For Nevermore Season 1

saved her, so he could obviously do things most people couldn’t. But then Noella remembered their last exchange and how angry he had been. She didn’t want to face that again. Besides, she wasn’t sure what contacting Dante would actually do, or even if she would be able to.
    Noella’s mind returned to the water tower.
    Maybe if she told the sheriff’s deputies about the water tower they’d be able to find the house. Though given how Josie and Jen, two people whom she was close to, had just reacted, what could she expect from sheriff’s deputies who probably heard from crazy, tinfoil hat-wearing weirdos all the time? All the deputies knew Noella’s history and about the recent weirdness at the coffee shop. Anything she said would be dismissed as crazy talk or get her a one-way trip to King’s Point Psychiatric.
    No, she couldn’t trust the police.
    An unsavory idea suddenly slapped her. It was the last thing in the world she wanted to do, but perhaps her only choice. She could call Randy.
    Sure, Randy was a jerk, but he was a good deputy and knew Aurora Falls like the back of his hand. If anyone could find a house given the vague details Noella had in her head, it would be him. While she would still face resistance when Randy learned that her details were delivered in a dream, Noella figured she’d probably face less opposition from Randy than anyone else. He already thought there was something spooky about Noella. He’d said as much two years earlier, and had shown as much when questioning her about how Mets Hat wound up dead. He knew something was off about her, so why not just tell him? Especially if it could save Tori.
    But what if he still upset about last night? If he was holding a grudge, he might tell Noella to screw off. It seemed unlikely, however. Say what you want about Randy being a hothead, he usually got over stuff the next day and was often eager to make amends. Perhaps he’d even welcome the chance to get back into Josie’s good graces by helping out.
    Noella swallowed her pride, then picked up the phone and dialed Randy’s cell.
    “Yeah?” he said sharply, obviously screening the caller ID.
    “Randy,” she said, getting right to the point. “Tori is missing.”
    “Tori?” he said, “Who’s Tori?”
    “The girl across the street. She went missing. And here’s the thing, I think the serial killer is holding her.”
    “What?” Randy said, “Did you dip into my whiskey?”
    “I know this is gonna sound crazy, but I saw her in a dream. She was being held in a basement with four rooms. I saw two other women in there, too, including Melissa Rayburn and some redheaded woman.”
    Randy was quiet for a long moment, sounding distracted. Noella thought maybe he was driving.
    “Randy, you there?”
    The silence continued, but just before Noella was about to ask if he was there again, Randy spoke. “A dream?” he finally said. “You saw something in a dream and you want me to do what?”
    “I think I know where the house is. The deputies are on the way over to Jen’s right now, but I don’t want to tell them or they’ll think I’m crazy. I was thinking maybe I could tell you what I saw and maybe you could find it? If you’re still mad at me, I’ll understand. I’ll just tell the deputies when they get to Jen’s.”
    Randy was quiet. Noella was afraid he was going to hang up on her, sick of dealing with her and Josie.
    “How about I pick you up and you tell me everything,” Randy said. “You don’t want to start telling the deputies about some crazy dream or they’ll likely throw you in King’s Point, ya’ know?”
    “Yeah,” she said, laughing in relief that he seemed to believe her.
    “I’ll be over in a few minutes.”
    The line went dead.

    * * * *

CHAPTER SIX

    Yesterday…

    Dante sat in Dr. William Foster’s office with his ankles crossed on top of the man’s desk, waiting until he finally heard the key turning in the door downstairs.
    Dante had already searched the office for any sign of The Book William used to communicate with the elders, but had found nothing, meaning either William carried it with him, or it was in his other office at the psychiatric hospital. Dante would have to rely on his instincts to tell if William was being truthful.
    He could read nearly anyone, but William was one of the few people in either of the worlds for whom that wasn’t always true. Though Dante had known him for centuries and was closer to him than almost