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An Excerpt From: DREAM
SHADOW
© Copyright MARY
WINE, 2004.
All Rights Reserved,
Ellora's Cave, Inc.
The sound rain made as it fell was perfect. Grace let the corners of
her mouth drop into a frown as a sharp whistle shattered it. Considering
the thunderclouds above her she shut her eyes and ears to any more
interruptions. Tipping her head back, she smiled as the icy droplets slid
across her cheeks.
Freedom. Plain, simple and found right here where the forests of Washington began.
“Grace.”
It was amazing the way Major Jason Jacobs could turn her name into a low
growl of pure disgruntlement. Aiming her eyes into the night, Grace
considered the forest with a longing that bordered on need.
“There’s no need for a hotel, Major.” Grace considered the forest
again. “Let’s camp.”
“I heard it’s been raining for two straight weeks, we’ll be drowning
in mud.” The frustration in the Major’s voice was rapidly turning into
indignant male pride. The problem with having conversations with any
Officer was you never knew just when they he would take an opinion as a
slight to his authority. But male pride could often be amusing to watch.
“I’d prefer to camp.”
“Grace…”
Grace raised her shoulder slightly in a shrug as she looked back at
the freedom she was going to be denied. Turning on her heel she fell into
step with the rest of her escort. The men of Jacobs’ Unit stood impatiently
waiting for her to embrace being shoved into a hotel room neatly stored
away.
Tonight the night was alive, and that life came
sailing straight at her. The abundance of it prevented any true
understanding of just what it was. Spinning on her heel, Grace faced it
head-on. Nothing but silence greeted her, yet the ringing echo was almost
deafening.
“What is it?”
Snapping her head about, she regarded Jacobs. With his head slightly
tilted in her direction, he stood patiently waiting for her to finish.
Maybe the man was traditional enough to prefer a bed to the forest floor,
but he had never forced her to abandon any vision before she captured it
completely.
Whatever floated on the wind, the scent of it somehow made the forest
even more enticing. Pulling the fragments of emotion into her mind, Grace
slowly attempted to force them into focus.
The vision eluded her grasp, leaving behind an increasing hunger to
track it down. Exactly why her curiosity was involved was a mystery. Caring
about an assignment was trouble. Any emotional involvement would become the
key to misery. Shaking her head in frustration, Grace turned back to
Jacobs’ Unit.
Too bad, for a moment life had almost begun to get interesting.
Maybe it was simple frustration that drove Grace to seek out the
vision again. Maybe it was pure distaste for the stale confines of her
motel room. Whatever the cause, Grace sat poised on her knees while she
tried to assemble the bits of feeling she held into a recognizable picture.
Major Jacobs could get his six hours of sleep. Grace might know
better than to care about a mission but she’d already committed the sin of
curiosity. Letting that small scrap of emotion get into her head was going
to keep any type of sleep well and truly separated from her tonight.
There was too much emotional bleed-out from the community. Anger,
fear, hope and half a dozen other feelings were floating through the night.
Grace couldn’t just feel it; she was almost drowning in it.
Grace forced her mind into sharp control. She needed to focus to keep
it all from blurring. This time, the connection with her mind was clear.
The vision blossomed into full color commanding her complete attention.
Grace could see every single hair on her target’s head. The emotion
of curiosity crumbled away and left Grace with the unmistakable feeling of
need. Her vision wasn’t a target any longer. It became a child and Grace
could see her as clear as day. The night was literally singing. Grace was
impatient to become a part of the harmony.
Holding the vision at bay, Grace turned towards the room’s door. Her
feet faltered as she caught the feeling of one of the Rangers. There was
always a perimeter sentry posted at night.
Slipping along side the window, she pulled the curtain away a bare
inch to catch sight of the man. It wasn’t that she held any true dislike
for Clark, but the man thought she was a
witch. He wasn’t alone in that. Half the men that made up Jacobs’ Unit
thought she was some sort of devil’s handmaiden.
Tonight, the ugly label stirred her temper. She didn’t want to share
the pure innocence of her vision with men that wanted to condemn her as a
heathen. She wanted to touch this child, immerse herself in the
uncomplicated bliss of early childhood.
The Unit could be damned. Grace wasn’t in the mood to be judged and
she wasn’t going to wait for daybreak.
* * * *
*
So, they were here.
More exactly, she was here. Brice continued to observe the three
helicopters that currently sat on the asphalt in front of what served as
the Benton County Airport.
It was painfully easy to pick out the woman amidst the unit of Army
Rangers. Even at his current
distance, her slight build was obvious compared with that of her
companions.
Brice sunk back into the seat of his patrol jeep. The men left on
duty were armed to deadly precision, including night-vision goggles. It had
taken him almost two days, along with every favor that a living soul owed
him on this planet to get this bunch into Benton County.
There was no need to get started on the wrong foot. The instructions
he had been given were painfully clear. The airfield was to be cleared.
It was, but there was no way that he was going to sit by waiting for
this group to run him like a dog on a leash. This was his county; he just
hoped he was making the right decision.
Turning the ignition over, he pulled the jeep back on to the road.
There was nothing right about this whole thing. Three years into his first
term as Sheriff, Brice had seen a lot of things cross his path. Child
abduction just wasn’t something that he ever thought to see in front of
him. A man could fail to solve a burglary, maybe even a murder, but how
could you fail to find someone’s little girl?
Brice closed his eyes for a moment. He was really reaching this time.
When it got out he was bringing in a psychic, it could very well cost him
his re-election next year. Benton
was a small community; nothing stayed a secret for long. By the end of next
week rumors, if not the whole story, would be all over the county. If this
Unit failed to turn up Paige Heeley, Brice could more than likely kiss his
office goodbye.
If this psychic bloodhound turned up his missing little girl, Brice
didn’t give a damn about his office. Paige was just four years old and
Brice would gladly take the heat once the family was reunited.
The entire idea of a psychic being helpful still stuck in the back of
his throat. Swallowing that concept was going to require some hard
evidence.
This one might be different. Whatever his own feelings about the
paranormal aside, he was left with one hard fact. The United States Army
didn’t tend to waste its time.
For some reason, this woman was part of a Ranger Unit. Brice was
about to wager a great deal on her being half as good as the rumors he’d
heard about her.
Now if they just managed to turn something up. Brice had every
able-bodied man out searching and they hadn’t turned up so
much as a hair ribbon. After two weeks, any hope of recovering the child
alive was almost gone.
Well, Brice wasn’t ready to give her up to the mountains. Paige
Heeley was out there and maybe, just maybe, he had found the means to
finding her.
CLOSE WINDOW
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