay. I love Matt dearly, but it’s really good to be home.”
“I bet.” Grace laughed. “I would’ve throttled my brother long before now.” They both laughed, then settled in. “Listen, speaking of your brother, he told me something the other day, and I felt it was really important to talk to you about it.”
“Alright.” Julie set her coffee cup down and pushed it away.
“First off, what, if anything, do you recall about your rescue?”
Julie sighed. “I know you were there. I know the bastard was shot and killed. I remember someone else being there, but I have no clue who it was. That’s pretty much it. The rest is a blur.”
“Matt told me that you were woken up by a nightmare one night when Skylar was staying with you. Your cries woke him.” Grace saw the recollection and embarrassment in Julie’s usually clear green eyes. “You said a name.”
“Remmy. I said it once before, too, when I was there, in the pit.”
“Do you know who Remmy is?”
Julie shook her head and grabbed her coffee cup, more for something to do with her hands than because she was actually thirsty. Her eyes took on a faraway look. She hadn’t told anyone what she was going to tell Grace.
“When I was at that son-of-a-bitch’s house I would have these dreams. At first they started out like actual dreams, at night. But then, somewhere along the way, they turned into daydreams. I don’t know.” She shrugged and shook her head. “It seemed like…when things were at their worst, I would find myself in the field.”
“Field?” Grace listened intently, her mind spinning as she tried to put the puzzle together.
“Yeah. A field. It was always beautiful there, the skies clear and bright. A happy place. One time, even Skylar and my dogs showed up.” She chuckled; it sounded silly, even to her own ears. “That was only once, but in that dream, as well as all the others, there was someone there with me, walking with me, holding me...” Julie’s eyebrows drew together in thought as she struggled to remember details about the blurry figure who always accompanied her, giving her strength and comfort. “I don’t know. The night Skylar heard me…dreaming, I was back in that field, waiting for my dream friend.” She met Grace’s gaze. “She never showed.”
“So, this guardian in your dreams, was her name Remmy?”
Julie thought for a moment, resting her chin in the palm of her hand. Finally she nodded. “I think so. I don’t know that I’d swear to it, but I think so, yes.”
“Okay.” Grace took a long drink from her coffee then set the mug aside. “I’m going to tell you a story. You’re going to think I’ve lost my mind, but I swear it’s the truth.”
Julie was intrigued. “Alright. Let me get us some more coffee first so we can settle in.” She got up and refilled Grace’s cup, topping off her own as well. Resuming her seat, she waited.
“Not long after you disappeared, a young woman came to the police station and spoke with my partner. She claimed that she had information on your disappearance, and that there was more than one woman missing. Unfortunately my partner didn’t take her as seriously as he should have, but she didn’t give up. She claimed to have what she called ‘visions’, and dreams.”
Julie listened in disbelief as Grace continued with her story, telling her that the woman was able to pick up on all the weird collections Sergio had, as well as realizing that she had actually come face to face with the abductor at her job at the convenience store and gas station. Julie felt sick when she found out the young woman had even picked up on Roxie’s murder.
Julie was quiet for a long time, absorbing all that she’d been told, calmly sipping her coffee. At last, Julie met Grace’s patient gaze. “What’s her name?” she whispered.
Grace’s gaze was unwavering. “Remmy.”
Chapter Thirty-one
Remmy glanced up at the storefront window, chewing aggressively on a piece of strawberry Bubble Yum. She shoved her hands into her pockets, bouncing on the balls of her feet to stay warm. It was a frigid February day, but she was trying to muster her courage to go inside. Her first visit into Brenden’s shop more than a month earlier had disturbed her deeply. She couldn’t get her exchange with the shop owner out of her mind. The solid wooden wall blocking her memory was beginning to weaken, and though she feared what was on the other side, she instinctively knew Brenden could help.
The tinkling above the door announced her entrance, and she was immediately soothed by the soft African music playing in the background, as well as the scent of incense—soft and musky. The few customers looking around the store made Remmy fidgety; her fingers played with the loose change in her pants pocket. She saw Brenden speaking with a young man, a teenager apparently interested in buying a deck of Tarot cards. Brenden was explaining the differences between two decks that were resting on the glass counter. She saw his dark eyes dart over to her then return to the customer.
Remmy was perusing a section of charms when she was approached by a beautiful black woman in traditional African dress. Her skin was flawless, eyes, large and chocolate brown. When she smiled, her teeth were straight and very white against her dark skin.
“Hello,” she said. “Can I help you?”
“Oh, uh, no. I’m waiting for Brenden. I see he’s busy, so I think I’ll go.” Remmy gave the tall woman a weak smile then turned to bolt.
“Remmy, is it?”
Remmy froze. She turned slowly and took in the gentle warmth in the woman’s eyes. “How do you know my name?”
“Brenden told me. He’s been expecting your return.”
The woman stayed rooted a few feet away from Remmy. Brenden joined her, placing a kiss on the dark woman’s cheek then turning to Remmy with a smile.
“I’m so glad you returned,” he said, his voice as soft as she remembered it.
Remmy felt trapped, even though the door was only five feet behind her. The couple studied her, Brenden very much looking through her. “How do you know my name? And don’t feed me the bull you did last time.”
Brenden smiled fondly as he approached her. “Would you join me? I’d like to speak with you, explain some things.”
Remmy warily eyed him and the woman. “Alright,” she said at length.
“Wonderful.” He turned to the beautiful woman behind him. “Fayola, please watch the front.
“Of course.” She turned to Remmy. “Pleased to meet you, Remmy. We shall talk later.”
Brenden rested a hand on Remmy’s lower back to get her moving in the direction he wished her to go. They walked toward the back of the long store where Brenden held a curtain aside, allowing Remmy to enter the small room ahead of him. She noted the mural of the night sky painted on the ceiling, twilight painted on one wall, dawn on another. There was a small square table at the center of the room. A well-worn deck of Tarot cards lay in the center of the wooden tabletop.
“Are you going to tell my fortune?” she asked as she sat, nodding at the deck.
“No need. You wear your soul on your sleeve,” Brenden said with a friendly smile. “Can I get you some green tea?” He indicated an industrial sized pot plugged into the wall behind his chair.
“Uh, sure.” Remmy watched as he busied himself. Soon she had a steaming cup of tea sitting before her.
“I’m glad you returned, Remmy,” Brenden said, setting his cup on the table. “I hoped you would.”
“The lady out there said you were expecting me.”
“My wife, Fayola. Yes, I was. Still,” he shrugged, “we don’t always get what we want. Right?” At Remmy’s nod, he smiled and sipped his tea. “So, tell me about you. How long have you known you had The Sight?”
Remmy was tempted to tell Brenden to go to hell and get up and walk out. She grabbed onto the edge of the table, forcing herself to stay seated. Dark eyes followed the movement, a slight smirk lifting the corner of Brenden’s lip. She took a drink of tea, her hand trembling. If Brenden was what he claimed to be, it would be the first time she’d ever met anyone else with “The Sight”. The tea was surprisingly good, but still she set the cup down and concentrated on the man waiting expectantly across from her. “I’ve had visions ever since I can remember. When I was young, they started out small. I’d know what song was coming on the radio next. I knew my dog was going to get a drink of water, that kind of thing.”
“Ah, yes,” Brenden said with a nod. “I remember those days.”
“As I got older, it would happen far more often. It started turning more sinister, too. Some guy would walk by me on the street, and suddenly I felt the pain of the leg he broke when he was fifteen, you know?” At Brenden’s nod, she continued. “It began to filter into every part of my life. I really think everyone thought I was nuts. God, I’ve been fired from so many jobs because of this.” Remmy stared past Brenden, back into a past that was troubling and often painful. “Yep, everyone thought I was nuts.”
“And what do you think? Do you think you’re crazy?”
Remmy was silent for a long time, contemplating his question. Her mother had admitted her to a mental hospital when she was fourteen. She had run away. That was the last time she’d seen the woman. “I don’t know. Right now I’m not fully myself. I…” She abruptly took a sip from her tea. “I can’t remember.”
Brenden misunderstood what she was saying. “Can’t remember what?”
She met his steady gaze. “I can’t remember the last five months of last year. I arrived in a small town off the interstate, Woodland, I know that much. I know I had a job, and even an apartment. I remember the people I knew—Roman, Detective Grace Cowan, even Matt Wilson. But I don’t know why I know them. Just that I...do. I woke up in a hospital, shot in the back and missing my spleen. I was told how I came to be shot, but I have no recollection of it.”
