Page 81 of Trouble Comes in Threes

“Only because I couldn’t reproduce the vision. And the only thing we’ve done since the vision is ask Randy to look into the homeowner with an arrest record who lived next door. Besides, we opened the box this afternoon, and there wasn’t much in it. A ring, a necklace, and some love letters.”

He made a sympathetic face and set the glass on the counter. “Is there any chance it wasn’t a vision?” I started to protest, but he held up a hand and took a step toward me. “Hear me out. You’ve never had a vision in your sleep and never of people you weren’t next to. I know how worried you are about everything going on, and your concern that Hardshaw has regrouped and is coming back to the county. Maybe you just manifested the vision.”

I stared at him in disbelief. “Are you seriously suggesting I imagined it?”

“No…” He ran a hand over his head and groaned. “I don’t know. You have to admit this is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before.”

“I know what a vison is, Joe,” I snapped. “I’ve had them my entire life.”

“I know. I know.” He started to pace. “I’m not tryin’ to accuse you of not knowin’ your own mind?—”

“It feels an awful lot like you are.”

He stopped and turned to face me. “I’m just tryin’ to make sense of it.” When I didn’t say anything, he added, “Look, I’m exhausted.” He gave me a pleading look. “I’m sorry.”

I nodded, not able to bring myself to say it was okay. Joe was one of the first people outside my family whom I’d told about my visions. While I understood why he was trying to dismiss my experience, it still hurt my feelings that he of all people didn’t understand. The visions weren’t in my imagination. They had a feel to them that was undeniable, and I always blurted out what I saw. It had been a vision, no doubt about it. It was the dreams that were so similar to the vision that confused me. I’d witnessed a woman being murdered, and I had no idea who she was or how to stop it. I’d hoped Joe would help me figure it out, not accuse me of letting my imagination run wild.

“Rose…” He walked toward me and pulled me into a tight hug. “I’m sorry. Truly. I believe you. I guess I’m just scared about what it means.”

“So am I.”

He tilted my head back and stared into my eyes. “We’ll figure this out, okay?”

“I don’t know how we’ll figure this out. I don’t know whose vision I’m having, and I have no idea how to find out.”

He cupped my cheek. “Randy’s working tomorrow. How about I have him look for this Selena.” He made a face. “I don’t suppose you saw what she looked like?”

“No.”

“That’s okay, but you got a good look at the man who shot the woman and the woman herself?”

“Yeah.”

He looked deep in thought before he said, “How about I ask our sketch artist to come out and draw what you saw.”

“How are we gonna explain that?”

“Don’t you worry about that. I’ll offer to pay him off the books, and he’ll just draw what you tell him to, okay?”

“Okay.” It sounded like a step in the right direction. At least we were doing something about it, which made me feel slightly better.

He tilted my head up higher and searched my face. “You didn’t see yourself or anyone else you knew?”

“No.”

He hesitated, then asked, “Not even Dermot?”

My heart skipped a beat. “Why are you asking about Dermot?”

“I know you two are friends. I know y’all don’t talk much anymore, but if there’s anything shady goin’ on in the county, he would probably know about it.”

Something about the way he said shady made me believe Dermot had been on his mind today. “You think he’s involved in the two murders?” I asked, incredulously.

His body tensed. “My gut says no, but I can’t rule it out.”

My heart skipped a beat. Was Dermot responsible for the murders? Why hadn’t I thought of that before calling him about Austin? But he’d seemed genuinely surprised by Austin’s story. He was also a man with morals, after a fashion, and I had a hard time believing he’d condone killing someone in cold blood like the murder Austin had witnessed. Then again, one of the men had said the “big guy” would be pissed…

“Rose?” Joe said, sounding concerned. “You look pale.”

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