Dream Huntress (A Dreamseeker novel) (Entangled Ignite) (23 page)

Chapter Twenty-two

“Please God, no! Please, no!” Jordan heard the words, felt them pouring, over and over from her mouth, but she couldn’t quiet them.

“Jordan, it’s okay. I’m here.”

“Ty.”

“No, it’s Bahan.”

Disoriented, she struggled to remember where she was. Tara and the diner were still front and center in her mind. “That’s why Tara took me to the diner,” she whispered.

“What? Damn it, Jordan. What are you saying?”

She turned her head and looked at Bahan. “The drugs,” she said. “It’s going to happen tomorrow. At the Titus Diner. Ty’s going to get shot unless we help him.”

Bahan wasn’t an easy guy to shake up, but Jordan knew she’d managed to do it. His eyes were huge, and he was holding his gun. “Jordan, you had a dream. A bad one, apparently. You scared the shit out of me screaming like that.” He sat his gun on the nightstand. “Wait here.”

Bahan left the room and returned with two glasses. “Drink this.” He pushed one into her hand and tossed back the other.

Coughing, she choked down the vodka. “Are you trying to kill me? I thought that was water.”

“You need something stronger than water after that dream. So do I. Damn it, you scared the crap out of me, Jordan.”

Searching the room, she located her jeans and then pulled them on. “It wasn’t just a dream. I mean, it was but… Look, I can’t explain right now, but the drug exchange is going to happen in the diner on Main Street in Titus. I think tomorrow around two. We have to go. We have to be there.”

He pulled her to the bed and sat beside her. “I know sometimes dreams seem very real. But I think—”

“No buts, Bahan. You have to call your people, tell them to be ready.” She took his hands and squeezed tight. “We have enough time to set up everything.” She was familiar with the look he was giving her, the are-you-crazy one. “I know we don’t have much to go on, but I swear this is for real.”

“Are you listening to yourself? I mean, really listening? You want me to gather DEA, FBI agents, and police officers for the second day in a row, waste all that man power again, because you had a dream? I can’t do that. You know I can’t do that.”

“I’m not some crazy off the street, Bahan.” She grabbed the sweatshirt she had on earlier. “Don’t treat me like I’ve lost my mind.”

“Jordan, come on. If McGee suspected something else was going to happen, don’t you think he would have said something?”

“He doesn’t suspect anything.” Damn. She didn’t have time for this. Ty’s life was in danger, and Bahan was giving her the third degree. Telling him about the dreams could end their friendship, not to mention their working relationship, if he decided she was nuts.

She covered her eyes with her hand. Was she really going to do this again? Hell, yes. If it was the only way to get backup for Ty, she’d risk anything.

Bahan was still sitting on the bed. She eased down next to him and looked him in the eyes. “I’ve never told you this before, I hoped I’d never have to tell anyone, but sometimes I have dreams. In the dreams are visions. Most of the time, it’s visions of a case I’m working on. I can’t explain it, I don’t know why or how it happens, so don’t ask.

“It’s how I knew to look for traces of blood in the garage on the last case. It’s how I tracked down that old warehouse the Angelo brothers killed that girl in, and it’s how I know the drugs are coming into Titus tomorrow. I’ve never asked you to go out on a limb for me like this, but I need your trust. I’m not making it up. I swear to you, I’m not.”

“I need another drink.” He walked out of the room and returned a few seconds later with the entire bottle of vodka. “So…you’re telling me you’re like, what? A witch? Voodoo? Psychic?” He leaned against the doorframe.

“No. I don’t stick pins in dolls and put curses on my enemies. See, this is why I don’t tell people.”

“Relax, Broomhilda, I’m just trying to figure out what you’re saying.”

“Ha ha, you’re hysterical. Just forget it.” She pulled her hair back and slipped a rubber band around it. She felt like an idiot. Should have known better than to say anything to him. “Can you at least take me home? I have things I need to do.”

“No. You can’t drop a bomb like ‘I have visions, I have dreams’, and then get angry because I need a little explanation. Things are fairly black and white to me.”

He grabbed her wrist as she attempted to push past him. “Are you saying you’re so good at what you do because you’re a psychic?”

“No.” On a flash of anger, she jerked away, but then had second thoughts about letting anger get in the way of Ty’s safety. If Bahan didn’t understand and wouldn’t help her, no one would.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve never put a label on it. I think I’d be considered more a medium than a psychic. I can’t read minds or anything, but I see a lot of dead people. It’s not something I do on purpose; it just happens.”

He paced away and ran a hand down the back of his neck. “There are a couple of psychics that contact the bureau from time to time. Some of the guys claim they’ve gotten a pretty good lead from them once or twice. I know people say it happens, but I—”

“Always thought those people were full of it. Yeah, me, too. I guess I still figure a good portion of people who claim some kind of sixth sense are liars. I’ve done my best to suppress it, make it go away. During the day, I’ve pretty much got it licked. But at night, when I’m sleeping, sometimes it comes back with a vengeance.

“This has been happening your whole life?”

“Pretty much.”

“And you’ve never told anyone? Why?”

“Are you serious? You just called me Broomhilda, you idiot. Nothing good has ever come out of me telling anyone about this. Ty was the first person I’ve told in years and only because I had no choice.”

He held up both hands. “Back up. What’s McGee have to do with your dreams?”

This was getting complicated. She hesitated, but coming clean with Bahan was the only chance she had, that Ty had. “While I was in Titus, I kept having dreams about a teenage girl. I had no idea who she was, but I kept seeing her murder over and over. Ty had never told me he even had a sister, but when I was at his parents’ house, I saw her picture.”

Bahan stepped back and squeezed his eyes shut like his head was swimming. “McGee had a sister that was murdered?”

“Yes. Her name was Tara,” Jordan said.

“Let me see if I got this straight. You saw a girl get killed in one of your dreams, but had no idea who the victim was?”

She nodded.

“And McGee had a sister who was murdered, but never mentioned it, even after you two had slept together?”

She nodded again. “It’s hard to explain—”

Bahan held up one finger to stop her. “You really need to work on your communication skills.” He grabbed the vodka bottle and took a healthy swig. “So you saw the guy who killed McGee’s sister? Were you able to arrest him?”

“I don’t know.” Jordan shrugged. She was trying to ignore the lump welling in her throat. “Ty didn’t believe me when I explained how to track the guy down. In fact, he was brutally honest in his reaction. Asked me if I was crazy.” She blinked back the tears, simply refused to cry in front of Bahan. “I haven’t taken any of his calls or returned his texts since.”

“Unbelievable. He’s called me a million times, you know that? I told him to back off. I figured he did some stupid asshole man thing that all of us do, but…Did you give him time to absorb this bombshell?”

She wouldn’t admit it to Bahan, but the answer was no. She was too hurt to give him any time to understand. Now she wondered if maybe it would have made a difference.

Bahan sat her down on the bed. Stared at her as if she were in the interrogation room. “Are you in love with him?”

The tears did come now. She shook her head, refusing to answer because she’d never been good at lying to Bahan. “It doesn’t matter. Loving someone doesn’t mean you can accept who they are.”

“I don’t want to play devil’s advocate,” he said, “but I’ve known you for years. We’ve got a long history, so whatever you’re telling me isn’t going to keep me from caring. But it is big. Huge, in fact. Did you give McGee a fair shake?”

“I don’t know. I tried to hide the truth and pretend I was normal. But I’m not normal, and I never will be.”

“No arguments here.”

She glared at him.

“Based on the number of times he’s tried to get me to spill information about you, I’m thinking if you asked McGee if he wants normal or he wants you, you’d probably be surprised how quickly he’d jump on a little insanity in his life.”

Jordan tugged on her shoes. “I can’t waste any more time. I’ve got to go. It’s okay if you can’t come with me.”

“Yeah, I’m going to let you go back to Titus alone and play renegade again, since it worked so well for you last time.” He shook his head, then whistled. “We’re really talking about a dream here? How do you know it hasn’t already happened? Or maybe it’s going to happen next week. There’s a lot of money and man power tied up if you’re wrong, Jordan. Do you know for sure it will happen tomorrow?”

There were no hard and fast rules when it came to dreams. But she knew it hadn’t happened yet. If something had happened to Ty, she’d feel it in every part of her soul. Cowboy would have moved heaven and earth be the one in her dream instead of Tara.

The other side of the coin was that she couldn’t promise the drug exchange was going down tomorrow, but she felt that Tara’s timing was key.

Jordan looked at Bahan, trying to decide how to answer. She’d dismissed the dream about her family, and it had cost her everything. She could live with a pissed off Bahan if she happened to be wrong. But if she was right and didn’t act on it, failing Ty would be the one thing she could never live with.

“Yes, Bahan. I’m positive it’s happening tomorrow. I’m going to Titus with or without you.”

Chapter Twenty-three

Jordan pulled in two narcotics detectives she worked closely with, and Bahan was able to roust three FBI buddies who owed him favors. Jordan and Bahan had spent most of the night going over the plan. She went through it with the team as Bahan drove the unmarked van—for the second day in a row—to Titus.

“Two unidentified male suspects will be meeting with Arlo and Warren Buck inside the diner. One will have long, dark hair, sunglasses, blue windbreaker. The other will be blond with a green fatigue jacket.”

“How did you get this information?” asked one of the special agents.

Jordan felt her back go straight, stiffening at the question.

“We got a tip from an agent in deep cover,” Bahan said over his shoulder. “There was mention of a diner, and he thinks these two are the delivery guys for the Delago Cartel. Their clothing may not be the same, but it’s what they were last seen in.”

Jordan turned and met Bahan’s eyes in the mirror, hoping her silent
thank you
registered loud and clear.

“History tells us Buck will probably have a few guys with him, bouncers from his club. One of those guys will be our inside cop. Tall. Dark, wavy hair. Don’t hurt him,” she added.

Bahan pulled into the town’s twenty-four-hour department store and parked in the back of the lot. “We’re going to take a few minutes, pull our undercover look together. Be right back.”

Jordan hopped out of the van with the spray she needed to gray Bahan’s hair. “You’re going to need to bend down—”

“Hey,” he said, “you can’t keep up this pace. Slow down. Take a breath.”

“I can’t slow down. If I do, I’ll lose it. I can’t lose it. Ty’s life is at stake.”

“You’ve got to relax a little, or you’ll be too wiped out to get this done. You did a good job pulling it all together at the last minute.”

“
We
did a good job.” She hugged him, then stepped back. “I couldn’t have done any of it without you. You’re indulging me on something you don’t believe in, I get that, and yet, you’re still standing behind me. I won’t ever forget it.”

“Fuck it,” he said. “If you can’t do something crazy with guns and drug dealers once in a while, what’s the point, right?”

She shook her head at him and laughed. Bahan was right, the tension inside her was coiled so tightly, it felt like the first real breath she’d taken in hours.

All the humor quickly left his face, and he propped his hands on his hips. “I don’t think either one of us is going to forget this night, Jordan. But I still have one reservation. If McGee’s life is in danger, we should give him a heads-up. If it were me, I’d want to know.”

Jordan shook her head adamantly. “You’d want to know so you could change things, do something different, alter what you’d normally do. If Ty does that, it might not go down like I’m anticipating.

“Right now, I know I can take out the crooked Longdale cop. I don’t want to risk Ty by doing anything different to mess it up. If he hesitates or acts too early or gives himself away, it could get more dangerous. I say we go with the plan just the way it is.”

Jordan tucked her hair under a curly gray wig and put on some old-lady makeup and clothes. She grayed Bahan’s hair and forced him to wear the pants and jacket she’d picked out. She gave him some old-man glasses and was pretty damn happy with the result. She aged them both by at least thirty years.

When the team was in position and they were ready to proceed, Bahan went into the diner ahead of her and picked out a booth.

She walked in a minute later and looked up. Twinkling Christmas lights, a Santa banner, and the neon clock that read 1:36 hit her full force. She stopped abruptly.

Bahan caught her attention and motioned her over with an angry wave. “What the heck are you doing? Trying to get noticed?”

“No. Sorry.”

They settled, and the waiting game began. A waitress filled their coffee cups. They ordered,
slowly
. Poked at the food that came,
slowly.

“This is incredibly nerve-racking,” Jordan mumbled. “I don’t know how you can eat. I feel like I could throw up.”

“If we both go into a diner, order food, and don’t bother to eat, someone may wonder what the hell we’re doing here. So take a bite, will you?”

Attempting to ease the thundering in her head, she rubbed at her temples. Maybe she
was
wrong. About the day? About the time? Her dreams were never wrong, but maybe she’d confused things because of her feelings for Ty?

Christ, her feelings for Ty
. They were stronger now than they’d ever been. What if Bahan was right? What if she’d endangered Ty, because she didn’t warn him? A huge lump swelled in her throat, and her heart tumbled right over itself.

“Yo.” Bahan snapped his fingers close to her face. “Don’t do that. Do not space out on me.” His voice was soft and controlled, but it held the dangerous warning she needed to get her head back on straight.

She nodded, channeled the Ice Bitch again, and put the fear behind her. She was
not
wrong. Everything inside her said this was going down today.

The bell on the door chimed. Someone entered. Bahan said nothing, but gave her the nod. Barely shifting, she watched the Longdale cop with blond, spiky hair walk up to the counter and sit on a stool.

“We got a bird in that nest out behind the house.” Bahan used the code sentence.

It was less than five minutes before the bell chimed again. The stunned look on Bahan’s face told Jordan she’d gotten the details correct. She didn’t bother to turn. Didn’t need to.

“We got eggs in the nest, too.” Bahan said for the benefit of the wire. “Six for sure,” he said, indicating the number of suspects with guns. “Maybe as many as seven.”

She listened to the sounds of people settling in, calculating the best moment to risk a glance. When she did, she realized she hadn’t just gotten most of it right, she’d nailed every last damn detail down to the color of clothing they wore and the seats they chose.

The Longdale cop sat with his back to the others, but it was a good bet he was listening to every word. Jordan blocked out everything but the cop—nerves, fear, thoughts of Ty erased from her mind. Like a machine, she processed the threats. Hand on her gun, she waited for Bahan to signal that Warren was making his move.

Bahan slid a finger across the tabletop, mirroring Warren’s slide of the duffel bag.

The payoff was moving.

“Freeze, you’re under arrest,” Ty’s voice sounded from behind her.

She flew out of the booth.

The dirty Longdale cop swiveled, aimed his gun toward Ty.

Jordan pulled her trigger, and the dirty cop slumped to the floor. Bahan rushed Arlo and Warren. Ty jumped one of the drug dealers, wrestled him down. She heard fists connecting with bone and finally, a gunshot.

Christ, no.

What had she missed? What hadn’t she seen in her dream?

Neither Ty nor the drug dealer moved. Jordan’s world hung motionless for an eternity. She tried to go to him, wanted to rush toward their tangled limbs, but everything inside her froze. A pool of blood spilled onto the floor, and even her heart and breath seized.

Ty finally lifted his head, and the room spun.

Jordan’s slow-motion world resumed speed, sounds and movement penetrating through the deafening roar of her heartbeat. People were cuffed, and Miranda rights were given. Local and state backup burst through the doors in full force, but still, she couldn’t move.

Untangling himself from the drug dealer, Ty stood and stared down at the man lying in a pool of blood at his feet and then turned his face toward Jordan.

Bahan stepped next to her. “You okay?”

“I will be.” She forced herself to look at Bahan. “Can I take the van? I need to get out of here.”

“Now? Are you kidding? We’ve got to report and—”

She felt the dizzying rush of blood drain from her head. Bahan grabbed her arm and hustled her out the door.

Once outside, she yanked the wig from her head and bent over, taking a few deep breaths. The crisp December air slapped some life back into her. “I won’t be gone long; I just need a few minutes.” She stood upright. “Can you cover for me? I still have the key to my apartment here in town. I’ll head there, wash this makeup off, pack up my clothes so that when we leave this time, I don’t ever have to look back.”

Bahan frowned. “He’ll still be here when you get back, you know. You can’t hide from McGee forever.”

“Maybe not forever, but for right now. That’s all I’m asking.”

Bahan nodded. “I can give you a little time, but be quick about it. And I need you to leave your weapon.” He picked up her hand and dropped the keys into it.

She headed across the street to the bulky, white surveillance van. She reached for the door handle and heard footsteps behind her. She didn’t turn around, but she knew by the cadence of the walk and the way her heart raced that Ty was right behind her.

“So that’s it? No ‘see you around, Ty.’ No ‘have a nice life, Ty.’ No ‘I hate your guts, Ty.’ You just walk away?”

She tried to ignore the emotion that welled up under the hurt in his voice. “They all three apply. Consider them said if it makes you feel better.” She opened the van door.

Pushing it shut, he trapped her between his arms. His breath streaked down her neck, lodging a thundering, vibrating drum somewhere in the vicinity of where her heart used to be.

Every muscle in her body tightened. She closed her eyes.

“Look at me, Jordan,” he said, turning her in his arms.

He was close. Too close. He put a hand under her chin and lifted her head.

She forced her eyes open. His gaze was still the most breathtaking sight she’d ever known, but looking at him hurt worse than any physical pain ever had. He was quite simply a painful reminder of what she was. Of what she would never have.

His stroked her cheek.

Damn it, she wanted to be strong, strong enough not to tilt her head and melt into his touch, but she couldn’t quite manage it.

“You saved me in there, didn’t you?” he asked. “How did you know?”

“Lucky guess.”

“No. Lucky dream,” he answered. “For me, anyhow.”

She looked everywhere but at him. “I have to…um, go. I have business to take care of.”

“No you don’t. Any business you need to take care of is right here.” He weaved his fingers in the tangled mess of her hair and leaned his forehead against hers. “Please don’t run from me, baby.”

“What’s the point, Ty? You want me to tell you that a dream is how I knew you were in danger? And if I tell you that, will you ask me if I’m crazy again?”

“No.” He tightened his hold on her head when she attempted to pull away, forcing her eyes directly to his. “Then I tell you I love you, and maybe you tell me you love me, too.”

She shook off his hands and forced him back a step. “It won’t work.”

“It does work. Better than anything has ever worked for either of us, and you damn well know it.” He swallowed hard. “I caught the kid who killed Tara because of what you told me. You were right. About everything.” He forced in a long breath and released it slowly. “Arron Thomas. He graduated from North Cooper High last June. He was visiting his cousin when they decided to go to the same party Tara went to.”

Jordan’s breath exhaled on a
whoosh
. Not now, not here, she silently pleaded.

“He said he didn’t know why he did it, other than he was using drugs. He felt powerful, like he could get away with anything, but he didn’t plan to kill her. That’s what he said.” Ty’s voice broke. “There was no reason. No reason for killing my sister.”

Oh, God, she wanted to touch him, put her hand on his face, maybe run her fingers through his hair. Just one small touch to let him know she was glad they’d gotten some closure.

She simply couldn’t take it, and finally, she reached for his hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t know if it helps or not, but I know she loved you so much. She still loves you.” Jordan debated for a long moment, then said, “Tara was the one who saved you today. She came to me in a dream last night and showed me what was going to happen. I don’t think she ever came to me because of what happened to her. I think it was you she wanted to save the whole time.”

Ty squeezed his eyes tight, but Jordan had already seen the tears. He put his hands on her hips, like he’d done so many times before, and pulled her body close to his.

“I’m so sorry for not trying to understand more, for not giving you a chance to explain. I had been trying so hard for so long to figure out what happened to Tara, it just didn’t seem possible that information from a dream could suddenly solve it. But then I sat down and really put it together, everything you said…” His voice clogged and trailed off.

Pressed so closely against him, she didn’t stand a chance in hell of thinking clearly. Or of avoiding the painful, consuming emotions. “Ty, please stop. It’s okay—”

“No, it’s not okay. It hasn’t
been
okay since you left. I can’t eat or sleep or function. I’ve been trying to find you. Twenty-seven phone calls, thirteen texts. You wouldn’t answer your phone. Hell, Jordan, you’re killing me here.

He crushed his lips against hers, and the need was so desperate, so raw, pushing him away never felt like an option. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and the kiss tumbled quickly from heartsick and needy to fierce in a matter of seconds. His arm squeezed more firmly around her waist and crushed her even tighter against him.

Their lips fused and tangled. He kissed her until she was senseless, dizzy, until she had to pull her head back and gasp for air.

His chest was still heaving when he eased back and studied her for a long moment. “I’ve thought about you every second of every day we’ve been apart. I understand you have dreams, bad ones. I get that you don’t understand them fully or why they appear, but I’m not scared. It’ll never make me stop loving you.”

Her heart tumbled when he said that he loved her. But what kind of life could she give him?

“You think you can love someone like me.” She shook her head. “But you haven’t even seen the tip of it. How dark it is sometimes. How awful, violent, sad it can be. How it drives me to do things, to take chances that aren’t smart ones. It would never be an easy, peaceful life with me.”