An Insomniacs Dream

An Insomniacs Dream

By Allison Cosgrove

An Insomniacs Dream © 2015 by Allison Cosgrove

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

First edition February 2015

ISBN-13: 978-1507696217

To The Faithful.

Thanks for waiting for this one.

Prologue

Where was she?

The street she was walking along did not seem all that familiar to her; there were colonial style houses with their little white picket fences on either side in neat little rows. Like something you would see in a movie. There was nothing to really distinguish where it was that she had found herself.

She continued down the street. She somehow knew where she was headed, but still nothing seemed to fit to her. This certainly wasn’t her street. She lived in the city in a three-story walk-up apartment building on a busy street. There were no walk-ups in sight and this certainly did not classify as a busy street. She had not even seen one car pass her. Judging by how dark it was and how many lights were on in the houses she was passing she would put the time well past midnight.

What the hell was she doing out here?

There, in front of her was a house that seemed to strike a chord of familiarity with her somehow, even though she was more than certain that she had never seen it in her life. It looked pretty much like all the others on the street; the garage in front of the house providing a nice sheltered front porch. The more she studied the house, the more certain she was that she had not been here before. However she soon found her feet pulling her up the walkway that ran parallel to the driveway and up onto the front porch.

She heard a sound and looked back. Her eyes scanning the street for any sign of what could have been responsible for the rustling noise she heard.

Nothing was moving on the street; the streetlights showed nobody.

She turned back to the door and found herself once again not in control of her body and watched as she pulled a set of keys out of a coat pocket and started reaching for the door.

Once again, she heard the rustling sound just off to the left and turned just in time to see a man climbing his way over the railing that closed in the porch.

Almost frozen with fear she felt the keys slip through her fingers and heard them hit the ground at her feet. The man heard the keys and looked up at her.

She couldn’t see his face for the light from the street did not reach that far onto the porch, however there was a glint in his eyes and she saw the knife in his hand reaching for her.

The shock was gone and as she was suddenly able to regain control over her body, she turned and ran off the porch and back into the street with the man running after her. She had never been athletic but she certainly wasn’t out of shape either. In that very moment she felt as though she had never spent a day working out. There was a heavy feeling in her chest making it feel like it was on fire. Her breath was coming out in harsh gasps as she tried to put some distance between herself and her assailant.

As she ran she tried to call out for help but for some reason the most sound that she could make was that of a mouse's squeak.

She took a chance and looked back over her shoulder; he had almost caught up with her and this was the chance the man needed to bridge the gap between them.

He lunged at her and took her down in a football style tackle, both of them landing in a pile on the ground. She managed to turn herself as she struggled to escape his grasp but found herself losing strength.

She saw the hand with the knife coming at her…

Beth suddenly woke up and was back in her room in her walk-up apartment; it had all been a dream. A nightmare.

Or had it? Had it really been a nightmare this time? Or was it something more?

Chapter 1

Stan rubbed his eyes and glanced at the clock. It was almost ten-thirty on Friday night and he was still at the office filling out paper work. It had been another one of those weeks where he wished he had chosen to go on a vacation. He really did not care where he was, he just didn’t want to find himself dealing with another senseless, preventable death.

This time it was another episode of violence in schools. There was a time where the one place other than home that you could have been one hundred percent sure that your child was going to be safe was at school. Now in the age of technology no place is truly safe anymore. People still found ways to get to each other.

In the old days the worst that would happen if you tried to pick up some other guy’s girl, you and that guy would have it out in the school parking lot. Hand to hand. Now if you did that you had twenty guys on you and weapons were always lurking in the shadows.

The kids this time were doing just that. As it turned out, the two boys involved were both after the same girl. Albeit she was pretty by today's standards, however she wasn’t what Stan would call a knockout or anything, nor did Stan believe that she would become one. She simply had too much of the commercialization that plagued today's society.

The boys, just 16 and 17 respectively, had decided that they would settle things the old fashioned way, and that the winner would get the girl. The problem was that both boys brought backup and soon enough a huge fight had broken out in the back lot behind the school, complete with a couple of switchblades and someone had stated that they might have seen a gun, although one wasn’t recovered at the scene.

It turned out that one of the boys who had initiated the fight had been killed and the other was seriously wounded and still unconscious in the hospital and the doctors didn’t know if he would make it. Additionally, there had been several other victims with varying injuries.

He had spent the week with his partner Jane, tracking down all the kids involved and taking statements. After that it was all just a matter of piecing the parts together. Some weapon charges had been laid, but nothing really substantial. The kids who were charged would more than likely get off with probation and then once they turned 18 their juvenile records would be sealed and that would be the end of that. They would be free to live their lives again.

Hopefully they will not be making that mistake again, Stan thought saying a tiny prayer that this would be the end of the destruction for them.

The door to his office swung open and in walked his partner Jane.

Well, well, well. What do we have here? Is this Detective Stanley Brookshire doing paper work at this hour? Shouldn’t you be home with your cat?

Stan shot her a look. His cat, Sammy, had been her boys' idea. They hadn’t wanted him to be lonely. Half the time though Jane treated Sammy more like Stan’s son than a pet.

Yeah well someone has to fill out all of this paperwork you know. It’s not like I see you doing it.

"Oh yeah right. You act as though I always leave the paper work for you. Which of course would not be true in the slightest. And if you need me to confirm that I will just go to the records room and check out the last 30 or so cases we worked on and see whose name is on more of the paper work. Yours or mine. How's about that?"

Now hold on a second; I don’t think that will be necessary. We both know that you do the paper work while I go out and catch the sons of bitches that perpetrate the crimes.

Oh and I have nothing to do with that either, I suppose

Nope. Not a thing, Stan said smirking as he went back to the papers he was just about finished filling out.

Jane flopped down in the chair that sat on the opposite side of his desk and started sifting through the mountains of paper that sat there. As she moved pieces around she handled them as if they were coated in an invisible layer of toxic waste. Although half of them were covered with dust, the other half looked like they had sat there since the invention of dust. Of course it was not the case at all. Stan had only been a member of the Homicide department for the last six years and her partner for the last four, since he had been transferred over from the Organized Crime Unit after his partner had been shot and killed on a take down gone bad.

It was something that just was not spoken about anymore. There really was nothing left to say about it except that it had happened and his life hadn’t been the same since.

Alright, I think I am just about done with all that nonsense now. However, you may want to look over it all just to make sure that I have dotted all my I's and crossed all of my T's.

Yeah with your record of doing paper work I think I had better do a once over on it. You know, the rare occasion that you actually do some of the paper work, I have to sit back and wonder whether you remember how since you do it so infrequently.

Ah but my dear Jane! It is so much like riding a bike: once you have learned it you do not just unlearn it or forget about it! There is no way that I would make an error filling them out.

Stan watched as Jane started reading over the papers he had handed her. She was unusually quiet as she read. He almost thought that he had filled them out right this time when a grin spread across her face.

AHA! Gotcha! I knew it was too good to be true. You used the wrong ‘meet’. You meant to put M-E-E-T and you actually put M-E-A-T.

Leave it to you to find something like that. Man I never would have noticed it.

I know and that is exactly why it is always a good idea to have someone else look over any work you do. A second set of eyes always comes in handy. Even I have someone look over everything I hand in. Just to be sure. There is never such thing as too much double checking.

You? Of all people, I’d never have thought that you would have someone check over your work. Hey wait a second you have never asked me before.

That is because I know you and I also know that paper work is not high on your priority list. Therefore if I were to have you look over something you would just give it a cursory glance and tell me that it was fine. You can’t do that; when you sign your name to a report it has to be picture perfect - otherwise some creep’s lawyer could get them off on some obscure loophole involving reports not being filled out correctly

I would not! I would at least try to make sure that there was nothing majorly wrong with it. I am the last person who would want any of these scumbags back out on the street with normal pe--

Stan? Jane? I am glad you haven’t left yet. A young officer now stood in the doorway to his office, breathing heavily as if he had run from the other end of the department.

What can I do for you Officer Mathers?

There has been a reported kidnapping and the Chief wants to see you in his office as soon as he gets here. He is en route now.

Stan and Jane looked at each other, their eyes both communicating the same thoughts. One, when were they supposed to sleep and two, since when did two homicide detectives work kidnapping cases?

Well then, I guess we had best go and get ourselves freshened up now shouldn’t we Jane? We wouldn’t want to keep the Chief waiting, would we? Stan said dismissing Officer Mathers with a nod and a smile

Grabbing his shave kit from his desk drawer where he kept it for just such occasions, he followed Jane out the door closing it behind him.

Chief of Police Tony Di Organza met them in the hallway ten minutes later once they had freshened up. They followed the Chief down the long corridors to his office, which was by far one of the biggest rooms in the department. The Chief had complained on more than one occasion, to anyone who was listening about its décor. With its rich dark wood panels and the heavy oak desk and chair that was flanked by, not only the city's flag but also the country's, it reminded him more of the mayors office than that of a Police Chief's. However the Chief had no more choice in the décor than his predecessors had or successors would. They could have it changed to something more simplistic and far more suitable but that would take money, money that the police department could find better uses for.

Once they had all entered the room he asked them to close the door and be seated.

Okay Chief. What’s going on? How come we are getting pulled in on a kidnapping case? Last check we were homicide detectives that worked murders and the like.

You really don’t know the meaning of the word ‘patience’ do you? the Chief of Police Tony Di Organza said shaking his head as he picked up some papers that had been left for him on his desk. If you must know, the reason we are pulling you in on this one is because the husband of the victim asked for you. He remembers how you handled other cases in the past and since your docket is empty at the moment I did not think you two would mind the change of pace for a bit.

"That is the thing