TAYLOR HEARD THE VOICE CALLING TO HER FROM THE WOODS. She was outside in the dark, the wind blowing the cold rain so hard it felt like pinpricks on her face. The sodden leaves at her feet made little noise as she ran toward the siren’s song, despite the warning in her head that it wasn’t safe. She ran deeper and deeper, turning left and right toward the voice until, when she turned to look behind her, she couldn’t see where she’d come from. But she had to reach it. The more she listened, the more familiar it became. And then it came to her: it was her mother’s voice, one she hadn’t heard in over twenty years.
“Mom!” she yelled back, running faster now.
“Taylor, hurry!” Her mother sounded more urgent.
Tree branches scraped her as she ran past. Her feet slid over a patch of mud and she slipped and slammed into a tree trunk. Wincing as pain shot through her head, she brought her hand to her scalp and felt something wet. She looked at her hand. Blood.
“Taylor, there’s no time!” Her mother was louder now.
Taylor ran toward the voice again and then stopped short. The woman standing in front of her was young, maybe her own age, and looked like her mother, but she couldn’t be sure. She had on a flowing white dress, and a smile so beatific that Taylor felt a warmth spread through her entire body. The woman’s arms opened and Taylor ran into them. They enveloped her in a hug that filled her with a profound sense of peace and contentment. She wanted to stay in this embrace forever. But the woman pulled back and gave her a look of such despair that Taylor felt shaken. When she saw her up close, she realized it wasn’t her mother, but someone who looked a lot like her.
“What is it?” Taylor asked.
“He’s in danger. You must be on guard.”
“Who? What are you talking about?”
The woman began walking backward, fading.
“Wait. Who?”
She shook her head sadly. “Evan. His life is at risk.”
Before Taylor could ask her anything else, the woman vanished into the mist. Taylor began to yell when she felt hands on her shoulders, gently shaking her, then heard her name being called again. This time by Jack.
“Taylor, wake up.”
Her eyes flew open. The room was dark, but she could see Jack’s outline, standing over her. She turned on the lamp next to the bed and soft light illuminated the room. She was out of breath, and her hair was wet with sweat. “What time is it?”
“Almost five. I was just about to get in the shower when I heard you yelling. You okay?” His face showed his concern.
She looked over at Evan, whom she’d brought to their bed last night when he’d awakened crying. He was fast asleep. Sitting up gingerly, careful not to disturb him, she sat on the edge of the bed, her feet on the floor, and put her head in her hands. She took a few deep breaths, then stood. “Let’s go downstairs so we don’t wake him.”
Jack followed her into the kitchen and made coffee while she told him about the dream. When she had almost gotten to the end, she swallowed. “She told me that Evan was in danger.”
Jack put his arms around her. “T, it’s okay. He’s safe. It’s just nerves. We’re on all on edge with the news lately and all these crazy things happening.”
She sighed. “I know. It just seemed so real. She looked so much like my mother. I wonder if it was my Aunt Maya. Maybe she’s paying me a visit from beyond, trying to warn me.”
He gave her a skeptical look. “More likely it’s your subconscious at play. Evan is fine. No one is going to hurt him. They’d have to go through me first.”
She knew he was probably right, but she still had a hard time shaking the dream. A thought occurred to her. “What if it’s a warning about Warwick? We have no idea where he is.” Saying her father’s name brought a lump to Taylor’s throat. She’d grown up believing he was her biological father. Even now, though she understood that he’d never loved her or her mother, that he’d been another of Crosse’s puppets, it was impossible for her to completely grasp his bitter betrayal. She would never be able to erase from her mind the image of him aiming a gun at her, gleefully delivering the news that he’d been the one to kill her mother and that Taylor was next.
Jack looked at her a long moment. “Well, I don’t know why he’d want to take Evan. Besides, if he returned, Evelyn could implicate him in your mother’s death, so I don’t think he’d just come waltzing back into the country.”
“What if he’s still looking for the coins? He killed my mother over those religious relics and was willing to kill me, too. He could think we have them.”
Jack seemed to consider this. “But why would he wait all this time?”
“I guess you’re right . . . besides, he wouldn’t be able to get back in the country without getting arrested, unless he has a new identity,” she reluctantly agreed. “No, it’s probably nothing to do with him.”
He brought her a cup of coffee and sat down with his.
“Let’s just think about this a little. If your gut’s telling you something, we don’t want to dismiss it out of hand.”
That was one of the many things she loved about Jack. He never treated her like she was hysterical or invalidated her feelings. Ever since they were kids, he had been the one she told all her secrets to, the one she could be completely at ease with. He continued, “Have you noticed anything unusual that maybe your subconscious picked up? A car around a lot? Anyone who seemed to be watching you, or I don’t know, just a feeling of unease when you’ve been out?”
She thought about his question, then said, “No. Nothing like that.” She ran a hand through her hair. “We looked over our shoulders for so long, but I’m actually finally feeling safe again. I’m happy to be back at work, and Evan’s right there in a great daycare. Maybe it’s just jitters about the travel I have coming up. I’m probably more nervous about leaving him than I realized.”
He nodded. “Probably. It was just one of those crazy dreams. We’ve all had them.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “Still. Maybe I should postpone my trip to Maryland.”
“Absolutely not.” Beau ambled over and nudged her with his nose. She ruffled the fur on the dog’s head, looking at him as she spoke. “We have Beau watching out for us, and the house alarm, and I haven’t been busting my ass doing martial arts for nothing. I can take care of myself, and Evan. We’ll be fine.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Okay, killer. I’m going to go take that shower now.”
Alone in the kitchen, Taylor decided to distract herself by going over her notes before her meeting that afternoon with Karen and her production team. For her latest piece, Taylor had been interviewing families who were suing Jefferson Health Care for discrimination. Jefferson had recently rolled out a low-cost health insurance policy but hadn’t made customers aware that by opting into the low-cost policy, many previously covered procedures were now excluded. The lawsuit claimed that Jefferson was targeting protected classes—women, the elderly, and the disabled—and discriminating against them with the reduced coverage. The families of individuals who had been refused treatment and had consequently died or suffered damages began to sue the insurance giant, and there had been enough lawsuits that it had turned into a major class action suit.
Ultimately, the plaintiffs had lost in federal court and continued appealing until the case reached the Supreme Court, which had certified it. The closing arguments had been heard last month, and the court was expected to render a decision in the next sixty days. In the meantime, Taylor was trying to narrow down the families who would represent the plaintiffs on Karen’s news show.
She thought about her dream again. She hadn’t told Jack about the dreams she used to have as a kid—nightmares that would have her crying out until her mother came to her room to comfort her. Most of the time they were vague, without a clear sense of what the danger was. But on two occasions, they had been very specific. The first had been when she was fourteen. She saw her mother in a dark room with a large man looming over her. Her mother’s screams had been terrifying as the man held a cigarette to her hand and her flesh began to burn. When she awoke, she didn’t tell her mother about it, not wanting to worry her. Two days later, her mother was murdered.
In the second dream, they were all at Jack’s father’s funeral. The next day, his dad had a heart attack and died a few hours later. She’d never told Jack about that dream, not wanting to upset him further, and from that moment until last night, she hadn’t been burdened by any more prophetic ones.
Why now? The other two times, there was nothing she could do to prevent the outcome. But this time, the dream seemed more like a warning than a premonition. A sense of foreboding filled her, and she took a deep breath. She had to keep a clear head. Before she went back upstairs to get dressed and check on Evan, she walked to the front door and peeked out the side window. Was there someone out there watching? Waiting? Someone who wanted to hurt her, or worse, hurt Evan?