“There’sno point in even trying,” I replied, shrugging.
“What’shappenin’ in these nightmaresyerhavin’?”
Ismirked and sniffed a laugh. “Are you a dream analyst now, too?”
Chucklinggruffly, Alec shook his head. “No. But sometimes, it just helps to talk aboutthem.”
Inhalingslowly, I crossed my arms and settled against the back of the chair, while Iplaced my mind back into those woods and forced my eyes to see her cold,unblinking stare and the jagged, sharp pieces of her blinding, white skull. Ishivered and slammed my eyelids shut, forcing the darkness to come and blackout her face.
“Ijust keep seeing her.”
“Likein the pictures?” he asked.
“No,”I shook my head and opened my eyes, “not like that. I mean,” I nodded, “yes,yes, like that, in that she’s dead and laying on the rock. But it’s worse. It’smore … graphic and violent, and then, she looks at me. Sometimes, she screams.Sometimes, she talks to me. But in every single dream, she always just … staresat me.”
Hegrunted a contemplative sound as I shivered again, and then said, “Maybe she’stryin’ to tell yesomethin’,lass.”
Youdid this.
Iclosed my eyes and shook my head. “I don’t know …”
“Thedead don’t lie, Rosie. If she’ssayin’somethin’ to ye inyerdreams,maybe ye should listen. It might help.”
Iswallowed as I slowly opened my eyes and looked at the grisly picture layingbefore him. “Maybe,” I replied, my voice hoarse as Gracie whispered once again,you did this. “But I hope not.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
ALEC
“So,you’re just going to leave us here allfreakin’day?”
TJstared at me through incredulous eyes, gawking in such a way I had to divert mygaze. His mother sat at the kitchen counter, pretending that it didn’t botherher that I was leaving, but her hands were shaking, and her bottom lip was redand raw with worry.
“Rickwill be with ye,” I replied, keeping my eyes trained on the floor as I threw onmy coat.
“Butwhat are we supposed to do all damn day? We don’t even have a car!”
“Rickcan take ye wherever ye want to go. He’ll be here. Besides, Iwillnaebe long.”
Ididn’t wait around to hear another protest, or to watch Rosie gnaw on her lipsome more. I grabbed my thermos of coffee and headed out the door in a rush.Because the sooner I was done at the office, the sooner I could get back andwork on what I found to be most important.
Beforewalking into the office, I had half-expected an immediate air of suspicion,like the entire force was onto me and my covert operation with an Americanwoman and her wise-arsedteenager. But upon steppingthrough the door, I found that not only were the Constables oblivious to mysecret,they werecompletely nonchalant toward myexistence altogether.
“Goodmornin’, Brodie,” Sharp muttered from the coffee pot.
“Howare ye, Sharp?” I responded on my way to my desk.
Hegrunted in response. “My wife broke the coffee maker thismornin’,so I’m leftdrinkin’ this shite, but otherwise, Icannaecomplain.”
“Guessit’s a good thing ye live down the road from an Asda,” Constable PeterColven, one of the friendliest blokes on the force, chimedin from across the room.
“Downthe road,” Sharp groaned, shaking his head as he poured the remaining blacksludge from the pot into his cup. “Ihaftaetravelall the way into Inverness to get to Asda. Idinnaehave thatkindatime.”
“Andwhat else do ye have to do that’s more important?” Abernathy challenged with asmirk and a cross of his arms. “And don’t say ye have to tend toyerwife. I’ll keep her plenty occupied, don’t ye worryabout that.”
“Ye’llregretsayin’ that,” Sharp fired back, smirking.
Asthe lads bantered back and forth, I situated myself at my desk and watched thejokes and jabs volley across the room. It was impossible not to wonder who inthis office had given the order to rule Gracie’s death an accident, and Iwondered if it was one of them. I questioned how they could so easily livetheir lives, knowing what they had done.
