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A Novel by Roseanne Dowell
Strange, realistic dreams and visions disrupt Rebecca Brennan’s life, especially when she actually feels someone’s pain. Determined to find who shares her mind, Rebecca takes a leave of absence from work to search for her mind connection. Her search leads her to a small town filled with Victorian homes and interesting people.
Connections of the Mind
Roseanne Dowell
MuseItUp Publishing
www.museituppublishing.com
Chapter One
“No!” Rebecca sprang up in bed. Hot searing pain bore into her shoulder. What was happening to her? A warm sticky substance flowed from her shoulder. Oh God, there was going to be blood. From the feel of it, lots of blood. Half afraid to look, her hand trembled as she slowly brought it in front of her face and looked at it. Dry, no blood. What was going on? These kinds of things happened way too often lately. Okay, they were dreams but still. They’re so damn real.
Rebecca eased off the bed. Her feet felt like lead weights as she walked to the kitchen and poured a glass of water. After a big gulp, she hurried back to bed. Shivers racked her body even with the blanket pulled up to her chin. A minute ago sweat soaked her skin. Now she couldn’t get warm. Someone’s life had invaded her mind. She didn’t know who or where they lived. And she sure as heck didn’t like it. These were more than dreams. Most of her visions happened while she slept, but they were real. Besides, too many occurred during the day.
The pain eased, but fear and danger lingered. Curling up, she pulled the blanket tighter, closed her eyes, and willed herself to sleep. Strange visions played in her mind. Red, white, and blue flashing lights, fire engines, and ambulances, and police rushed around calling instructions, trying to control panic and hysteria at the scene.
Rebecca rubbed her eyes, trying to erase the visions.
“If only I knew how to find this person. Maybe then I’d find out what these dreams and visions mean.” Her voice startled her in the quiet room. Snuggling deeper in bed, pushing the thoughts away, she tried to sleep.
But sleep wouldn’t come. Her mind wouldn’t be still. The visions persisted. Was she going crazy? Maybe Allison was right to force her to see a parapsychologist.
“I think you’re experiencing a psychic phenomenon.” Allison had suggested. “Like ESP or something.”
The next morning Rebecca, once again, sat in Bernard Clark’s office. Something about the heavy-set, middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair and scruffy beard reminded her of her grandfather. As usual, he listened to her story with a serious expression.
Was this really helping? How many hours had she spent sitting across from the mammoth mahogany desk, staring at the book-lined shelves behind him? And so far, she didn’t know anything more than before. Once more, that’s it. If nothing changed today, she’d quit coming. Maybe he was a quack, like her brother said. Rebecca took a breath and relaxed in the comfortable atmosphere, inhaled the smell of new leather that clung to the chair, and leaned back. Okay, maybe she did have a deep extra sensory perception connection with someone like Bernard said. The question was with whom.
“I think you need to find this person,” Dr. Clark suggested. “It’s possible the physic mind is reaching out to you for help.”
“How?” That’s why she was here. If he didn’t help her figure it out, that was it. No more visits. Besides, it cost money, and who could afford it? If Allison hadn’t agreed to pay half, well that was another story. Dr. Bernard’s voice brought her back.
“Start with the dreams,” he suggested. “Tell me about them again.”
“I see scenes with emergency vehicles. Last night someone got shot,” she told him for what seemed like the hundredth time. “I wonder if he has something to do with law enforcement or other emergency operations. I'd recognize the town if I ever saw it in person. It’s so vivid in my mind.”
“Would you consider hypnotism?” Bernard fingered his beard. Intense blue eyes stared into hers. “Maybe your sub conscious mind will reveal the place, or person, or something to help you find it.”
Leary about being hypnotized, but desperate to find who shared her mind, Rebecca agreed.
Under her hypnotic trance, she revealed the name of a shoe factory. A place called Booth’s Boots, and she repeated the name, Morris, over and over.
“It’s not much to go on,” Rebecca told Allison later,” but it’s more than I knew before. Maybe Morris is my mind connection.”
Encouraged by the information, she spent the better part of the day doing research. Using the Internet, Rebecca keyed in Booth’s Boots. Instantly, several websites popped up.
“Okay, let’s check out Boothsboots.com.”
A website, showing various types of boots from hunting to work boots, popped up.
“This is great. Let’s see what this says.” She clicked on News and Events. “No help there. Okay, let’s try Outlet Stores.” She almost jumped out of her chair. “There it is!” A factory, located in Morrisville, Ohio.
“Morrisville, could that explain the name Morris?” A prickly sensation went up her spine. She was getting close; she could feel it.
“Okay, let’s try this.” Rebecca didn’t care she was talking to herself. Besides, it wasn’t the first time. Keying Morrisville into the search engine, she held her breath, more determined than ever to find the town. If it took all day, then so be it. A site popped up with several suggestions. “Okay, let’s see what this one is about.” Morrisville.net homepage popped up, and further down the page, it showed–Pictures taken around Morrisville.
She held her breath and clicked on one. The first picture that came up was a log cabin. No help there. “Okay, how about this one? The Square. “ It looked familiar. Shivers ran up her spine. “Okay, how about Hotel Darby. Yes! I’ve seen this place.” One more. She drew in her breath and clicked on Victorian.
“Oh my God, that’s it! That’s the house.” She almost jumped out of her seat. The Queen Anne house in her dreams showed on the screen big as life. Where is this place? Clicking back to the homepage, she found it on the map. “Not far from Wattsburg; only a three hour drive from here. I have to go there.”
“Allie.” Rebecca phoned her friend. “I found it, I searched the net, and I found it. Even pictures of the town. I recognized all the buildings right down to the house.”
“Calm down…”
“I have to go there. It’s only a three hour drive.” Not waiting for Allison’s response, Rebecca continued. “I have to find out who I’m connected with.”
“What are you going to do?” Allison asked. “Walk into the little town and say hey, someone here is connected to my mind.”
Rebecca laughed at her friend’s wit. “I have a plan. First I’ll go to the newspaper office and check for stories about someone being shot on Friday. Then I’ll try to find out where he is. I’m sure he’s alive.” Her intuition told her danger still lingered, but she couldn’t explain that to her friend.
“Maybe it’s a she,” Allison said. “What makes you say he?”
“I don’t know.” Rebecca paced the living room. “It’s just a feeling I have. It doesn’t matter; whoever it is, I have to go.” Okay, it was a crazy scheme, but feelings like this couldn’t be ignored. “There’s no turning back now, Al, I have to find him.”
“Would you like me to go with you?”
“I have to do this myself.”
“I don’t like this, Beck. You shouldn’t be doing this alone. What if it’s dangerous? I mean you see cop cars and stuff. What if he’s a criminal?”
Rebecca shivered. God, what if he was a criminal? No, something told her that wasn’t the case. Call it a gut feeling or intuit
ion, whatever it was, Rebecca would bet her life he wasn’t a criminal.
“I’m sorry, Al. Thanks for the offer, but no. I have to do this on my own. I’ll be fine. Really.”
Chapter Two
Monday, Rebecca arranged to take a two-week vacation. After work, she called her brother, Les. He wouldn’t like the idea of little sister going off alone into the big bad world, small town or not, but he’d just have to deal with it. He wasn’t going to stop her.
“Are you crazy? You can’t go off half-cocked alone. This is insane, Rebecca. You’re not going, and that’s that.”
“I’m twenty-five, Les, and old enough to take care of myself.” His argument didn’t surprise her. He thought that because she only stood a mere five feet two—she couldn’t take care of herself. Silence from her brother annoyed her.
“Come on, Lester, remember I have a black belt in karate. No one’s going to mess with me.” Why did he always have to do this? His silent treatment made her babble. He knew most of the time she backed down, but not this time. This time she was sticking to her guns. Two can play this game. She became silent, too.
Thinking back, Rebecca remembered when their parents died eight years earlier. Lester, only four years older, took it upon himself to father her. Les had comforted her. Okay, it’s not that she was ungrateful, she needed the support and strength of her older brother back then, but now she was old enough to fend for myself. He wasn’t going to make her feel guilty. As usual, the silence became too much. She had enough, wanted to hang up, but something stopped her.
“Talk to me, Lester. Wish me luck, I’m going no matter what you say.”
“Rebecca Lynne, this is insane. Why are you going off on a wild-goose chase?”
Rebecca hated when he used her full name.
“Quit treating me like a child. I’m not a teenager anymore. I don’t need your permission. I’m going, and that’s final.” Rebecca stamped her foot. Darn it, he made her so mad. Always the father figure. Why couldn’t he be her friend for a change? Support her instead of arguing with her.
Thank goodness, after arguing with him for about ten minutes, he finally got it through his head. Rebecca heard the resignation in his voice. “How about I go with you, give me a week to wrap up my deal, and we’ll go together.”
“I know you’re concerned about me, but I’ll be fine.” Lord, when would he let her grow up? “I have my cellphone, and I’ll call you every day, I promise I’ll keep in touch.”
“But if what you’re saying is true, and you are connected with someone who’s in danger, then you may be in danger too, Beck.”
Rebecca chuckled. Good last ditch effort. Lester didn’t believe she had ESP. He thought Bernard a fraud.
“I promise I’ll only be gone a week, maybe less.” No need to let him know the truth, he’d only argue more. Besides, her stay depended on whether she found the person, and how he received her. Something told her she’d be gone longer than a week. A lot longer. Too many times ignoring these visions taught her not to question her feelings or hunches. Or whatever you wanted to call them.
Rebecca hung up the phone, picked up her bags, packed her car, and started out on her trip. She hummed along with the CD. The sun, shining on the colorful leaves gave a spectacular show of reds, greens, gold, and rusts. The crisp autumn air rejuvenated her. What a beautiful time of year. The smell of burning leaves wafted through the window. This is the life.
The map from the Internet gave explicit directions. She drove down Interstate 77 and got off on Interstate 70 like her map showed her. Now comes the tricky part. Turn off the exit and go through Wattsburg. Okay, pay close attention through these winding, hilly roads.
Rebecca turned onto her route and drove down the winding road until she came to Main Street. Left or right? She sat at the stop sign and studied her map. Right turn. What a unique town. Everything looked familiar like she’d been here a million times. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear she spent a lot of time here. Déjà vu. She smiled. Morrisville, a small town, spread from one end of the highway to Lake Morris on the other. Everything about it screamed Victorian. No modern buildings, and according to her map, everything stemmed off Main Street. Almost like an island.
“Oh my God, there’s the boot factory.” She turned into the parking lot, found a spot and sat for a minute. This was it. Destination reached. Finally, after all this time, she was a step closer to meeting her connection. Rebecca took a deep breath, hurried to the store before she lost her nerve, and opened the door. A young man about twenty with dark wavy hair and a crooked smile strutted in her direction. ““Hi, I’m Tom Olsen.” He held his hand out to her. “What can I do for you?”
“Hi.” Her gaze wandered around the large store behind him. Rows and rows of boots, hiking gear, and hunting equipment stretched for what looked like miles. Definitely have to come back and look for a pair of hiking boots. She extended her hand. “Rebecca Brennan.”
Tom held hers a little too long for comfort. She pulled her hand away. Darn it, why had she felt compelled to give her name? That wasn’t like her. Not that it mattered much; by tomorrow, everyone in town would know her. “I need directions to the newspaper office.”
He smiled a crooked smile, cocked his head to the side, and looked at her for a minute before he answered. Talk about feeling uncomfortable. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
“Are you placing an ad?”
Taken aback by his question, Rebecca stuttered for a minute. “I, uh, no. I need some information.” Geez, what business was it of his? The nerve of this guy. She didn’t much like him. And she wished he’d quit looking at her like he wanted to devour her.
“Anything I can help you with?”
This was too much. All she wanted was directions. What was so hard about that? “Just the directions.”
He let out a low chuckle. “Take a left out of the parking lot and turn right at the first traffic light. It’s on the corner of Main and Monroe. You can’t miss it.”
“Thanks.” Rebecca turned to leave.
“Hey,” he called. “How long are you staying in town?”
“Just a couple days,” she said over her shoulder and hurried outside.
“He gives me the willies,” she said aloud in her car. Rebecca covered her mouth, giggled, and shrugged. If anyone saw her, they’d think her crazy, laughing and talking to herself.
A picture of the town gossip, telling everyone the new girl in town talked to herself, popped in her mind. Stifling another laugh, she drove in the direction the creepy guy gave her.
“Okay, he really isn’t creepy looking.” But darn, he looked at her like he could see right through her. Men like that bothered her. Thought they were God’s gift to women or something. Like no one could resist their charms. Not that it mattered. He was far too young for her anyway. Not that some guys cared about age. She shivered again and turned down the street at the stoplight.
The small newspaper office sat on the corner of Main and Monroe Streets. Rebecca parked her car and looked up at the building. Italianate style if she recalled her short study of the Victorian era. She loved everything Victorian. Her dream was to buy a big Queen Anne Vicky and fix it up with all the modern conveniences but still keep the integrity of the era. Sometimes she wondered if she lived another life back in those days. Everything about the era appealed to her. From the fashion to the houses and furnishings. She’d even started buying pieces at antique shops. Not that she could afford much on her salary, but whenever extra money came her way, she socked it away. Her latest purchase was an Eastlake dry sink.
Rebecca approached the door and took a deep breath. This was it, the reason for being here and one step closer to finding out whom her mind was connected to. She hesitated, took another deep breath, let it out, and went inside. The old building smelled like printer’s ink. A window separated the receptionist from the public.
“Excuse me.” Rebecca stepped to the window and cleared her throat. A plump g
ray-haired woman looked up from an old desk. ‘Kelly Anderson’ the sign on the desk read. Rebecca looked into soft gray eyes.
“How can I help you?” Kelly asked in a pleasant voice.
“I’d like to see the newspaper from October fifth.”
“Through that door and around the corner. I’ll meet you there.” Ms. Anderson directed her and pressed a buzzer releasing the door.
Rebecca met Ms. Anderson and followed her down a long corridor.
“Here are the papers for the last two weeks. If you need anything else, just holler.”
Rebecca sat down and looked through the papers. It didn’t take long to find the one with the right date. The headlines blared at her, “POLICEMAN SHOT DURING ROBBERY ATTEMPT.”
“Officer Jeremy Marlin took a bullet in the shoulder while attempting to apprehend a burglar at Lionel’s Jewelry store early this morning. Marlin stumbled upon a robbery in progress and called for backup. While awaiting the other patrol car, he and his partner, Officer Baker, investigated the open door. Marlin went around to the back. An unknown perpetrator, fleeing the scene, shot him and fled. The perpetrator is still at large.”
Rebecca sat back. Her stomach knotted, goose bumps popped out on her arms. Her mind connection had a name.
Jeremy Marlin. What was he like? And now what? How could she meet him? What would he say when he heard her story? At least now, she knew a little about him. A cop—that explained the danger and flashing lights. Thank God, he wasn’t the criminal. She stood up. May as well get this over with. She stopped at the reception desk. “Excuse me.” Rebecca waited until Ms. Anderson looked up. “Can you tell me how to get to The Hills End Motel?”
“You’re new in town?” Kelly Anderson didn’t wait for a reply. “Hope you enjoy your stay. You’ll find though we’re a small town, most folks are pretty friendly. Are you fixing to stay long? You’ll find a lot of history here. We were founded back in eighteen hundred and fourteen by David Morris.”
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