Page 37 of Little Bitter Truths
When he looked back at me, his expression had softened.“You’d trusted me once enough to explain that intuition of yours.I don’t know what else to call it.It’s not something I understand, and it’s not something I’ve ever had, but that doesn’t mean I don’t believe you.You know that, right?”
“I do.”
“I don’t ever want you to feel like you can’t tell me things like that.If there was ever a night to trust your instincts, this was it.I don’t say it enough, but I’m glad I get to work with you on cases like these.Even if you won’t come back and work at the department, in some ways, it still feels like you’re one of us.”
It was the highest praise Foley had ever given me, and for once, I was at a loss for words.He seemed to understand, because he nodded, offering a slight smile as he made his way to the front door, calling out an order to one of the officers along the way.
I took a seat next to Mia, and Whitlock excused himself, saying, “I’m going to leave you two to talk.”
For a moment, we just sat, taking it all in.
Then Mia said, “What made you come over tonight?”
Her tone indicated a need to understand more than anything else.Few people knew about my dreams or just how much they helped me when I worked on homicide cases.Over time, I’d gotten the odd sense that the dead weren’t as far away as most people believed.That said, it was easier to keep my dreams to myself than to subject them to potential judgment.But tonight didn’t feel like the time for secrecy.
“I had a dream about Wren,” I said.
“What kind of dream?”
“The kind that felt like more than just a dream.”
“Will you tell me about it?”
I told her I’d fallen asleep and when I woke in the dream, I was inside her house.It was the night of the murder, and Wren was dead, but she was also hovering over her own body as if she was in both physical and spiritual form.I mentioned Wren saying she’d died before her time, that something wasn’t finished, and repeating something about a key.
When I finished, Mia’s fingers tightened around the edge of the blanket.“What were Wren’s exact words?”
I repeated them as best I could remember.“The key waits where it shouldn’t and leaves when it’s found.”
Mia stayed quiet.
I continued.
“She also said something was about to happen, and that I would be part of it.I woke up so shaken I knew I needed to come here and make sure you were all right.”
“Wren always believed there were things in this world that couldn’t be explained, and she thought some people were more receptive than others.”
I studied her face.“What do you think about that?”
“I believe some people have abilities others don’t.”
“That’s a careful answer.”
“It’s an honest one.”She lifted her gaze to meet mine.“I believe Wren was trying to protect me through your dream.”
“I think she was trying to warn me too.”
“I agree.”
“I’m still confused about what she meant about a key being where it shouldn’t be, but maybe she was trying to tell me I’ve been looking in the wrong direction.”
“Or maybe she was talking about a different kind of key.”
“What do you mean?”
Mia shifted beneath the blanket and pointed toward the front yard.“Every now and then the keypad on the front door jams.Not often, but when it does, I can stand there punching in the code a dozen times, and the lock still won’t catch.I’ve meant to replace it; I just haven’t gotten around to it.I guess what I’m saying is, I hide a spare key outside in case I can’t get in.”
A single question occupied my thoughts:is the spare key still in its hiding place?
