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THE BEDROOM WAS SO cold. Her fingertips tingled and her palms felt frozen. She felt a shiver run through her body.
The dream-state was broken, snapped like a rubber band that reached its maximum level of pressure. One moment she was in the Chevy with Sunshine—was Sunshine—and the next she was sitting upright with her back against the hard wood of head of the bed.
“She’s dead,” Susan said. Her voice was tense with stress and anger. Her hands were shaking in David’s, which were wrapped tightly around hers, providing some warmth, though not enough to knock the bone-deep chill from her. “She tried to fight, but we never had a chance against that bastard.”
She released his hands and rolled over on her side. She started to cry in the darkness. She never experienced such a vivid vision before, where she had felt as though she was part of it, as though she were the victim. She was grateful that the malevolent vision had finally broken, releasing her from paralysis and the horrible sight of the dead woman.
Now, disappointment filled her heart. She saw everything, witnessed the terrifying murder of Sunshine, yet she saw nothing that could help her find the killer. There was not one shred of tangible evidence that she could use to begin her search.
She rolled over and buried her face in David’s bare chest. She could smell the pleasing odor of talc powder on his body and that soothed her. Just being close to him made things seem better.
She closed her eyes and drifted quickly toward sleep. She was exhausted and frightened. Her mind was on overload and had reached its capacity. The thought process shut down and blessed sleep overtook her.