Dark Visions Page 3

  "Thank you," Sarah said and grabbed a pen and paper from the table. She wrote down her home phone number. If they couldn't get to see each other, at least Esmerelda could call her.

  She set the paper down on the table along with the pen. Both women still sat there, chatting to each other. Neither one had gotten up to deliver her note.

  She decided to find another way in.

  Sarah stepped outside. She headed along the edge of the building and turned the corner. The back lot consisted of a fenced in yard with a security shack. The yard was filled with about a dozen trailers and rigs. It looked to Sarah that the psychics lived in the trailers while on the road, moving from pavilion to pavilion.

  The sun shone bright, bouncing off the pavement in a wave of heat. She backhanded sweat from her brow and started for the fence.

  As she passed an emergency exit door, she pulled on it. It was locked from the inside.

  There appeared to be no way into the building unless she could get through the fenced in area.

  The security shack was manned. The guard had his head down. He appeared to be reading something.

  Sarah walked up to the fence. She looked at the guard shack. The guard's head was still down.

  She started to climb. It took her less than ten seconds to reach the top. Straddling the bar, she adjusted her weight and began her descent down the other side. At the last three feet, she hopped off and looked at the guard shack again. The security guard hadn't seen a thing. She tightened her bandanna. With the fence by her side, she started to walk toward the trailers.

  "Heh! You there?"

  Sarah swung to the right and saw a man in a sport jacket coming her way. She looked back at the guard's shack and saw the guard coming out now, a scowl on his face.

  Then her hand twitched. Oh no, not now.

  She felt light headed. The fence was still beside her. It was what she banged against when she fell into a complete blackout.

  She came to.

  The man in the sport jacket knelt beside her. He was trying to pry a notepad out of her hands. She held tight, twisting her body away for leverage. The notepad popped out of the guys hands.

  The security guard yelled from his shack that the police were around the corner.

  Sarah opened the pad. Did she write anything?

  Her precognition was on the first page. She ripped out the paper and handed it back to the man standing over her.

  "The police?" Sarah asked.

  "Yes. You're trespassing. But I'd be willing to drop the charges if you told me what you wrote in my notepad that you so rudely ripped from my jacket pocket as you fell to the ground."

  Sarah slid the note in the back of her pants. She looked away from the man without a word and walked toward the guard shack.

  "I need to speak to Esmerelda. That's why I'm here."

  The guard looked past her to the man in the sport jacket. "All readings are done in the pavilion. The front entrance is how you get access to the psychics. What you have done is called a break and enter. You can discuss it with the cops."

  Sarah saw a cruiser pulling up outside the fence and her stomach dropped. She couldn't handle cops right now. She detested them.

  The gate was rolling open and sport jacket was talking to the police.

  Minutes later, Sarah was put into the backseat of the cruiser.

  Both officers got in the front after a five minute wait.

  Sarah looked out the back window as they were exiting the lot and saw Esmerelda running to the gate. Sarah waved, knowing Esmerelda could see her.

  She wondered what Esmerelda would think of her being taken away in a police car. Maybe this was the extent of the danger she foretold?

  The cops asked where she lived and headed in that direction. They explained that this would be a warning. The next time she was found inside the property of the pavilion without being a paying customer, she would be charged with trespassing and have a criminal record.

  She nodded her understanding. She wanted little to do with these guys. She found a few stray hairs on her forearm and yanked them out hard. The rush was instant. Cooling her. Calming her.

  When they got to her house, her mother came out to meet them. The police recited a quick rundown of what had happened and let Sarah out of the backseat, into the custody of her parents, as they put it.

  She could see how furious her mother was, but Sarah ignored her and ran to her bedroom. She retrieved the note and read the entry.

  There were two.

  The first one told her about Dolan's involvement and what she needed to do. An understanding of what was happening dawned on her.

  The second entry read; Tonight. 9:23pm. Birk Street North Face. Kidnapping.

  She set about the task given to her regarding Dolan.

  When that was done she sat on her bed, her insides tingling with excitement. What are they going to think when Dolan finds her note?

  This was the first time people's names were coming through.

  Especially when it involved crimes being committed.

  What the police could do with information like this, she thought.

  She just hoped she could count on Mary to come through for her.

  Chapter 7

  Her mother's footsteps pounded down the hallway. Sarah fumbled with the note she'd written about the kidnapping. She got it tucked into her back pocket just in time.

  Her bedroom door flew open.

  "What the hell was that all about? They found you trespassing at the Psychic Fair? What's going on, Sarah? You didn't even want to go yesterday. What were you doing there today?"

  Sarah remained silent. She kept her eyes on the carpet.

  "Sarah, I won't ask you again."

  She looked up and saw her mother in the doorway, arms crossed, anger contorting her face.

  "I went to see Esmerelda--"

  "Why? Yesterday wasn't enough? And where would you get the money? Don't tell me this has anything to do with your blackouts because we all know how obsessive you can get. Just look at your hair, or what's left of it."

  Sarah looked away. That wasn't fair. Already the conversation was turning into insults. She didn't like confrontations with her mother. She never won them. She always felt her mother blamed her for something. The edge of her bed was a good place to sit and wait for this ordeal to be over.

  "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. Look, I want your notebook."

  Sarah's heart sank. She didn't have it. There's no way her mother would believe that. Her mother wanted nothing to do with it before. What changed?

  She tried hard to keep her eyes downcast. Her mother read too much in them.

  "I said I want your notebook and I want it now." She marched towards the bed.

  Sarah flinched away. "I don't have it."

  "What do you mean, you don't have it? You're lying to me."

  Sarah watched as her mother's eyes narrowed. She leaned forward, coming to within a foot of Sarah's face. She spoke through clenched teeth.

  "You are going to give me your notebook. This is not open for discussion. Do you understand me?"

  Sarah nodded. She didn't want to say anything more that might spin her mother into a tantrum. She hated it when her mother flew off the handle and right now she wasn't sure what she was capable of.

  "Get off that bed and get me your notebook. I know you know where it is because it's never out of your sight for long. If you've lost it, find it. Now!"

  Sarah did as she was told by standing and going to her night table. She opened drawers, looked under her pillow, opened her closet and moved clothes around.

  "What're you doing? Look for your notebook."

  "I am. Why do you want it anyway? You never showed interest before."

  "I talked to Mary," her mother said.

  Sarah's stomach dropped. Her right hand reached up to the back of her neck and grabbed hair without her thinking of it.

  She pulled. The pain was quick and intense. Comfort warmed her heart, adren
aline filled her gut.

  This was bad. Why would they talk?

  "She called me. I hung up just before the police pulled in with you."

  "What did she tell you?" Sarah asked.

  "Everything."

  Her mother was being evasive for a reason. Sarah guessed she didn't know much after all. Her mother was fishing.

  "What's everything?" Sarah asked. She felt her face heating up, turning red.

  "Find your notebook and we'll discuss it. I know that Mary will be in one of your entries."

  Her mother did know more than she was letting on. That also confirmed how much of a mistake it'd been to talk to Mary.

  She felt lightheaded, her knees weak. There was no way she would give the notebook up to anyone even if she had it.

  But how was she to handle her mom? She continued to pretend to be looking. She opened more drawers, looked under clothes, and even lifted the top mattress to look between the two.

  She realized the only way out of this would have to be physical. She felt the pit in her stomach getting heavier.

  There was another kidnap victim she could help tonight. Nothing would stop her from being there.

  The police were useless. It had to be Sarah.

  She had never forgiven herself for letting Kim Wepps get taken after her kidnapping details were found in the notebook. She remembered reading about Kim Wepps in the newspaper the day after she hadn't helped her.

  "I'd give it to you if I could find it. I was looking for it this morning and haven't seen it since."

  It was weak. She wondered if her mother would know she was lying by the waver in her voice.

  "Come on Sarah, that little book is never far from your grasp."

  Sarah crossed her arms. "Tell me what Mary said to you."

  "She wanted to know where you were. She asked if you were the one who saved that television woman."

  "What television woman?" She asked, acting naive.

  "You know; that accident where the famous Anchorwoman for NBC was hit by a truck and knocked off a bridge. Her car landed upside down in a river. Apparently, a girl jumped in and saved the newswoman from drowning while she was still unconscious. Then the teenager disappeared. After I talked to Mary, I went down to your dad's tool box and I couldn't find his hammer."

  "Why would you look for dad's hammer?" Sarah asked, even though she knew the answer. She felt so nervous at being found out even though she'd done nothing wrong.

  "The news said the teenage girl broke out the back window of the woman's car with a hammer. The police are looking for this mysterious helper. They have some questions that went unanswered. I told Mary that it was impossible you were involved. But she went on about your notebook and how you saved her from a kidnapping. Not only that, she said you called her earlier. To tell you the truth, Mary was surprised that I had no idea what she was talking about. That's why I have to have your notebook. I need to see the kinds of things you write in it."

  Sarah tried to keep the conversation flowing. The last thing she wanted was her mother detecting how nervous she was. "That's so strange. I've never been involved in kidnappings or anything like that."

  The shrill ring from the phone made her jump.

  "Are you expecting a call?" Her mother asked.

  Sarah shook her head no. She silently hoped it wasn't Mary again.

  She followed her mother out of her bedroom and into her father's den, her pulse racing. Her mother picked it up on the fourth ring.

  "Hello?" She looked up at Sarah. "Yes, she's here. Hold on, please." Putting her palm on the mouthpiece, she whispered to Sarah, "It's someone from the Psychic Fair."

  Sarah lunged for the phone. Her mother pulled it away.

  "How dare you? Who is this and how did this man get our number? And why is he calling for you?"

  "I have no idea," Sarah said as she reached for the phone again, this time snatching it from her mother's grasp.

  "Hello."

  A man's guttural voice said, "Who I am isn't important. All you need to know is that I saw you today at the fair. I want to help. But before I can do that, I need to meet with you. You will have to bring your notebook."

  Sarah started shivering. Focus, she thought.

  "Yes, I understand. I can meet with you," was all that came out.

  Her hand twitched. It felt like the beginning of a blackout, yet not strong enough.

  "Good. How about you come back to the fair and ask for..."

  Pain shot through her hand, starting at the elbow. She fumbled and almost dropped the phone. "Of course. That would be no problem. I'll meet you there. Goodbye." She hung up. She didn't get to hear his name.

  "What was that all about?"

  "I can't tell you," Sarah replied. It was time to be defiant and take a stand.

  "What? Why not?" The look of surprise was genuine.

  "Because the caller asked for secrecy."

  "You can tell me who you're going to meet and where. Actually, you can tell me why too."

  Sarah shrugged her shoulders, trying to downplay the situation. "Sorry, this is between me and the Psychic Fair."

  Her mother's finger was raised and poised in front of Sarah's nose, pointing close enough to cause Sarah's eyes to cross. "Listen to me, little girl. You will tell me what's going on. What have you been up to?"

  "I don't think so," Sarah turned away. "You want to know what your problem is, mother?" She rarely talked to her mother with such a disrespecting tone. She couldn't look her in the eye when she did. "You still think you're having a parent to child relationship with me and that has to change. I'm going to be nineteen soon. We are now in an adult to adult relationship. Now, I'm leaving. I'm going to meet Mary."

  Sarah walked towards the door and continued out of the room.

  "I can't believe this. Are you taking lessons from your father? You listen to me. You will tell me what I want to know because I'm your mother--"

  Sarah ran down the stairs to the front door, knowing what would happen if her mother tried to stop her, and regretting the confrontation in advance.

  But no confrontation came. After leaving the house she walked the length of the driveway as the sun faded beneath the tree line. There was no wind, not even a breeze. Only the soft scent of pine assailed her nose.

  On the way to Birk Street, she looked over her shoulder often, and watched everyone that passed.

  She always knew she could trust no one. She couldn't trust Mary. She couldn't trust her mother or she would have told her what's happening.

  Now she had confirmation that a strange man had been watching her at the fair. He'd called her at home. That would mean he knew where she lived.

  And he wanted her notebook.

  While walking towards downtown she roamed her forearms for any remote hair she could pull out.

  Chapter 8

  Esmerelda stubbed her foot and almost fell getting into her trailer. She cut herself preparing vegetables. Her forehead had a small goose egg from when she bumped a cupboard.

  The fear was causing her to be clumsy. It must have to do with all the unknowns. Why was Sarah breaking into the Psychic Fair's property? Why were Dolan and Alex so interested in her?

  After the police took Sarah home, Dolan and his assistant questioned her for almost an hour. It broached on harassment. Nothing she said satisfied them. They were convinced she knew more. Dolan said Sarah left a message at the admissions desk for her. It was proof Esmerelda was involved with this young girl in some way.

  Esmerelda eased her heavy frame onto the blanket covered chair that sat in a corner nook of her trailer. She sipped raspberry tea as she tried to decide what to do.

  What she didn't tell the others was how Sarah reminded her of her own daughter, Denise. It was uncanny how similar they were in appearance, except for the hair thing. And what was that? Did the girl lose it because of some kind of condition or did she pull it out herself?

  When she looked at Sarah yesterday she actually thought she was lookin
g at a younger Denise. It broke her heart because she hadn't talked to her daughter since her husband's death.

  John Hall had left everything to their daughter. Not a penny was willed to Esmerelda. Her family had not approved of psychic readings. They'd called it a sin.

  Her husband's will was specific. A trust fund was set up for Denise once John's company was dissolved. If it was to be revealed that Esmerelda profited from any of it, the trust fund was to be dispersed to charity.

  It was this callousness that drove Esmerelda out two years before her husband's death. They'd separated and Esmerelda joined the Psychic Fair to travel with Dolan. She didn't attend her husband's funeral and only talked to Denise when she called to ask why she wasn't there.

  That was almost twenty years ago.

  When Sarah had walked into the fair yesterday she couldn't help but stare. She thought she was looking at Denise.

  Her husband and daughter were a part of the past.

  Meeting Sarah and seeing Denise in her face was more than a coincidence. It was time for mother and daughter to talk. Something told her she would see her daughter again soon.

  Esmerelda picked up her cell phone and dialed information. Then she stopped, hit end, set the phone down and leaned back in her chair. Maybe it was too late. She could try tomorrow.

  The remote was on the table. She picked it up and turned the television on.

  She flipped through channels until she got to the news. The news anchor was pleading for the girl who pulled her from the river to come forward. A story came on about a kidnapping a few months back and how a teenager had intervened there too.

  She knew that sometimes Dolan helped locate missing people. She couldn't count how many times he'd worked with the police. He hated it though. It wasn't that he didn't like helping children; it was the notoriety it gave him that he complained about. The Psychic Fair would get busier after he was in the newspaper for finding a missing child. People would swarm him for help with lost loved ones. They would stay after the fair closed, trying to get a chance to talk to Dolan.