by Jill Sanders
Whether she liked it or not, Drew was now her new boss. Could life get any worse?
She’d checked into a hole-in-the-wall hotel on the outskirts of town off Highway 23. It appeared to be the very same hotel in which Laura Schmitt, and her lover, Ray McGaven, had murdered Laura’s husband, Daniel, in cold blood for three million in insurance money.
The yellow police tape was still hanging up a few doors down on room number 18.
When she walked into her room, she shivered and thought about sleeping in her car instead. But common sense took over and she tossed her small bag on the tattered comforter. The bed didn’t even bounce, and she knew she was due for a long and sleepless night.
There was a small kitchen area with a fridge, sink, and stove, and she thought about stocking the fridge with some items.
Suddenly, she was standing in a brightly lit room. She had to blink several times for her eyes to adjust. Her entire body tingled, like she’d just stepped into a hot shower after being frozen.
She was so disoriented, that when she turned slightly, she bumped solidly into someone.
“Sorry,” a woman’s voice said.
She turned towards her and held her breath as she looked into green eyes. She tried to take in every detail, but before she could blink, the woman fell before her.
She reached out and caught her just before the woman’s head hit the side of a wood case holding a bunch of tomatoes. Someone screamed, and several people rushed towards her.
“What happened?” someone asked.
“I… she just passed out.”
A very large blond man stepped forward. “Christina?” He slapped the woman gently on her cheeks, then shook his head. “Someone go grab Jessie.” A young kid took off quickly.
She sat there, looking down at the woman. At Christina.
“Is she okay?” She looked up at the man.
“Sure, she does this all the time.” He frowned at her. “You’re new in town. Did you touch her?”
Something close to shock must have crossed her face, because the man just shook his head and chuckled. He shifted, then easily picked her up. “We’ll take care of her.” He winked at her and started walking away with the woman tucked in his massive arms. He stopped and glanced back at her. “If you’re sticking around, swing by the liquor store. I work the evening shift.” His smile widened. “I’ll make sure to give you a visitor’s discount.”
She shivered once more as the man walked away. She moved to the window and saw a sandy-haired woman rush from Coffee Corner, a place a few doors down. She reached over and felt Christina’s forehead, then nodded towards a truck. Brea watched the pair slide the unconscious woman in the back of the car. The woman climbed in next to her, then the man jumped behind the wheel and they took off.
“That happens a lot with them,” someone said from behind her. She almost jumped but caught herself in time.
“Will she be okay?” She turned to the older woman and smiled.
“She’ll be fine. I’m Clara.” She smiled and turned towards Brea. “I work at Café 23.” She pointed across the street from the Coffee Corner. “You’re new in town?”
She tried to calm herself down by taking a few deep breaths. “Yes, I’m a reporter.” This was real. It was happening. Now.
“Oh?” Clara frowned. “I suppose you’re in town to report on that mess that went on a few days back.” She nodded, her eyes once more going to the place where the truck had disappeared down the road. “It’s a shame,” Clara said, handing her a basket. “Walk with me while you do your shopping.” It wasn’t a request, so Brea decided to fall in step with the woman.
“If you ask me, Laura only married Daniel Schmitt for one thing.” She waited as the woman picked up a loaf of bread and tossed it in Brea’s basket. “Money,” she said under her breath. “Everyone knows that the Schmitts had loads of it. That girl was one of the most popular kids ever to barely graduate Hidden Creek High.” She shook her head and added a jar of peanut butter and a jar of jelly into Brea’s basket. She stopped when Brea frowned down at it. “You’re not allergic to peanuts, are you?”
“N-No, but I prefer creamy instead of crunchy.”
Clara shook her head and then swapped out the bottles. Brea continued to follow her through the aisles as she told Brea everything she knew about almost everyone in town, all while filling her basket with food Brea never would have purchased herself. To be honest, she doubted her little kitchen would accommodate the meals she was accustomed to cooking.
Less than an hour later, she left the store loaded down with finger food and a bunch of microwave meals. She’d been lucky enough to find her credit card in her back pocket, where she’d put it after paying for gas on her trip to Hidden Creek. Her purse was still in her hotel room along with her car keys. She’d walked the mile back to the hotel and, after asking the clerk to let her back into her room, she ran over the events of the last hour. The woman, Clara, had given her the scoop on the whole town, including Christina Warren and her new boyfriend, Michael Kincaid. She was still unsure how she’d ended up in the store in the first place, but remembered the day she’d dreamed of being there. Of having the exact situation happening.
Only after unloading all her new groceries did she realize that things had been different than in her dream.
Nothing she’d ever “dreamed” about had changed before. She sat down at her laptop and pulled out her notes.
She’d started writing a journal of her dreams shortly after her fifteenth birthday. Her father had taken her to a counselor who had suggested she jot them down and compare them to real life. Then she would see that she wasn’t actually seeing the future, but just daydreaming.
If anything, her journals had done the opposite. One hundred percent of the time, everything she’d ever dreamed had come true. All but this one time. This one small detail.
Christina hadn’t said, “Hidden Creek holds your fate” today before she’d passed out, nor had her eyes turned milky white.
Just remembering that part made Brea shiver. She took her time making her daily entry and then moved onto more research.
She was feeling a little tired and thought about flipping on the television and clocking out for a while, but suddenly, she felt her skin prickle.
She quickly grabbed her purse from the table. No way was she going to be left somewhere without what she needed.
Suddenly, she blinked against bright lights and looked up to see the words “Police Station” hanging over the door she was standing in front of.
She made a mental note that her skin tingled, like before, and she also took note of her entire body and what she’d been thinking of beforehand. Then she glanced down and smiled when she saw her purse was still in her hands. Score one for her.
“Well,” she said to herself, “looks like I’m visiting the police tonight.” She wondered if she would magically appear here again if she walked back to her hotel.
She was too tired to make the trek back to the hotel right now, so she decided not to fight it and opened the door to the station and stepped in.
When she walked in, there was a small party going on. Blue streamers and balloons hung from the ceiling.
The small waiting room was full of people celebrating.
Walking up to the counter, she smiled at the woman sitting behind it, eating a piece of cake.
“Hi, I’d like to speak with the officer in charge of the Schmitt case.” She held out her photo ID for the woman. So, she’d forgotten to turn in her WSB journalist ID. It wasn’t as if Drew had asked for it.
“That would be Jacob,” the woman said through a mouthful of cake. “Sorry, we’re celebrating Terry and Kelly’s baby.” She leaned forward and smiled. “They say that girl, the psychic, told them it’s a boy.” She leaned back and shook her head. “Any reason to eat free cake.” She shoved another forkful into her mouth and pointed with the empty utensil. “Jacob’s there.” She pointed to a tall good-looking man with dark brown hair. He w
as standing around, frowning at the people celebrating.
“Thank you.” She walked away from the woman and made her way across the room towards the officer.
“Are you Jacob?” She leaned closer and read his badge. “St. Clair?”
When she said his last name, he frowned even more. “I’m Jacob. What can I…” He dropped off when she showed him her ID. Then he sighed and ran his hands through his hair. The move was sexy as hell, stirring something deep in Brea’s mind and causing her body to react almost instantly.
Before she knew what was happening, he took her arm and pulled her into a side room, then shut the door, closing out all the sounds of the party.
“I’d hoped to keep this quiet, but I guess that was too much to ask for.”
“Mr.—”
“Just call me Jacob.” He frowned as he leaned against a desk. “And you were…” His eyes narrowed.
“Breanna,” she supplied. “I’m with WSB, a WBNR affiliate out of Atlanta.”
He nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. Her mouth went dry and her mind turned to jelly. What the hell was wrong with her?
Clearing her mind and her throat, she pulled out her phone from her purse, then held it up. “Is it okay if I record this?”
He took a deep breath and nodded.
An hour later, she let herself back into her hotel room. Tossing down her keys, she pulled out a frozen meal and heated it, then yanked off her shoes and wiggled her toes. The walk back to the hotel had been a long one. The shoes she was wearing were for looks, not a three-mile hike.
Sitting down, she flipped open her laptop and started typing. She only stopped to grab her food and a soda.
By the time she had everything down, the room was dark and she was fighting off sleep. Instead of crawling into bed, she picked up her phone, punched in Drew’s number, and waited.
“I’m here. I’m sending you my first report,” she said when he finally picked up.
“Jesus Christ, Brea. It’s…” She could tell he was looking at the clock. “Two in the morning.”
“Well, yeah, I got a late start. Besides, you did tell me that you wanted me to inform you of my every move.” She smiled and wondered if she’d also woken up whoever was currently lying next to her ex.
“Yeah, fine. Call me tomorrow.”
“Drew,” she said, stopping him from hanging up. “I wouldn’t have slept with you even if I’d known you were going to take over the station.”
She could just imagine him smiling and felt her teeth grit.
“Sure,” he said sarcastically. “Guess that’s why I’m keeping you around. It gives me something to work for.”
She hung up without batting an eye.
Deciding she would rather fall asleep in her clothes than crawl between the sheets and chance whatever was in there waiting for her, she rested on top of the comforter and closed her eyes.
As she drifted off to sleep, she thought about running into Christina at the grocery store. About the differences between her dream and reality. What did it mean? She thought about how twice today she’d… teleported. She shivered and tried not to think about it.
“Hidden Creek holds your fate,” Christina had said in her dream.
She felt her entire body slowly relax as she let her mind settle.
Suddenly, she found herself in a dark field. The bright stars and moon shone above her, making everything glow, showing her the way as she walked. She didn’t know what kept her moving forward, only that it was important.
She stopped at the opening of a large cave, feeling something beckoning her inward. Step after step, she moved as if in a trance.
When she entered, she realized it wasn’t a natural cave, but a tunnel. The entrance had been covered with thick brush, but when she entered, some light shone through, sending an eerie red haze to light her way.
She was just inside the mouth of the tunnel when a bright white light turned on at the end, blinding her and sending her falling to her knees.
Her hands and knees screamed out as she fell onto the rocky ground. Small, sharp pebbles buried themselves deep under the first layer of her skin.
She cried out as the bright light got closer to her. She shielded her eyes so it wouldn’t blind her, but even then, the light seared into her mind.
She woke, screaming and breathless.
Jumping up, she turned on the light. Once the brightness washed over her, she saw that her hands were bleeding. Rushing into the bathroom, she glanced down at her clothes and frowned when she saw fresh mud and a huge rip in the knees of her jeans.
Ethan lay in his barracks after a full day of travel. In fewer than fifteen hours, they’d ship out from the base in Germany. Only he and his men knew where their next stop would be.
He ran over the plans in his mind. Everything should run smoothly. Then why did he have a nagging feeling in his gut that something had already turned against them? Maybe he should tell his commanding officer.
What? What would he say? Sir, I have this feeling. Shit!
He rolled over and shut his eyes, then took a couple deep breaths.
Instead of the stale smell of men, clean wool blankets, and floor cleaner, he was bombarded with the soft scent of a woman in a shower.
Opening his eyes, he blinked a few times as the water dripped from his face. There, standing less than a foot from him, was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Her eyes were closed as the water washed over her face and long hair. She was facing slightly away from him, so he couldn’t see much more than her perfect backside and the profile of her face. His eyes ran over her and he noticed she had a small tattoo on her right hip of three circles, all tangled with one another.
The shower was… hell, he knew this shower. It was at Mike’s new place. What the hell was he doing in Hidden Creek? And who was this sexy woman standing naked in front of him.
Just then, she turned slightly towards him, her eyes slid open, and a slow smile formed on her lips.
“You’re not supposed to get that wet,” she said, glancing down at his arm.
He looked down and saw a white bandage covering his upper arm and shoulder. It jarred him awake from the dream.
Blinking a few times, he focused on Nick’s face, one of the guys in his fireteam.
“Sorry, sir.” He smiled. “Sounds like it was a good dream. But, it’s time.” He nodded, then turned and left.
Ethan sat up, rubbing his hands over his face. Glancing down at his shoulder, he sighed and wondered what the hell was wrong with him.
Chapter 3
Brea stood under the hot shower for as long as she could, her mind racing over what she’d seen. Had she really transported to that tunnel, like she had to the store and the police station? Or had it been a dream incident?
She glanced down at her feet. She’d woken with her shoes off. Wouldn’t her feet be cut up from the sharp rocks? She sat on the edge of the tub and looked at the bottom of her feet. They were perfect. No cuts, no scrapes.
When she’d appeared in the grocery store, she’d been exactly as she had been moments before. And again, at the police station, she’d had her purse, which she’d grabbed right before arriving there.
She was seriously thinking about keeping her keys and a credit card on her at all times. It might not even hurt to sleep with her tennis shoes on.
She glanced down at herself now and cringed when she thought of appearing somewhere like she was now.
Flipping off the water, she grabbed a towel and dressed in record time.
Nothing was making sense. If only there was a clue as to why she was disappearing and reappearing places.
First, it had been to the grocery store to fulfill her dream. Then she had appeared at the police station, which she hadn’t dreamed about at all. As she sat down to her computer, she thought about making a trip there to check in. After all, it was standard practice when doing research on a crime.
It was almost an hour before the sun would be up, and she spent t
hat time digging deeper into the town of Hidden Creek.
Over the years, there had been plenty of strange things that had happened in town, but none of them were this odd. A group of teenagers had disappeared in the late eighties, but the official ruling was they had run away and joined a cult.
There were small, everyday crimes, but nothing out of the ordinary. She reread everything she could find on the Warren’s car accident, but so far, she hadn’t found anything other than the fact that it had been ruled an accident.
At sunup, she was even more tired than before falling into bed. Her phone rang at nine, and she groaned when she was Drew’s number on the screen.
“What’s this crap you sent me?” he said when she answered.
“Hello, Drew.” She closed her eyes and rested her head on the desk.
“You call this investigative journalism?”
“Which part?” She sighed and flipped open the file she’d sent him.
“Everything. Have you interviewed this Christina Warren yet? What about the wife?” She heard his computer keys punching away. “Laura? How do we know they aren’t in it together?”
“Well, as it clearly says in my—”
“I’ve read it three times. I’m telling you, there aren’t any hard facts. Get some before you send me anything else.” The line went dead and she wondered what she’d seen in the man in the first place.
Pulling out a blueberry yogurt, she decided to hit the pavement.
By the end of the day, she was exhausted. She’d had a sandwich at Café 23 and talked to the locals, but everything she learned was gossip at best.
There’d been no more teleportation incidents that day, but she didn’t want to chance it anyway and kept on her shoes and clothes as she crawled onto the bed.
She was even too tired to jot down notes from the day. Her mind slipped into sleep, and she’d been out less than an hour when pain woke her.
She doubled over as a bright light seared into her mind. Then, as quickly as it came, it was gone.
When she opened her eyes. She was standing in a field, and someone was holding her hand. Something was calling her away from that moment. When she looked over, the light hit her once more, causing her to double over in pain again. Then there was only darkness.