The young man shook his head. “Won’t do her any good now.”
“You don’t know James Lachlan. When he gets back, he’ll tear that judge apart. And he’ll take care of the wife and the baby. You’ll see. He’ll—” He cut off as a heavy door swung open. There wasn’t much light coming from it.
They again pulled the young man upright.
“For once in your life,” the older man sneered into the prisoner’s ear, “do something honorable.”
The man in the middle didn’t respond. He muttered something that sounded like, “Not me,” but the guards ignored him. They went forward and the heavy door loudly closed behind them.
The scene faded to black and Sara, her spirit hovering above them, thought,No. I can’t wake now. I still don’t understand.
The scene began to grow lighter and she watched intently.
A man was gathering up a load of clothes to put into a laundry cart. He looked at a shirt collar and frowned. It appeared to have blood on it. But when he looked closer, he grimaced. “Ink,” he muttered. “Where did he get that?” He knew that anything unusual was to be reported to the warden. But then, he looked around. No one was about. He wadded the shirt into a ball and went through two rooms. The windows were barred and there were a couple of armed guards in the background. They barely glanced at the man with the laundry. When he got to a room that was piled high with coal, he opened the heavy iron door of the incinerator that gave the place its hot water. The man threw the shirt into the fire.
He smiled as he watched it burn. He knew there was something wrong about the shirt, but he didn’t know what it was. What he did know was that it was better to destroy it than report it. Every report agitated the warden and caused problems for everybody.
Still smiling, the man turned away and went back to the laundry cart.
Again, everything went black and this time, Sara knew the dream was over.
When she woke, she understood.Ink, she thought. Ink was the clue she’d needed to understand it all. But she wanted verification. Who should she ask? Barbara came to her mind.
In writing novels, it took Sara thirty thousand words to introduce characters and set the scene. But Barbara was used to scripts. Four lines were considered a soliloquy. She sent a text to Barbara.
In the movie, what was the crime committed by the victim?
A pancake flip of Tale of Two Cities.
Sara knew exactly what she meant and it fit with what she’d pieced together from her three dreams—and from what she’d deduced.Any ink involved?
Made a neck as red as a 1940s lipstick.
Sara smiled.Show-off!she thought. They were both showing themselves as creative people.
Still smiling, happy to have figured out some things, she got off the seat and looked out the window. Jack was to the far left, hitting big weeds with his whacker. Randal was nowhere to be seen. Was he with Lea? But then Sara looked to the right and halted in place. She leaned so far forward that her head touched the glass.
Plodding across the grass, heading toward the cottage, was Greer. It had to be her as Rachel was, well,unalived, as they called it online.She shouldn’t be here!Sara thought.
But worse was that she was helping her grandmother walk. Alish! Who was supposed to be in the hospital! Greer was taking her—dragging her?—to the cottage. Why? Was it voluntary? From what they’d heard recently, Greer could be a real psycho.
Sara grabbed her phone. Who to tell? Lenny had no phone. Jack was closest. Sara sent a text to him.
Greer & Alish are in the cottage. I’m going to them. Come now.
She looked out the window to Jack. Of course he didn’t hear his phone over the noise of that machine. Sara got off the seat and began running. She went down the old stairs to the kitchen but it was empty. Not even Lenny was there. She didn’t have time to stop and search for someone.
She flat-out ran to the cottage, flung the door open, and there was Greer, leaning over Alish as she reclined on the little couch.
The smile Alish gave her had such warmth that Sara’s frantic feeling left her.
“You heard me,” Alish said. “Not many people can. You saw. You heard.”
“I did,” Sara said. She could feel herself relax. This woman was a kindred soul. A person who listened and watched. Someone who saw more than she told. Sara pulled up a seat and sat down while Greer handed her grandmother a glass of water, then sat down.
“She was leaving the hospital, sneaking out.” Greer’s voice was full of fear, her eyes beginning to tear. “I know I wasn’t supposed to show myself but I couldn’t help it. I needed—”
Alish reached up and took her granddaughter’s hand. “I felt you. I wanted to see you.”
