The last pair of the eight comatose people from the house were being loaded into ambulances when Gail Bergeron joined us in the yard. She moved slowly, favoring her injured arm.
I patted the bike rack we perched on. “Wanna sit with us? There’s plenty of room.”
Gail ignored my offer and fixed her gaze on Mayes. “Any word yet on Sheriff Blair?”
“Her vehicle and cell phone were abandoned in a busy shopping plaza,” he said. “A senior citizen from the same plaza reported her vehicle stolen. We’re searching for her sedan.”
“I’ve heard the rumors going around the grapevine. I don’t believe in this woo-woo stuff, not unless I witness it firsthand.” Gail spared me a glance. “You’re the real deal, but you’re the exception, not the norm.” She nodded at the last gurney. “What happened to these people?”
I weighed the possible responses, rejected all but one. “We don’t know. They were unresponsive when we found them.”
“Curious. I’ll follow up with them at the hospital.”
Awkward silence followed. Two techs were inside, taking photos and collecting fingerprint evidence.
“Why are you waiting here?” Gail asked.
“Ms. Powell and I will conduct a walk-through as soon as the house is cleared,” Mayes said. “Meanwhile, another crew is processing the sheriff’s SUV. We’re throwing everything we’ve got at getting the sheriff back.”
“So you’re stuck here temporarily?” Gail asked.
I didn’t like that speculative gleam in her eye. Last time I’d run across Gail on a case, she’d more than earned her nickname of Ice Queen. A natural authority figure, she took the lead on cases and told people what to do. Worse, she didn’t take no for an answer.
I met her laser-like gaze. “There’s nothing else I can do on your case without additional people to read or new evidence to touch. Plus, I need to direct my energies to this active case. The sheriff’s life is in danger.”
Two crime scene techs came out with sealed cartons. They took footies, coveralls, gloves, and masks off at the door and bagged them. One of them nodded to Mayes. He stretched and stood, then held a hand out for me. “We’re up,” he said.
I took his hand to steady myself as I eased off the bike rack. “About time.”
Gail darted in front of us and waved her good arm. “Wait. As a medical professional, I should examine that house. To check for contagion.”
“If something in there is contagious, Ms. Powell and I are already infected,” Mayes said.
Gail blocked Mayes as he tried to step around her. “In that case, I should establish a baseline for your biometrics.”
“Not on your life.” Mayes steered me around the roadblock. His tone wasn’t pleasant. “Twilla Sue’s in trouble. Let Ms. Powell do her thing and get a bead on what’s going on. Then you can examine the house ad nauseum.”
We donned protective gear and entered, while Gail fumed on the porch. “Just as well,” I said in a voice only Mayes could hear. “We don’t have to worry about her rummaging around while we’re in here.”
“Where do you want to start?” he asked.
The brooding sense I’d felt before in the house was gone. Now the place seemed empty. “I don’t know if one of your guys touched the doorknobs, but I suspect no one who was in a state of great stress touched the plates. That’s our best shot. Jonas grabbed this handful of dirty plates and placed them in the sink once we arrived.”
“How can I help?” Mayes asked.
I passed him my phone. “Run interference if this takes a while. Jonas is still alive, so his spirit can’t trap me on the Other Side. But I never know what I’ll come across while in a meditative trance or a dreamwalk. Call my father if you become concerned for any reason.”
He nodded, his eyes cop-sharp as he scanned the room. “What social worker approved this place? No way in hell should this dump be a group home.”
I stood in front of the stack of plates. Since I knew I’d be dreamwalking, I hadn’t put on my right glove. Physical barriers like gloves weakened my tactile reception. I waggled my fingers and steeled my nerve. “Going in.”
Mayes said something, but I barely heard him as I slipped into a meditative trance. Light fractured into kaleidoscopic panels whirling and turning and making me dizzy. At the same time, rage vectored up my arm, turning my stomach, making me want to puke. In a flash of light, I saw a clearing where nothing grew. The image whirled and stopped at a strangely shaped tree. The earth was disturbed there. Blackbirds cawed and flew at my face.
I willed myself back to the group home and found Mayes supporting me, his hands holding my hips in a snug grip. “What?” I asked, gazing at the refrigerator and the sink. Hadn’t I been in front of the sink when this started?
“You’re okay,” he said. “I’ve got you.”
Being held felt nice. More than nice. But this was wrong on several counts. My marriage. His being a stranger. I stepped away from him. “Did something happen?”
“You dropped the plates immediately. Your eyes twitched, then you started walking. Tried to walk right through the refrigerator. That’s when I grabbed you, so you wouldn’t hurt yourself.”
Odd. I’d never moved during a dreamwalk before. “Thanks, I think.”
“I’d offer you something to drink or a seat, but you don’t want to do either in this strange house.”
Something else was different about this vision. Something that had not happened. For the first time, I’d felt truly alone on the dreamwalk. “You’re right.”
“Was it worthwhile?” Mayes asked. “Did you learn anything to help us find Twilla Sue?”
Instead of touching my necklace, as I often did to center myself after a vision or a dreamwalk, I touched the tattoo on the back of my hand. Cold as ice. Usually Rose’s tattoos heated when I crossed the curtain. Not this time. Hard to say I missed Rose, but her absence puzzled me.
“The vision was filled with changing images, light, and rage,” I said. “I saw a weird tree with disturbed earth nearby. Not a leaf on this skeleton tree, just black bark. The limbs twisted in every direction.”
“How does this help us find the sheriff?”
“I don’t know. I’d like to talk with you later about the images, about the places I saw. I’m unfamiliar with the area so I don’t know if they are landmarks or remote areas we might never identify.”
“We will.” He seemed to draw into himself for a moment. “Meanwhile, during your dreamwalk, we found the stolen car, but no Twilla Sue. I’ve ordered scent-tracking dogs to the location.”
“We’ll find her,” I said with more conviction than I felt. I had no idea what we were dealing with in Jonas Canyon. Was he more than an energy vampire? That was enough, truly, but how did he bend people to his will so easily? “Did they find any computers or phones in the house?”
“Nope. Nothing modern like that. Not even a TV. These folks didn’t read or play games either. Other than the dirty dishes, this place has none of the usual clutter of life. No books, no photos, no games, no mementos. You up for more touch tests?”
We walked around the house, me touching doorknobs and bedposts and lamps. Nothing in the way of a zing. There were only a few items of clothing in each closet. Nothing jumped out at me when I touched them. The refrigerator was empty. Absolutely empty.
“Did the lab guys take all the food?” I asked as I closed the fridge door.
“I can check the evidence log.”
“Not necessary. I think your initial assessment is correct. This place feels like a rest stop, only the people weren’t in any shape to travel.”
“You moving away from the psychic-vampire-enslaving-them theory?”
“Jonas was an energy vamp, that’s for sure. But something else is bothering me. How’d he get the people to come inside this place? Why would they stay after he drained their energy partially? And how is our victim associated with Jonas other than this address? I see nothing to indicate Haney ever lived here. It’s like these people are living ghosts.”
Mayes’ radio squawked. We listened to the update from the deputy with the scent-tracking dogs. No news on the sheriff’s whereabouts. The dogs had lost her trail by the highway. Worse, two of the comatose people evacuated from the victim’s house had died on the way to the hospital.
Sweat trickled down my spine. These darn protective coveralls didn’t breathe. “I’m not getting anything else in here. Let’s wait for our ride outside, where it’s cooler.”
We trudged to the front porch. “That’s weird,” Mayes said.
I wrestled with a coverall sleeve. “What?”
He pointed. “There’s an ice cream truck parked in the driveway.”