Silent Fall

because you paint your nightmares doesn’t mean that you’re out of your mind."
    "The only difference is that I think my nightmares might be real... actually happening in the world. It’s difficult to explain, but sometimes I feel like I’m inside the head of someone who is really... evil. It scares the hell out of me. For a long time I was afraid that I was sleepwalking, that I was leaving the house and killing people in my dreams. When I was younger I even set up barricades so I could make sure in the morning that I hadn’t left."
    "And you hadn’t," he said, sure that she didn’t have a mean bone in her body.
    "No, but I still felt like a witness to something I couldn’t remember. I used to read the newspapers in the morning after my dreams, wondering if I’d see news of some murder that would trigger a memory in my mind, but there was never anything that seemed familiar."
    He wanted to tell her that that was because her dreams weren’t real. But she’d probably just interpret that as another slam, and he sensed it wouldn’t take much to drive her away. Right now she was the only ally he had. "Why do you think you drew Erica’s face, especially the cross? Did you notice it last night when you saw her at the bar?"
    "Not consciously." She pressed a hand to her temple, as if he were giving her a headache. "Can we stop talking about this?"
    "How often do the nightmares come?"
    She sighed. "You’re very stubborn."
    "So I’ve been told."
    "It depends. Usually when I get them they go on for a couple of days or sometimes weeks. Then they just stop. It seems that the more in touch I am with the people around me, the more likely I am to have the nightmares. It’s as if I open up some emotional transmitter and I can’t filter out the bad from the good."
    "When did they start this last time?"
    She bit down on her bottom lip. "The night after I had the vision about you. The nightmares have been getting worse the last two months, intensifying every night. And this is the first picture where I’ve ever recognized the face. It must mean something."
    He ran a hand through his hair, feeling as if he were getting off track. He wasn’t going to find the answers to Erica’s disappearance in a painting or in Catherine’s dreams. He had to get real. "I’m going to call my lawyer." He needed to bring an objective party into the mix, and his longtime friend Mark Singer was a damn good criminal attorney. He would know the best course of action to take.
    "That’s a good idea," Catherine said with relief, lifting the painting off the easel.
    "What are you doing with that?"
    "Putting it away. I don’t like looking at it." She slipped the painting into a large portfolio and blew out a breath of relief.
    Dylan wished he could set aside his problems as easily. "Mark," he said as his attorney picked up the phone, "I’m in a hell of a lot of trouble."

Chapter Five

    While Dylan spoke to his attorney, Catherine tidied up her paints. She felt restless and a little short of breath. Dylan took up a lot of emotional and physical space, and she was so attuned to him that she sensed the tension in his body as if it were her own.
    A part of her really wanted to walk away from him, but the fact that she’d drawn Erica’s face and that maybe, just maybe, this time she had a chance to actually help someone in her vision made it impossible for her to consider leaving.
    Although she had to wonder why she was supposed to help the woman who had drugged Dylan and left him out in the woods all night. Was Erica the victim or the villain? Was she good or was she evil?
    As Catherine remembered the fear that had gripped her when she’d looked into Erica’s cabin, she suspected that Erica had gotten herself caught in the very trap she was supposed to be setting for Dylan. Catherine felt fairly certain that someone had been watching Erica last night. But who and why? And was Erica really in trouble? Or was her disappearance just part of the plan to set Dylan up?
    Catherine glanced over at Dylan as he ended his call. "What did your attorney say?"
    "Mark will call the sheriff’s office and see what he can find out," Dylan said. "Hopefully they’ll give him more information than they gave me. In the meantime I’d like to take a shower. Do you mind? I’ve been in these clothes way too long."
    "Help yourself."
    "Would you answer my phone if it