Page 67 of Little Hidden Fears

“No reason.”

Whitlock didn’t seem to be buying it. He tipped his head to the side, looking at me like he suspected I was withholding something from him. I thought back to the dream I’d had, about what Noelle had said about me leaning into my dreams, realizing they are a gift, and trusting them more.

“I ... ahh, I’ve talked to you about some of the dreams I’ve had in the past,” I said. “I don’t know why I still get nervous about mentioning new ones. I guess I still feel a bit weird about them as a whole.”

He reached for his coffee and turned toward me. “Can I share something with you?”

“Sure.”

“When your father was alive, we got to talking one night when we were doing a stakeout. He told me you woke up in the middle of the night after having a bad dream. He heard you crying, and he went to your room. Do you remember?”

“I don’t. What was the dream about?”

“You told him you dreamed about a man drowning a woman in a pool. You remembered she had blond hair and wore a red dress. You also described a ring the man was wearing. It was silver and had a skull on it.”

“Wow, I can’t believe I don’t remember.”

“The next day, we received a call about a homicide. When we got to the house, we found a woman floating in the pool. Blond hair, red dress.”

“And the man with the ring?”

“It took a few months, but then we got a good lead on a suspect. We went to the guy’s house to bring him in for questioning. First thing we noticed was the ring he was wearing—silver with a skull.”

I was in shock.

“I wonder why my father never mentioned that to me,” I said.

“You were so young at the time. I think your father thought it best not to burden you with the weight of your clairvoyant moment. He didn’t even tell your mother.”

“What age was I at the time?”

“You couldn’t have been any older than six.”

Six years old.

It was a lot to take in.

My earliest memory of having these kinds of dreams was when I was ten. At the time, I didn’t talk to anyone about it. I feared no one would believe me. I also worried I’d be made fun of, so I stuck to the people I trusted—my parents.

“What did you find on the balcony?” I asked.

He glanced at me, a huge grin on his face as he said, “You tell me, kiddo.”

“Champagne on ice. I think Noelle put it outside during the engagement party or just prior to it. My guess is she’d intended on sharing it with Dominic later that night. She said it was a special bottle, not like the others.”

“Anything else about the dream? That is, if you feel like talking about it.”

“Nothing that adds to our investigation right now. What about you? Do you have anything new to share?”

“All roads have led to dead ends, as far as we’re concerned.”

“Foley was supposed to talk to Donnelly, the chief of police in Santa Maria, about the women who came forward about their abuse. Has he met with him yet?”

“Donnelly’s on vacation. He’ll be back in a few days. Say, what was your take on Gabe Romero?”

“Before I met him in person, I thought he’d be our prime suspect,” I said.

“And now?”

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