Dream of Danger (A Brown and De Luca Novella) by Maggie Shayne

Author:Maggie Shayne [Shayne, Maggie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2013-10-31T16:00:00+00:00

I don’t know what the hell was going on and I didn’t want to think about it just then. Hell, when I was having visions—no, not visions, dreams—of serial murders, the one thing I had figured out was that there was no figuring it out. I could drive myself crazy, and damn near had, trying to understand why it was happening or how the hell it could be happening at all. None of that had helped. What had helped, finally, was just shutting up and paying attention. Looking for details in the dreams and following where they led.

This wasn’t the same thing. It wasn’t a dream. It was just a feeling. A lot like the feelings I get when I talk to people. The way I can tell when they’re lying and what kind of emotion is compelling them to: guilt or shame or pride or whatever. I can tell a lot about people. Some of it from the little telltale wavers and warbles and pitch of their voices. Some of it from something else. The energy they give off or whatever. It wasn’t ESP. There was no such thing as ESP. It was just the result of having been blind for twenty years, and having to learn to rely on my other senses.

This felt very similar. I knew Amy was in trouble just as sure as I’d known her boyfriend Mel was a lying sack of shit the first time I’d set eyes on him. And I also knew she was in the direction we were now heading. Now, maybe that was a little harder for me to explain. Maybe being blind for twenty years shouldn’t turn me into a human Amy detector. Maybe it made no sense at all. But it was happening, and I didn’t have time to try to make sense out of it right now. It had a logical explanation. Everything did. I’d figure it out in time.

Right now all that mattered was finding Amy before those two assholes in the pickup murdered her and dumped her in a swamp somewhere.

“Hey.” Mason put a hand over mine where they were folded in my lap. “You okay?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You’re trembling.”

“I do not tremble. I’m shivering. Turn up the fucking heat, why don’t you?”

He complied, even though he and I both knew I was shaking from fear, not cold. I could talk a big game, and he would always let me. It was one of the things I loved about him. Liked about him, I mean. His phone rang. He picked it up fast and hit the speaker button. “Detective Brown,” he said.

“Trooper Simpson,” the other guy replied. “Your MP bought gas here at 9:36 p.m. last night. Security footage shows that pickup was here at the same time. Two men in it, just like in the photo. There was no interaction between them. Ms. Montrose left alone. The pickup pulled out a minute and a half behind her.”

Mason looked at me. I looked back. “Anything else?” he asked.

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