The Monster Underneath by Matthew Franks

Author:Matthew Franks [Franks, Matthew]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: psychic, secret program, first person, dreamwalking, serial killer, Texas, FBI, dreams
Publisher: Matthew Franks
Published: 2017-01-09T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Unnerved by what I had witnessed, I withdrew from the dream and back into the holding area. I stepped outside into the hallway and immediately headed toward Linden’s office.

Halfway down the hall, I heard a commotion near the front of the jailhouse. I moved closer and saw a crowd a people outside, pressed up against the glass doors and looking in by the light of dawn. Keeping my distance, I soon saw the source of their interest. Standing in the reception area and solemnly wearing a black dress was none other than Olivia Knox. I started to attempt to read her mind, but Linden suddenly grabbed my arm.

“We can’t let her see you,” he said. “It could jeopardize everything.”

Without argument, I followed him down the hallway. “What is she doing here?” I asked.

“Well,” he answered as he walked briskly toward the back door. “She either really misses her husband or decided to make a well-timed appearance before his trial. I’m going with the latter.”

He opened the back door of the jailhouse and led me outside, where the familiar black sedan was already waiting. Linden opened the door to the backseat and motioned me inside. I hesitated, knowing full well it would be hours before we talked again and that my retention of Knox’s dream might suffer.

“I have to tell you something,” I said.

“We don’t have time,” he said. “We need to get you out of here.”

“How did Knox’s grandmother die?” I persisted.

Linden sighed and looked in through the open door at the driver. “Just a second, Joe,” he said and closed the door. “Type-1 diabetes accidental insulin overdose. Why?”

“In the last dream, Knox gave her a shot and watched her die. I think he might have killed her.”

He shook his head. “Impossible,” he said. “He was in college at the time. Her hospice nurse normally administered her shot, but nobody showed up that day. She misread the dosage, self-administered, and was found dead the next day.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” he said. “I read the coroner’s report, police report, everything. Knox was two hours away, sitting in English 101, when it happened.”

“Maybe he skipped class that day and went home.”

“Nope. They confirmed he was at the university at the time of death.”

“Are you sure? I saw him stick the needle in her arm.”

“Again, not possible. The insulin wouldn’t even have been administered that way. Knox must’ve made the whole thing up in his head.”

“Why would he do that?”

“You tell me. You’re the psychologist. Don’t get me wrong. It would be great if he killed his grandmother. At least then we’d have something to work with.” He opened the car door again. “Now go to the hotel and get some rest,” he added.

Despite my disbelief, I nodded and got into the car. We quickly drove away and Linden went back inside. As we rode past the front of the jailhouse and onto the main road, I looked back to see if Veronica Alexander was among the mob leering in at Olivia Knox.

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