Page 41 of In Her Dreams
Richard and Anita faded away as well, their expressions confirming what Jenna now understood with sickening clarity: Sam Rodriguez had become the latest victim of whatever malevolent force had claimed them.
Jenna’s eyes snapped open, her body jerking upright.For a moment, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, her lungs seizing as if the collapsing dream-space had followed her into wakefulness.Cold sweat plastered her nightshirt to her skin, her heart hammering against her ribs.
She fumbled for the lamp beside her bed, desperate to banish the darkness.The warm glow illuminated her bedroom—normal, solid, real—but did nothing to dispel the chill that had settled deep in her bones.
“Sam,” she whispered into the empty room, the name like a prayer and a curse combined.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed, her movements stiff as if her joints had aged decades during the night.The digital clock on her nightstand read 4:13 AM.Too early to make calls, too late to hope for more sleep.
Her bare feet carried her to the kitchen where she started the coffee maker on autopilot, the familiar routine a lifeline to normalcy.The machine gurgled and hissed, filling the silence with comforting, mundane sounds.She considered making toast, but that seemed too complicated to bother with now.
Jenna slumped into a chair at her kitchen table, her mind racing yet somehow sluggish, as if wading through mud.The dream had been too vivid, too specific to dismiss.She’d experienced these visitations enough times to know they weren’t ordinary nightmares—they were communications from the dead.But the implications were too terrible to face.
Sam Rodriguez.Dead.Another victim claimed by the same force that had killed Richard and Anita.
Memories assaulted her—Sam teaching her to shoot at the range, his patient corrections as she adjusted her stance.Sam and Mary at department cookouts, his arm protectively around his wife’s shoulders.Sam on his last day before retirement, accepting the watch the department had pitched in to buy, his eyes misting as Frank make a speech about friendship and service.
How could she possibly call Mary and ask if her husband was dead based on a dream?The impossibility of explaining her knowledge paralyzed her.She took a gulp of coffee, not even noticing when it scalded her tongue.
The shrill ring of her phone sliced through the pre-dawn silence, making her jump.She reached for it, her hand trembling when she saw Frank’s name on the caller ID.
A surge of dread washed over her as she answered.“Frank?”
“Jenna.”Frank’s voice, usually so steady and sure, sounded shaken, thick with emotion.“Something happened.It’s Sam.Mary just called me.He’s—” His voice broke.
“Gone,” Jenna finished for him, her own voice barely above a whisper.“I know.He came to me, Frank.In a dream, just now.”
A heavy silence settled between them, the implications unspoken.
“Just like Richard and Anita?”Frank finally asked.
“Yes.”The word felt like lead on her tongue.“He was trying to tell me something, but he couldn’t.Richard and Anita were there too.”
Frank’s breathing was the only sound for several long moments.Then, with effort, his voice steadied.“Mary woke up to find him dead near their bed.Said he looked...terrified.Of course, she thinks it was a stroke or a heart attack.That’s what the paramedics told her at the scene.It wasn’t as if she suspected any foul play.She just wanted to let me know right away, since he and I were so close.”
Jenna closed her eyes, picturing Sam’s face contorted in that final, silent scream as the dreamscape collapsed around him.“It wasn’t just a heart attack or a stroke.”
“No,” Frank agreed.“I don’t think it was.”
Jenna took a deep breath, forcing steel into her spine.“I’ll pick you up in fifteen minutes.We need to go to see Mary.”
“I’ll be ready.”
As she ended the call, Jenna stood, moving with renewed purpose.She’d known Sam since she was a rookie, fresh-faced and eager to prove herself.He’d been a constant in her life, one of the few people who had supported her unconditionally after Piper’s disappearance, who had never once suggested she should “move on” or “accept” her sister’s fate.
She turned off the coffeepot and dressed quickly, her mind already shifting into Sheriff mode, cataloging facts, connections, patterns.Three deaths, all linked to extreme fear.Three victims with known phobias.Three threatening dreamcatchers—two she'd seen hanging on walls, another in her dream
The grief would come later, Jenna knew.For now, she channeled it into determination.Whatever force was at work in Trentville, it had taken someone she loved.As she checked her service weapon and grabbed her keys, Jenna made a silent promise to Sam, to Richard, to Anita, and to herself.
This ended now.Whatever it took, however impossible it seemed, she would find what was killing people with their fears—and she would stop it.Not just because it was her job, but because Sam deserved justice.Because they all did.
Because if she didn’t, she had the terrible certainty that the evil force in Genesius County wouldn’t stop with Sam.It would keep feeding, keep growing stronger, keep claiming victims until there was no one left to fear it.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Minutes later, Jenna was on the road to Frank’s house.She’d known Sam Rodriguez almost as long as she’d known Frank.He had been there when she first joined the force, patient and kind, teaching her the intricacies of small-town policing that academy training couldn’t provide.The thought of him being a victim made her stomach churn.
When she pulled up in Frank’s driveway, he must have been watching for her; he stepped out onto the porch before she could even cut the engine.
