Dream Eyes

dreamscape.”
    “I’m psi-blind, but I’ve still got my normal vision and I’ve got the flashlight.”
    “What does it show you?”
    “Spalding’s body. His flashlight is nearby but it’s dead. The explosion destroyed it. I see the crystal weapon, too. It rolled over there by that pile of rocks. But I’m not paying a lot of attention to the body or the weapon because I’ve just realized that I’m going to have to swim out through the underwater cave system.”
    He stopped because there did not seem to be much point describing the endless nightmare that was the long swim out of the cave.
    “How do you know which direction to swim?” Gwen asked.
    “In the water I can feel the current. It’s slight but steady. I follow it.”
    “Not knowing if you’re going to come to a narrow place in the cave that you won’t be able to get through,” Gwen whispered.
    Even through the dreamtime atmosphere, he could hear the shiver in her voice.
    “I didn’t have any choice,” he reminded her. “Let’s finish this dream therapy thing.”
    “Sorry. Sometimes I get a little too caught up in a dreamscape. Okay, I think I’ve got the lay of the land, so to speak.”
    “Context.”
    “Exactly, context. You are about to go back into the water to make the long swim out to the sea but you are still at the surface, looking at the dry portion of the cave. Do you catch another glimpse of the object that you know is important?”
    “Yes.” Excitement rushed through him. “Yes, now I see it. Something small and white that doesn’t look like it should be there.”
    “Take a closer look at the object.”
    The dream sequence shifted fluidly around him. He looked away from the frozen curtain of aurora energy and turned to focus on the shadows that shrouded the dreamscape.
    “It’s over there on the other side of the pool,” he said. “It looks like the corner of a piece of paper. I can only see a small edge. The rest is hidden under a rock.”
    “Hidden?” Gwen pounced on the word. “Are you sure?”
    “There’s no way it could have landed where it did by accident. It’s near the spot where they murdered him.”
    “Who?”
    “The analyst.” Judson came out of the dream on a rush of adrenaline and psi. “He wasn’t dead yet, but he knew he was going to die. He tried to leave a message for whoever came looking for him. I have to get back into that cave.”
    “You’re going to swim back through those flooded tunnels?” Gwen asked.
    “I don’t think that will be necessary. In case you hadn’t heard, my father runs one of the biggest mining engineering companies in the world.”
    “Oh, yeah, right.” Gwen wrinkled her nose. “I keep forgetting you’re one of those Coppersmiths.”
    “If there’s one thing Dad knows, it’s how to dig through hard rock. Opening up the entrance to the cavern will be a walk in the park for him. Probably won’t take him more than a few days to get a crew and equipment in place.”
    “Gee, solve a couple of murders here in Wilby, and then it’s off to the Caribbean to solve a few more paranormal crimes involving strange pharmaceuticals and mysterious weapons.” Gwen sighed. “You live an interesting life, Judson Coppersmith.”
    “Yeah, my calendar seems to be filling up lately.” The image flashed across his senses. And suddenly it was all there, each piece falling neatly into place. “Damn. Should have seen it earlier.”
    “What?” Gwen asked.
    “The answer is on the calendar.”

Thirty-nine
    T he town of Wilby rolled up the streets at an early hour. The handful of restaurants were all closed by ten. The last pickup pulled out of the parking lot of the Wilby Tavern shortly before midnight. The staff left twenty minutes later.
    Judson waited until the darkest part of the night, and then he went in through the rear door of Hudson Floral Design. He was partially jacked. To his psychic vision, the knives, shears, pruners, snips and thorn strippers arrayed on the workbench gleamed like so much medieval weaponry. The glass vases on the shelves glittered with an acid-green crystalline light.
    He moved into the front area of the shop and made his way behind the counter. The door of the small office was closed, but it was unlocked. People who lived in small towns got into some very bad habits when it came to security.
    The interior of the office looked much as it had when he and Gwen had talked to Nicole. The torn and mutilated photos were still tacked to the