Murder In Her Dreams

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MURDER IN HER DREAMS

by Nell DuVall

Cassie Blake lives with guilt because she failed to heed her dreams and a young girl died. Now, a year later a handsome man and a vicious feral rabbit haunt her dreams. She has no idea of the man’s identity. At first she dismisses the dream as ridiculous, that is, until she discovers the man is real.

Acknowledgements

Thanks to Novels in Progress, especially Sally Less and Barbara Westerviller — the Internet Writing Workshop’s Lovestory members —

and various others who reviewed and offered comments on this novel and others in the series.

Chapter One

Cassie Blake tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Maybe that late night chocolate bar and the cup of tea had been a bad idea. She snuggled down under the chintz comforter and focused on having lunch with her best friend Tula Mohr. She always enjoyed that. Savoring the flakey scones and cream with raspberry jam, she drifted to sleep.

* * * *

A man’s face hovered in the air. Rich, warm mahogany hair curled around the face and flirted with the nape of his neck. His closed eyes opened slowly. Earthy brown, they stared back with stiff pride. His jaw jutted out, strong and patrician, while his generous mouth quirked up at the corners. Not bad, not bad at all.

He resembled no one she knew, not even a movie or TV star. His unfamiliar features puzzled her. Only Tula had that air of self-sufficiency. Attractive, but at the same time intimidating, his intense dark eyes compelled her attention. They challenged her and then laughed at her failure to do other than stare at him, opened-mouthed. She struggled to blink, but his face didn’t go away. Like the Cheshire Cat, he mocked her.

Come on, Cassie, wake up. She wanted to take control of her dream and banish the persistent face, but she didn’t know how. You’re a dream, just a crazy dream.

Then he smiled. His expression softened and became more appealing. The look in his eyes changed from challenging to tender and non-threatening. A strong hand with long tapering fingers reached out to her. Her hand stretched to meet his. Iron fingers grasped hers, but with gentleness, and pulled her toward his hovering face.

A torso emerged. Square shoulders, a broad chest in a bright fuchsia and teal shirt, and then more followed. Sturdy thighs in a pair of snug fitting jeans that emphasized his masculinity. Innate caution made Cassie want to hold back, but she also wondered who he was and what he wanted.

Filled with promises, his gaze impelled her forward. Unable to resist the insistence of his hands, she approached closer.

Her heart beat against her rib cage. His skin gave off a strong citrus-scented aftershave. His smiling lips parted as he leaned forward and his arms surrounded her. Heat enveloped her, sending fire through her veins.

His lips neared hers. A thrill raced though Cassie from her toes to her fingertips. She wanted those demanding, insistent lips on hers. Ready for his kiss, she took a quick breath.

What the hell? The man pulled back and stared down at his right leg.

Cassie’s eyes followed his. A large black mass clung to his leg. As she peered down, long, laid-back ears and a short, puffball tail emerged. Cassie blinked. The long ears and fluffy tail of a black ... rabbit?

Rabbit? Cassie almost laughed, but her laughter faded as the dream continued. Not a cuddly bunny but a feral creature as big as a small Bull Terrier encircled his leg. Sharp, curved claws extended from its paws. It clung to the man’s leg like a Rottweiler locked on a fresh kill.

Air laden with mold and dampness filled her nostrils — the scent of a dead cornfield waiting for winter’s icy blanket. The odor grew ranker.

Her throat closed. She struggled to breathe. The chill ate through her flannel gown. Shivers shook her. Then, horrifying memories of ten-year-old Ellie Latham deepened the cold.

The man shook his leg, but the creature held fast. He shook harder. Still the rabbit clutched his leg, strong talons digging into the fabric of his jeans. The man reached down to pluck the beast away.

A low menacing grumble sounded. The creature bared its long, white teeth. Those sharp, shiny incisors held her spellbound. An aura of malevolence and evil rose from the creature and poisoned the air.

She gasped for breath. Somehow, she knew this nightmare creature meant to kill.

The rabbit gnashed its teeth. A stringy rope of bubbles dripped from its mouth. Foam? Rabid animals foamed. Killer animals.

Cassie looked for a weapon, but saw nothing handy. She turned back to the man.

He stretched his hand down toward the growling rabbit. The creature watched with glittering eyes. It flattened its ears against its head. The growl became a roar. Rumbling like an enraged bull, it leaped upward toward the man’s exposed throat.

* * * *

Cassie screamed.

The echoing scream woke her.

She sat up. The image of the rabbit, its teeth bared, its body bent in an arc as strong hind legs propelled it upward, remained printed on her retina. She shut her eyes, but the image stayed.

Her flannel nightgown, damp with sweat, clung to her back. Her body shook in deep, quaking shudders.

She opened her eyes again to her familiar room. The brass foot of the day bed gleamed in the gray light seeping through the chintz drapes. The matching comforter lay on the floor, hiding her fuzzy slippers and the rose and gray braided rug.

For a moment longer, she stared at the room, not yet awake. The uncertainty and fear the rabbit evoked still imprisoned her.

Shaking, Cassie reached for her tatty chenille robe. She pulled the robe tight, and the trembling eased. With a heave, she tossed the bulky comforter back onto the bed. She slid her feet into her slippers and stumbled to the bathroom.

Cassie gave her tangled brown hair a few quick swipes with the brush and stared at the white face in the mirror. Her usually rosy cheeks looked colorless, and her deep blue eyes stared back, almost black.

You need a good, strong cup of hot tea.

Determined to raise her spirits, she dressed, pulling on her favorite pink sweater and the matching floral skirt, and hurried downstairs.

Sunlight flooded the kitchen with bright yellow warmth. One cup of steaming Earl Grey later, she rejoined the human race.

Just a nightmare. No more chocolate bars before bed.

Chocolate and a rabbit? Okay, Easter was coming, but this monster was no gentle Easter bunny with colored eggs and candy.

Dreams, certain dreams, haunted Cassie. As a child, she once dreamed the mail carrier fell to the sidewalk. Later she heard her mother tell Mrs. Johnson the man had a heart attack. Such dreams had troubled her adolescence, but then subsided.

However, this last year after her dreams about Ellie Latham, Cassie had feared sleep for months. Most of her normal dreams involved people and places she knew. The dreams about Ellie Latham had been different. So had this one.

Waking in an icy sweat and shaken by deep shivers that had unnerved her brought back unwelcome memories. The dream smell of death and decay had almost gagged her. It reminded her too much of Ellie and the failure that followed.

Usually she dreamed in color, but not with smells. Unpleasant odors had haunted the dreams of Ellie. The worst part of those dreams had been that sense of watching evil waiting to attack. That unnatural rabbit had it too.

If Cassie had acted on her dreams about Ellie, the child might not have died. At the time, she hadn’t known what to do. Like this nightmare, those dreams had held no meaning for her. She had never seen Ellie before. Neither did she know this strange man. As for the rabid creature, she wanted to forget it. The menace of it still gnawed at her.

Cassie shuddered. She needed someone to comfort her and tell her not to worry, a friendly face and a sympathetic listener. Her friend Tula never laughed at dreams. Cassie relied on her sympathy and understanding.

Tula knew a lot about dreams and how to interpret them. Whether she owed that to her Somali mother or to her Irish father, Cassie couldn’t quite decide.

Because it was Saturday, Cassie added lunch at Tula’s Tea Room to her list of errands. An urgent need to understand the dream and avoid a repeat of Ellie’s death drove her. Talking with Tula would help determine what to do. Where others might scoff or call it an ordinary nightmare, her friend would understand. She might know what it meant or at least what the rabbit signified. In any case, she was sure to have some advice.

* * * *

By eleven-thirty, Cassie finished her shopping and drove east to the Short North. The area, immediately adjacent to the Columbus Convention Center and just south of the Ohio State University, contained an eclectic collection of art galleries, restaurants, and trendy shops. Tula had chosen to locate her Tea Room here because the site lay close to her home in nearby Victorian Village and offered a ready source of customers who liked healthy food.

Cassie parked in the public lot a block from the Tea Room. The bright sunshine and the artwork in the galleries she passed buoyed her spirits.

Tula’s Tea Room occupied a converted storefront with the name painted in grass green letters across the front window. A lipstick red door marked the entrance. Inside, Cassie passed two couples at tables near the front entrance.

The red, greens, and sunny yellows Tula favored blended into a surprisingly harmonious whole. Green tablecloths covered the square tables while alternating yellow and red napkins marked each place. The black, ladder-backed wooden chairs had green seats to match the tablecloths. Cassie always glanced at the colorful series of bright watercolors by local artists covering the walls, promising herself to buy one soon.

Tula wasn’t at her usual station by the cashier’s counter, so Cassie picked up a menu and seated herself at the back near the beaded doorway to the kitchen. A low rhythmic chant floated from the block of speakers against the back wall. Cloves, cinnamon, and mint perfumed the air.

Surrounded by bright colors and the solid reality of the Tea Room, Cassie’s dream images receded. Now, her earlier fright seemed foolish, but she wanted and needed the reassurance Tula would offer. Cassie tried to be self-reliant yet could never match her friend’s confidence.

Looking at the menu, she tried to focus on the food, but the images of the dream rabbit, though less distinct, nagged her. Shifting in her chair, she placed the menu on the table.

A few minutes later, Tula, her peasant blouse dipping down on one brown shoulder and her African print skirt swirling, swept into the room through the beaded curtain. She carried a wooden tray with two yellow cups, a matching teapot, and two plates of sandwiches. She nodded to Cassie as she passed on her way to deliver the food to one of the couples in the front. When finished, she joined Cassie, bringing the pleasant reality of the cozy Tea Room with her as she slid onto the chair next to Cassie.

Tula always reminded Cassie of Iman, the model, with her tall, slim build and cafe au lait skin. Her elegant bones made her one of the most beautiful women Cassie had ever met. Her exotic aura promised many things.

By contrast, Tula always made her feel dumpy and dowdy. Cassie knew she looked so normal, so ordinary, so ... like the librarian she was. She hated appearing a stereotype, but trendy clothes or those six-inch boots some wore made her uncomfortable.

Morning, stranger, how’s dharma? Tula flashed her a warm, gleaming smile.

Frowning, Cassie fingered her skirt and then gazed up at her friend. Fine, I think.

Tula quirked an eyebrow at that. You don’t sound too sure. I’ll get us a pot of Tula’s Special and then we can talk. She patted Cassie’s hand and rose.

Bring me a hummus sandwich too, Cassie called after her.

Tula nodded as she hurried off to the kitchen. A few minutes later she returned with a large red teapot, two matching cups, and Cassie’s pita pocket sandwich. The rich aroma of mint and cloves scented the air.

After pouring them both cups of tea, Tula handed one to Cassie. All right, what’s so troubling this morning?

Cassie sipped the familiar spicy blend. Ah, nobody makes tea like you. She set her cup down and rubbed one hand with the other before looking up into Tula’s amber eyes. I ... I had a dream.

We all dream. She studied Cassie over the rim of her cup as if expecting more. Her intense gaze always saw too much for Cassie’s comfort.

Averting her eyes, Cassie focused on the steam as it rose in a thin spiral from the dark surface of the tea. The color of the tea reminded her of the eyes of the man in her dream.

This dream seemed so ... sort of real. Frankly, it scared the hell out of me. She shuddered.

Scared you? Tula arched an eyebrow as her dark eyes searched Cassie’s face. How?

The image of the menacing rabbit hovered before Cassie, but she waved a hand, and it fragmented and then disappeared. She sighed. Better start at the beginning.

First I saw this face, a man’s face. Actually, quite a nice face. He was ... going to kiss me. She gave Tula a half smile.

And? Tula frowned. That scared you?

No, of course not, but then this rabbit...

Tula’s eyes widened. Rabbit? As in bunny?

Cassie shook her head. Yeah, I know. A black rabbit, but rabbit isn’t the right word for this ... this creature. It had these large, sharp white teeth, curved claws, and ... it attacked the man. She quivered at the memory, seeing again the arc of the rabbit’s lithe body as it leaped.

So what happened?

I don’t know. I screamed and woke. Cassie stared down at her hands.

Then why are you so upset?

I’m not sure. She stopped and looked away. Then, seeing no help for it, she took a deep breath. I think it might be like Ellie Latham again. Her voice came out in low whisper.

Tula sat back and studied Cassie’s face. Her long fingers curled around her cup. Oh, one of those dreams.

Her eyes gazed at something far distant as the slender fingers of her right hand caressed the gold sun pendant she always wore. Spiky, triangular rays surrounded the sun disk. Cassie could never remember seeing Tula without it.

Did you recognize the man?

I’ve never seen him before or a creature like this.

"You’ve been watching too much television. Night of the Lepus aired a few weeks ago."

Cassie grimaced. You know me better than that. I never watch that stuff.

Maybe the rabbit’s a symbol.

Symbols have always been hard for me. Cassie sighed. Besides, if you ask me, it’s a lousy way to communicate.

Tula shook her head. Both my cultures have a rich history of symbols. She sat, chin propped in one hand, staring off into space for a moment.

Umm, I’d start with the surface first and worry about the symbols later. Since the man tried to kiss you, he may represent your desire for a social life. It’s time you forgot Rod and got out again. She grinned at Cassie.

Maybe your dream showed you the face of your one true love.

Sure. For a moment, the image of the man held Cassie’s attention. I’ll admit he wasn’t bad, but I’ve never been partial to red hair or freckles. She wrinkled her nose.

Tula, my problem isn’t the man. It’s that blasted rabbit.

The rabbit, Tula muttered, almost to herself, as she rubbed the sun disk Seek the light, seek the right. Then, eyes sparkling, she gave Cassie a mischievous grin. Rabbits multiply, rapidly. Maybe the dream foretells you and the man will have a large family.

I didn’t see any little rabbits. Cassie stared at Tula without seeing her. Instead, the awful rabbit filled her vision. This thing had teeth, the biggest, sharpest white teeth. It meant to kill. She shivered and rubbed her arms, suddenly cold despite the hot tea.

Reaching over, Tula patted her hand. Do you want me to read the Tarot cards?

The entry bell at the front rang, and Tula rose. I’m having my Ides of March party Friday. I want you to come and meet a few new friends.

Cassie hadn’t been to a party in almost a year, not even one of Tula’s. Maybe. I’ll think about it.

You need to get out, Cassie. These dreams prove it. I’ll expect you. May you walk in light. Tula’s hand slid from the sun pendant as she hugged Cassie and then she hurried off to greet her new customers.

Cassie leaned back and sipped her tea. Maybe she should go to Tula’s party. It would be wonderful if the rabbit wasn’t a threat, but her instincts rejected that. The dream had been too intense and too real. The rabbit meant harm. Shuddering again, Cassie clutched the teacup in front of her. The warmth of the tea pulled her back to reality.

People, lively conversation, and good food. Tula’s party would keep the rabbit and nightmares away. She might even find the man of her dream and solve this crazy puzzle. Next time, if she dreamed again, she vowed to control her dream and change it.

Tula’s Special Blend always made the world seen a brighter, better place. Cassie finished her sandwich in a happier mood. Stopping to leave the money for her meal by the cash register, she nodded to Tula as she left. Maybe Tula would see something in the cards.

Friday could solve her problems. Cassie snapped her fingers. So much for the rabbit and the man. She’d make them disappear next time.

Chapter Two

The setting sun bathed the office in a red light and turned Ian McLeod’s rolled-up shirt sleeves almost as red as the hair on his forearms. The freckles on his hands looked like scattered drops of blood in the dying light. He moved his arm, and the impression faded. Why should he have thoughts now about death and dying? Morbid thoughts had no place in his mind, not now when he planned to marry.

Outside, the red sunset faded to black. Ian sighed and stretched. Reaping the rewards of his hard work gave him a sense of satisfaction. He never regretted effort that brought results.

His business formed the core of his life. All through college, he had dreamed of starting his own company. Working in the large accounting firm of Deloitte and Touche only reinforced that desire. He wanted to control his life and his business. After passing his CPA exams, he dedicated everything he had to building the business.

Once he neared the goal and started to think about a life beyond his business, his trusted right-hand man James Harrison had robbed him of those dreams. Two years ago, when Ian discovered Harrison’s theft from client accounts had almost bled the business dry, a murderous rage had consumed him. Harrison’s treachery nearly destroyed the company, but the man died before he could face prison.

Harrison had done what all Ian’s competitors failed to do. Ian’s business faced bankruptcy. Deceived by a man he trusted hurt far more than the loss of the money. The money could be replaced. His trust could not.

Everything Ian had believed in and relied upon gave way beneath him, and he had scrambled to survive. Depressed, he had struggled to find some path to recovery. It took all Ian’s savings, loans from his mother, and a year of concentrated work to cover the losses from Harrison’s theft.

At least he had acted and moved forward. Angered by the betrayal, he had called the police to charge Harrison with felony embezzlement, but the man’s untimely death from a heart attack left Ian with no one to blame except himself. Neither he nor the police found any trace of the missing money, and he had been unwilling to sue the widow.

To his surprise, he discovered Harrison had left