Dream Walk

by Melissa Bowersock

  “Pretty well, mostly,” Adrian said. He grabbed another chair and dragged it over next to Sam’s and settled into it. “We took four of ‘em alive; two were killed in the firefight.”

  “Willie?”

  “Got him. Matched the prints from your hotel room to two of the guys in the truck. Matched the bullets in your car to a gun found with the Escalade.”

  “And do you know who they work for? Is it one of your big three?”

  The grin grew wider and very self-satisfied. “Yes. It goes back to Macias. One of the guys we brought in has been singing like a bird. Scared shitless of going to jail, so he’s begging for a plea deal with immunity for his full testimony. We’ll just need to connect the dots with indisputable physical evidence.”

  “Evidence.” She swallowed. “Like Kyle’s body? And”—she glanced at Sam—“there were others?”

  “Yes,” Adrian said in a quieter, more respectful tone. “There were three bodies there. We’ve got the names; now we’re just confirming their identities.”

  “So Kyle really was… folded up?” she asked in a small voice.

  Adrian nodded. “All of them were. Folded up, stuffed into boxes and encased in concrete.”

  Lacey remembered seeing the thugs struggle to load the heavy boxes, and shuddered. “How awful.”

  “Yeah. These guys are real animals. It does my heart good when we can throw a few of them in cages. Make the streets of Las Vegas a little safer for people to walk.”

  “For sure,” Lacey said. “Oh, what about Courtney? Is she…?”

  “We’ve got her, too,” Adrian said. “She was roughed up some, but alive. I daresay she’ll take you up on your offer of a bus ticket out of Vegas.”

  The door opened and the nurse came in with a glass of juice for Lacey. She was followed closely by Detective McLeary.

  “Lacey Fitzpatrick not-related-to-Fiona,” he greeted her heartily. “How are you, girl?”

  Lacey grinned and took the offered juice. “Dry,” she said, and sipped the cold liquid. The taste and moisture did rapturous things to her mouth.

  “It was good of you to kick over a few rocks and uncover those cockroaches for us,” he said. He stood on her other side, belly forward. Lacey had a sense of him being so proud he might pop a few buttons on his shirt. “Helped me stamp ‘closed’ on a couple of my files. Not to mention what you did for DelMonico here.”

  His pleased expression took in Adrian and Sam. He stuck out a hand across Lacey’s body.

  “And you must be her Sam,” he said. “Sam who dreams of dead people. Pleased to meet you.”

  Sam took the offered hand. “Nice to meet you, too,” he said.

  “Never knew Indians had the sight,” McLeary said. “Guess you can make up for the lack of it in our girl, here.” McLeary beamed, completely unaware—or unconcerned—that his words might have a racial undertone.

  “Now, hold on,” Lacey said. “I have my own skills.”

  “That she does,” Sam agreed, his eyes laughing. “Even after she’d been shot, she was still fighting me to get back into the action. She’s a bulldog.”

  She opened her mouth to say something, but couldn’t think what to say. She might have taken issue with Sam’s words, but she couldn’t with his tone. Admiration. Respect.

  Love.

  “She’s that, and more,” McLeary agreed. “You both are.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t imagine you two would think about staying here in Vegas, would you? We could use you around here.”

  Sam and Lacey exchanged startled looks.

  “Wait a minute,” she said. “Are you offering us jobs?”

  “Well, I don’t rightly know of any job descriptions to match you two, but I’d wager something could be worked out. I’m guessing we’d have enough work to keep you busy.”

  “Hey, my department would want in on that, too,” Adrian said. He winked at Lacey.

  She laughed. “Thanks, guys, but I think we’ll both be glad to get back to LA.” She glanced at Sam and caught his small nod, his eyes dancing. “But,” and she turned back to McLeary, “anytime you hit a brick wall, give us a holler. We’ll be glad to help you out if we can.”

  “Hit a brick wall,” he muttered. “You’re a sassy lass. I daresay they’re wasting a bed on you here. If you can dish out the sass like that, you’re needing no doctoring.”

  “And I’ll have something to say about that,” the nurse said. She pushed past Adrian and Sam, a blood pressure cuff in hand. “Why don’t you fellas clear out for a few minutes and let me do my job with Ms. Fitzpatrick here? Go get some breakfast down in the cafeteria or something.”

  Sam and Adrian pulled their chairs aside to make room for the nurse.

  “You’ll be okay?” Sam asked Lacey.

  “Sure,” she said. “I’m fine. But you could bring me back a couple pieces of bacon.”

  “I’ll bring you something,” the nurse said. “Jell-o or maybe a bit of pudding.” She impaled Sam with a stern look. “NO bacon. Now, out.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” McLeary said, saluting. The three men filed toward the door. Sam tossed a smile at her over his shoulder.

  The nurse chuckled as she applied the cuff to Lacey’s right arm. “You’ve got quite a group of admirers there,” she said.

  “Yeah,” Lacey laughed. “I do, don’t I?”

  ~~~

  SIXTEEN

  Sam was back at lunch time. Lacey had eaten a little breakfast—Jell-o, ugh—and had napped afterward. She awoke to find him back in his chair.

  “Hi,” she said sleepily.

  “Hi. How are you?” He took her hand.

  “I’m good. Oh—” She moved too fast and her shoulder pained. “Yeah, okay. Maybe not good, but all right. What have you been doing?”

  “Spent some time with your insurance agent down at the Metro yard,” he said. “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

  “Oh?” she asked.

  “Your car.” He sighed. “They’re going to total it.”

  “What? Blanche?” She tried to sit up, got slammed back down by the pain. “Shit, that hurts. But they can’t do that. I’ll get those bullet holes fixed.”

  He shook his head. “The police did a very thorough job digging the bullets out of that door panel and the back seat. The car is completely trashed. I’m just glad the same guys didn’t work on getting the bullet out of you. Anyway, I extended the lease on the rental and we can turn it in when we get back to LA.”

  “Aww.” Lacey pouted. “Poor Blanche. After all we’ve been through.”

  “I also called your parents,” he said. “They’d like you to call them when you feel up to it.”

  She regarded him quietly. “Anything else?”

  “I put Courtney on a bus to Phoenix.”

  “How is she?”

  “Oh, shaky. Pretty bruised up by the rough handling. Once she gets back to her folks in Phoenix, she can rest up there.”

  “You’ve been busy,” she noted.

  He shrugged. “Things need to get done. And you’re not going anywhere until at least tomorrow, maybe Monday.”

  “Yeah, that’ll drive me crazy,” she muttered.

  “You’ll live.” His dark eyes glittered at her. “You need to be taken care of.”

  She wanted to bristle at the inference that she was weak, but his tone told her he meant it in the best way. She squeezed his hand.

  “You take care of me,” she said softly.

  He nodded. “That’s what partners do.”

  ~~~

  SEVENTEEN

  Three days later, she tried to use her left arm for the hundredth time and the pain lanced through her. She hissed in a breath and tried to figure out how the hell she was going to unscrew the cap off a new jar of pickles with only one arm. Fuming, she sat down, held the jar between her thighs and twisted with all the strength in her right arm.

  Almost there…

  Her phone rang.

  “Son of a …” She set the still capp
ed bottle of pickles aside and picked up her phone.

  Sam.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Hey, back. What are you doing?”

  “Trying to open a jar of frickin’ pickles,” she fumed.

  She heard him chuckle. “What kind are those? Are they like dill pickles, or sweet pickles, or…?”

  “Shut up,” she said, but there was no sting to her words. “You try being a one-armed cripple.”

  “I know, it’s tough. So I’m coming to your rescue.”

  “Huh?” She sat up.

  “The kids and I are going out to dinner. Wanna come?”

  “On a school night?”

  “Eh. I’m making up for missing last weekend.”

  “Sure,” she said. That sounded great. She’d only been home a day and a half and she was already going bonkers.

  “Be there in a few.”

  She rushed to get ready. Everything took longer with her bum arm, from pulling on a clean t-shirt to brushing her hair. When she heard a cacophony of light knocks on her door, she opened it to Kenzie’s smiling face.

  “Lacey!” the nine-year-old squealed. She rushed in for a hug and Lacey had to turn sideways to keep her left arm safe.

  “Careful, kiddo,” Sam said. “Remember what I told you about her arm.”

  Lacey gathered the girl to her with her right arm and hugged her tight. Daniel, at thirteen, was not crazy about ‘childish’ hugs. Lacey ruffled his hair instead. “You’re almost as tall as me, now,” she said. “Pretty soon you’ll be looking down at your dad.”

  “Dad said you got shot,” Kenzie said. Daniel, trying not to be too obvious, stared at the bandage around her arm.

  “That’s right,” she said. She turned so both kids could see the bandage and the sling that held her arm. “We were stopping some bad guys, and they didn’t like it.”

  “Dad said you saved his life.”

  Lacey glanced up at Sam. “Well, maybe,” she said. She remembered the way she’d kept the SUV from pulling up to the storage unit they were in. If it had succeeded, she and Sam could have been mown down. “He saved me, too,” she said. “He pulled me out of the gunfight when I got shot. So I guess we saved each other.”

  “Seems like this kind of stuff is getting to be a habit with this group,” Sam said.

  Lacey tilted her head at Daniel. “And you and I will both have the scars to prove it.”

  Daniel grinned. He held up the hand he’d used to deflect a bullet fired by a classmate the year before. The palm of his hand, where the bullet had entered, still had a round scar.

  Lacey high-fived his hand, then couldn’t restrain herself anymore. She slipped her right arm around him and hugged him.

  He didn’t even pretend he wasn’t hugging back.

  “So, dinner, huh?” Lacey said once she’d let him slide away. “That’s good, because I was having no luck at all with that frick—that stupid pickle jar.” She eyed the offending jar that sat on the counter.

  “I’ll tell you what,” Sam said with a self-satisfied smile. “I’ll just do that for you now. Then whenever you get a pickle craving, you’ll be home free.” He took the jar and gave it a wrench. The lid broke free with a resounding pop.

  “That didn’t seem so hard,” he said.

  “I loosened it for you,” Lacey muttered.

  Sam smothered a laugh. “No doubt.” He came to her and slid an arm around her waist, careful not to bump that arm. “I was actually telling the kids that you’re going to need assistance like this for a while. We all agreed we’d like to help you out.”

  “Oh?” She arched an eyebrow at him, then stared suspiciously at the snickering kids. Kenzie hid her smile behind her hand.

  “Yeah. You need someone with you, at least until that arm heals. I was thinking we could combine households for a while.”

  “Combine—” She stared up at him blankly.

  “Either I could move in here, or you could move into my place. Whichever; it doesn’t matter.”

  Lacey was speechless. Her brain refused to process his proposal. She glanced from Sam to the kids, all of them showing some form of a pleased, expectant smile.

  “This isn’t a dinner invitation,” she said. “It’s an ambush.”

  Sam laughed. “Yeah, it kind of is. What do you say?”

  “But, but…” It crossed her mind that this conversation would be much better suited to the privacy of two adults, instead of a family discussion. But she didn’t have that option.

  “Listen,” Sam said. “Let’s just try it, okay? If, after a month or so, you feel strong enough and want to go solo again, you can kick me out. If not…” He shrugged. “After all, weren’t you the one who said to follow this thing and see where it took us?”

  Kenzie stepped forward and took Lacey’s right hand. “Please, Lacey? It’ll be great. We can play games and have lots of fun together. Do you like miniature golf?”

  Lacey glanced around at the three copper-colored faces, all waiting for her reply. Kenzie, pleading sweetly. Daniel, silent but those dark eyes, so like his father’s, hopeful. And Sam, staring down at her. Offering love and friendship in whatever capacity she’d be willing to accept.

  Ambushed or not, it was an enticing offer. She felt his arm around her, strong and supportive. Saw the promise in his eyes. No demands; they’d work it out as they went. They were, after all, a great team.

  She squeezed Kenzie’s hand and smiled. “Actually,” she said, “I love miniature golf.”

  ~~~

  Look for

  DRAGON Walk

  Book 5 of the Lacey Fitzpatrick and Sam Firecloud mystery series.

  I sincerely hope you enjoyed reading this book as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you did, I would greatly appreciate a short review on Amazon or your favorite book website. Reviews are crucial for any author, and even just a line or two can make a huge difference. --MJB

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Melissa Bowersock is an eclectic, award-winning author who writes in a variety of fiction and non-fiction genres: contemporary, western, action, romance, fantasy and spiritual, satire and biography. She lives in a small community in Arizona with her husband and an Airedale terrier.

  For more information, visit

  http://www.newmoonrising.net

  or

  http://www.melissabowersock.com

  Find Me Online on Twitter and Facebook or visit my blog at:

  http://mjb-wordlovers.blogspot.com

  BOOKS BY MELISSA BOWERSOCK

  The Appaloosa Connection (Western Adventure)

  When Ross Garvey's prized Appaloosa is stolen from his Colorado ranch, he fully intends to hunt down the thieves in their New Mexico hideout and regain his best broodmare. What he doesn't count on is bull-headed, fifteen year old Jaimie Callahan, whose horse was also stolen by the same thieves. And he certainly does not anticipate the beautiful Mexican girl who's dealing with the thieves, nor the fact that an entire company of Mexican troops is in on the deal!

  The Blue Crystal (Fantasy)

  In the realm of Zor, the tyrant Mal-Zor is maniacal in his quest for the mythical Blue Crystal of power sends generations of innocents to their deaths in the crystal mines. Jared, a young farmer from a small isolated village, has paid scant attention to the distant troubles until his younger siblings are taken as slaves. Jared vows to free them and his quest soon becomes enmeshed in the most magical power struggle imaginable. Accompanied by a recalcitrant halfling, mounted on a huge black lion and supported by an aging wizard and his daughter, Jared prepares to challenge the king and claim his hidden destiny.

  Burning Through (Paranormal Suspense/Romance)

  When Jennifer and Robert Stinson buy a beautifully restored Victorian house, the last thing they expect is to share their home with a ghost―especially one with a penchant for setting fires. Unfortunately the ghostly arson only creates more tension in their already strained marriage. Jen launches her own investigation into the history of her house and
discovers a surprising ally in a sympathetic fire captain. But can she unravel the mystery of the fires before they consume her home, her marriage … and her life?

  Finding Travis (Time Travel)

  No Time for Travis: Book 1

  Travis Merrill’s life isn’t going according to plan. He’s quit several career paths, his wife has left him, and his only solace is volunteering to portray a cavalry surgeon at historic Fort Verde in Arizona, a place where time seems to stand still. When a weird trick of time actually sends him back to the year 1877, he’s boxed into impersonating the post surgeon for real. Unfortunately, he finds his medical knowledge is no match for the primitive practices of the day, and he’s forced to make life or death decisions, not always successfully. He wonders if he will ever be able to return to his own time, or if he might find a life—and a love—140 years in the past.

  Being Travis (Time Travel)

  No Time for Travis: Book 2

  Two years ago, a weird trick of time sent Travis Merrill spiraling from 2016 to the year 1877. Committed now to his life in frontier Arizona, Travis is married with a child on the way and is homesteading a ranch. His knowledge of the future, however, keeps him at odds with his neighbors, his friends… and his wife. He finds it more and more difficult to protect his home without alienating his family, yet he can’t ignore what he knows is – and will be – true.

  Fleischerhaus (Paranormal Suspense/Romance)

  Julia Martin, newly-divorced but still reeling from her husband’s infidelity, takes a much needed vacation to visit old college friends in Germany. While touring a little-known concentration camp and museum, she spontaneously experiences a violent past life memory of being murdered in this very camp during the Holocaust. Efforts to understand her memories only lead to more questions, the largest being: is her killer still alive? Supported by her friends and comforted in the arms of a handsome doctor, Julia strives to uncover the mysteries of her past life and find justice for the person she used to be.