Page 40 of Chasing Dreams
“Describe it.”
“It’s white with blue numbers. There’s a thin red border. There’s something red in the middle.”
“What is it?”
“It’s—it’s the Statue of Liberty. My chest hurts.”
“It’s okay. That’s enough.” He pried open her fingers, letting the ballet slipper fall to the floor, and took her hands in his. “Shaine?”
The vision swam out of focus and the warmth of his hands on her ice-cold skin brought her back to the log house and the sofa where she sat. She turned astonished eyes on him. “What was that? What did I see?”
He released her hands and opened the folder. “Olivia Rose Jenkins. Birth date July 7, 2010. Abducted March 5, 2021, estimated date of death one day later. Father, a conductor for the New York Symphony.” He looked up. “And I’d bet money they drive a long silver car, have a little white dog and that New York license plates are white with a red Statue of Liberty.”
Feeling as though she’d just awakened from a drug-induced state, Shaine grappled with the heavy sense of misery that had accompanied the vision. Something horrible had lurked just out of reach. Shaine hadn’t seen it, but she knew of its existence. She felt it in her being. “What happened to her?”
He scanned the computer printout. “Abducted outside a dance school, missing for three months, until the FBI called in a psychic who located the body with this.” He used the tongs to pick up the shiny pink slipper and place it back in the envelope.
Watching him, she couldn’t help wondering why he used those tongs to avoid touching the slipper if he’d done as good of a job of shutting out his telekinesis as he claimed. However, a crushing sense of sorrow weighed on her heart and diminished the thought. “Do they have the person who did it?”
“Nope.”
“I wasn’t any help then.”
“That’s not why we did this. We did this to see what you could do.”
“And?”
“And I’m amazed at the accuracy of what you learned. I’ve seen cases where the detectives would have given anything for a license plate number or even a state to start in. Your vision is incredibly detailed and accurate.”
“But worthless.”
“In this case perhaps. But this child was already found.”
Shaine stared hard at the envelope, thinking of how careful he’d been not to touch the girl’s slipper. “If you held it...would you see the person who killed her?”
His jaw tensed, and he raised his chin just a notch. “Maybe.” A minute passed and he met her eyes. “Probably.”
But he’d worked determinedly to put a lock on that ability. It wasn’t her place to judge him on that. She hadn’t experienced half the trauma he had.
“Note the way you did that now, Shaine. Do you remember how you got there?”
“Kind of.”
“Do you remember how you felt? Physically?”
She nodded. “My chest hurt. My hands were cold.”
“Those are reference points. Physical ones, but you have mental ones, too. Recognize them now and store them for next time.”
Exhaustion swept over her like a tidal wave. He must have seen it in her face or the way she let her boneless body sag back against the sofa cushions. “Need to sleep?”
She nodded. “How did you know? Did this happen to you afterward, too?”
“No.” He brought the blanket from the arm of the other sofa and draped it over her. “I recognized the pattern from your dreams. I was quite the opposite as a matter of fact.”
“How’s that?”
“After I’d done a session, I’d be wired for ten or twelve hours. I couldn’t have slept if I’d wanted to.”
