Dreamstealer

By SE Berg

Secrets haunt all small towns, but this town holds a hidden secret that's pure evil. What if a buried secret threatens to unravel an entire town? Police Sergeant, Stuart Jenkins, moved from Boston to become Sheriff in the quiet, uneventful town of Woodsville. Running from a personal matter of his own, he finds himself uncomfortably welcomed by every woman making advances at him. A serial killer walks among them, and there's no shortage of suspects. Stuart believes the horrifyingly, disturbing, deaths are perpetrated by a female. Is it paranormal, folklore, or aliens? With the bodies piling up, mountains of evidence and no clear suspect, he hires a Deputy who schools him in local history, specifically, the Abenaki Indian tribe. Can Sheriff Stuart Jenkins catch her or will he be blinded because she steal’s his heart first?

• Language: English
• Publisher: SE Berg
• Release date: Nov 3, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370874262

SE Berg

SE Berg has a penchant for: murder, criminality, forensics, police and other authority agencies, as well as psychology. With a minor in psychology and love of analyzing human behavior you will find all of these themes in the stories and novels. Some of these stories lean toward paranormal in nature, which may provide an additional twist.

Book preview

DREAMSTEALER

SE Berg

DREAMSTEALER

SE BERG

Copyright 2016 by Suzy Ayers

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without prior written permission of both copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

The following is a work of fiction, a product of the author’s imagination. Any semblance to actual person’s or events is purely coincidental. This work contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright laws. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.

***

You can't wake a person who is pretending to be asleep. - Navajo

***

Staring through the tent, a smell of the decay wafted through. The rain from the night before hung in the air. Squishy earth below her feet stilled her motions at times. The suction and peeling of her feet from the muck made sounds that reverberated up her spine in a grotesque way. The cold brown liquid seeped into her socks; chilling her.

The mobs of people bundled up and passed by, glancing at the wares within her tent of dancing feathers and hoops that looked exotic and fun-as the marketers cooed touching the catchers. Remarking in the earthy smells, she had burned sage when she arrived there to remove ill spirits.

Shyly, she stood in the dark shade of the tent. The overcast day provided additional comfort, as she pulled the zigzagged patterned blanket around her shoulders. She needed to sell at least fifty dollars today-only fifty dollars more to go.

Packing up with wet feet and soggy socks, she left disheartened. Next week would be different. She promised herself.

***

Chapter 1

Sergeant Stuart Jenkins had found a decent paying job in a quaint, mountain town in New Hampshire. He was finally going to be able to get his own little piece of suburbia. If he was being honest, the bank owned it, but his name was on the mortgage. Doing a job, he loved and no longer living in Boston—he was tired of the city. Perhaps he was telling himself that to feel better about the situation or his choice.

Too many cops: burned out, were bought out or killed. He was tired of that life and he was leaving it all behind. Stuart wanted everything to slow down; to forget about it, about her—that evil woman who broke his heart. He still longed for her though—in his dreams. Her touch, her voice, the sexy way she sashayed, her scent; everything about her. He wished her image could be erased from his memory.

Stuart’s first day on the job consisted mainly of cleaning out the 1970’s retro style office. The prior Sherriff never used a filing cabinet or a trash can. Cobwebs nested every corner; he was thankful the spiders no longer bedded there.

The summer heat made the building feel like a glass coffin. Wiping his face of sweat; wishing it was sexier looking—like in the movies, but knowing it wasn’t. He’d already need his uniform dry cleaned, he thought to himself as he pulled some stray webs off his boot.

Hi there! a sweet, matronly voice called out.

He looked up to find an older woman adorned in an exorbitant amount of paste jewelry. She had on a powder blue jogging suit to boot.

Hello. He stood; brushing his hands on his dark blues. Leaning on the gunmetal desk in his new office; letting out a sigh, he thought, my office. It has a nice ring to it.

I’m Gertie. She carried a plate of goodies. Welcome, officer cutie. She pinched his cheek.

Stuart couldn’t help but smile and chuckled. Nice to meet you, Gertie. I’m Sergeant, he cleared his throat. Sheriff Stuart Jenkins. He stumbled over his own name, because he was still getting used to his new title.

Oh, so formal. Her nasally tone clipped his ear, as she tapped him on the forearm in an almost flirtatious manner.

Gertie! Oh, I am so sorry. A short plump woman waddled in, nearly falling over herself. She was clearly her daughter; they bared a resemblance anyone could see.

Hi there, I’m the new Sheriff. Gertie here was just introducing herself with what looks like some delicious cookies. He smiled peering over the plate of goodies.

Oh. This woman gasped and flustered, she began flirting as she played with her hair.

Definitely related; have they never seen a man before?

I’m Matilda, most just call me Tilly. I work at the bakery in town, she added quickly. She appeared a little slow, but sweet.

Very nice, well, I need to finish cleaning. He tried to entice them to leave.

They just leaned on their elbows, gawking at him.

Is there something else you need? he asked a little more sternly and gave them a harsh look to match.

Oh, no. They scampered out.

All he needed was an audience. He lugged the heavy trash bags and tossed them in the dumpster out front. Pulling a bottle of water from his back pocket, he wiped his brow with his shirt sleeve.

No, bad doggie! A blond haired young woman with a high ponytail and a soft, yellow dress scolded. She had multiple dogs in her charge. Two of whom were enjoying each others company, to put it mildly. She looked up to the sky and let out an aggravated yell.

Before Stuart could offer assistance, a black Labrador on a separate leash took off down the sidewalk. It was one way to solve that problem. The woman was yanked, harshly and dragged down the street. Stuart stifled his laugh, but couldn’t help it as he watched both the blonde and one of the toy dogs taken along for a ride. I’m a terrible person, he scolded himself.

Crushing the empty water bottle, he tossed it into the dumpster before returning inside the building. He spent the remainder of the day doing much of the same monotonous work.

This job was a promotion, even though it came with a huge pay cut. The title of Sheriff was the promotion, which saddled him with finding a deputy. He’d have to get to know the people in town. He knew the small-town mentality and their dislike for outsiders.

He locked the door for the night; leaving a handwritten note with his cell phone number and For Emergency’s Only. He was surprised this small town wanted their own police force again, but who was he to ask why. He was grateful for the opportunity.

Despite the heat, he was exhilarated to start fresh. Boston heat would be accompanied with hundreds of other bodies pressed up against him on his ride home on the subway. The intrusive perfume of oniony body odor and on a day like today, it could easily send a person over the edge. Not that a city person even needed a reason to be rude or start a fight.

This town had reported no crime, zero. And he planned to keep it that way. The heat here was accompanied with a cool breeze, crickets, and a woodsy scent. He could see the bright stars in the black sky and hear the howls from coyotes and croaking frogs. He did not miss the horns blaring and shouting from the neighbors back home.

Looking around, pride beamed over him, feeling like he had accomplished a little from the day. He stretched out the pain in his shoulders and then he looked outside his small office with the realization of how much he still had to do. He went home first to change—he didn’t want to scare potential deputies away with his stench.

Once home, he realized the bareness of the refrigerator, which groaned at him to be fed. He had to go to the grocery store. His new mortgaged life didn’t leave much room for ordering out almost every night, like he had been doing in his city apartment.

At the store, he saw that same pretty blonde, she was working another job. She was fighting with the register, as a cashier this time.

Why won’t you open? she yelled at it, with a ferocity that tinted her cheeks.

He watched her from the next checkout lane, as she became flustered noting the attention she was drawing. She was wearing the stores black uniform and name badge, but he couldn’t make the name out.

Placing his food on the short conveyor belt, he waited his turn. His cashier was a high-schooler. She was twirling some grape bubble gum on her index finger; completely uninterested in the world. She moved each item along at a snail’s pace with her other hand.

He didn’t care; it gave him time to watch her.

She had blue eyes and her cheeks were flushed in embarrassment. Her soft hair was partially down and he watched it dance along her shoulders as she shifted her feet, looking around anxiously.

Finally, a manager came over and helped her with the press of a single button on the register.

Yeah, sure, you do it and it works, she scoffed and shook her head. Her arms crossed harshly.

Stuart tried to stifle his laugh again.

Yeah, yeah, laugh at the dumb blonde. She shot a scathing look in his direction, catching his eye.

Feeling terrible, he walked up to the manager and asked what her name was.

Do you have a complaint? he asked, not bothering to look up. Another one, great. He sighed and pulled out his clipboard. His moustache twitched as he retrieved the pen from behind his ear.

Oh, no. I’m new to town, the new Sheriff. I just noticed she’s been having a difficult day, Stuart said with a broken smile.

The manager brought his clipboard to his side. Well, nice to meet you. Rod, Rod Anderson. We don’t cut any breaks though. So many people want jobs in this small town. We expect the best, he said, as they shook hands.

Stuart nodded. I understand, he spoke softly. Well, I like her. She’s got spunk, spirit. He smiled and tilted his head.

Yeah, that’s a nice way of putting it. Oh Hector, no. The manager walked away with a shuffled step and tucked the clipboard under his arm. Someone else’s imperfections had caught his attention.

All Stuart wanted was her name.

When Jenkins got home, he ate his lonely meal for one; sinking into his lone chair in front of the TV, as he zoned out into the shows. He had only a few pieces of furniture from his apartment in Boston. Not nearly enough for his three-bedroom house.

The house was a great deal. It had been sitting vacant a long time and he had spent a week cleaning the main living areas. He told himself ‘a box a day’. Tonight, however, he was too tired after all the cleaning at work. He passed out, beer in hand.

The next morning, he arrived at work to find a small, yellow Civic, the color of a banana, parked out in front of the building. Was it painted that way? As he walked up, he noticed her.

Just thought I’d let you know, you got me fired from that job. You think you can just saunter in, mister big, bad, cop and just tell people what to do. For your information, I’ve turned my life around. She backed away as she wagged her finger, angrily.

Stuart could not even get a word in edgewise. She dominated the conversation. It was like she controlled his air.

But, I- he attempted to speak.

Don’t interrupt me. Her hostility was like a haze surrounding them and she was almost to her banana color car. In this town, we stay out of each others business. So, I’d appreciate it, she sat in her car. If you stayed out of mine! she slammed the door with such force that the air inside her car, made her blonde hair flare up.

Please miss, I, he attempted to talk to her through the closed window.

She started her car, cranked her neck around, and drove away.

He held his hands out. What just happened? he said aloud to himself. Shaking his head, he went inside. He set his laptop on his desk and decided he’d figure out who she was. Trouble? He wondered just what kind of trouble her past entailed. He was interrupted before he even got started.

Good morning. A pleasant voice came through the room. I’m the Mayor of Woodsville, Teresa Brooks. She smiled a smile that was meant to be genuine, but with Stuart’s years of training he knew it was forced and stiff. He’d have to figure out her game, besides the fact that she was a politician.

Nice to meet you. Stuart Jenkins, the new Sheriff. He stood to shake her hand.

She was pretty enough, though her choice of a pantsuit in July struck him as odd.

It’s a quaint, small town inside of Haverhill. We even have our own post office. This time a prideful smile beamed through and showed her perfectly aligned teeth—it was almost unnerving how perfect.

Aren’t you hot? He held out a bottle of water.

She grinned again. You wear a uniform. I wear mine, she said waving off the water.

Well, I can’t remember a summer so hot. It’s nice to be away from the city though. He swigged his water back. And I appreciate you taking the time to come over to meet me. You’re the, he thought, as he mentally counted, Fourth person who’s been here.

Let me guess, Gertie and Tilly?

How? he asked gulping down the water.

They are the town’s self-proclAimeed welcoming committee. She crossed her arms.

Well, it doesn’t hurt that they own a bakery. Stuart munched on one of the small cookies.

"Right, well, I guess I’ll see you around, and if you need anything, you let me know. Oh, and here’s a list of all the town’s buildings. Here’s my office." She pointed with a seductive lilt to her voice.

He could smell her perfume and she leaned close to him. It was a sweet musky scent. Was she flirting? What is it with this town?

Oh, and who was the other? she asked turning back, as she was leaving.

I don’t know. I got reamed out, he grimaced. I don’t think she was having a very good day yesterday; I think she just took it out on me. He sat back down.

Hmm. Well, bye then. The wheels appeared to be turning.

Bye, Mrs. Brooks. He stood to say goodbye.

Miss. She corrected him, curtly.

Stuart nodded.

Teresa—I mean—call me, Teresa. A vexing, sly smile crossed her lips. She hung around, leaning on the door.

Stuart took the boxes of files and paper that needed to be shredded and slid them to one side. He printed out a flyer he had made earlier in the week. The image of that blonde was still swirling through his mind. Her eyes were bluish-green, a color he’d never seen before. It was enthralling; she was…intoxicating.

Lost in thought, he was interrupted by-

Knock, knock, a voice rang out. I saw you were open and I had to come over and say ‘hello’. Gertie said you were handsome. The woman speaking was perhaps fifty-five. She giggled like a young schoolgirl. He noticed she had another younger woman with her, and being polite, she introduced the inky black-haired girl.

My daughter, Andrea. Gertie motioned the child-like woman with the asymmetrical bob haircut. The older woman nearly pushed the young girl at him.

Ma’am, it’s really nice to meet both of you. I have so very much to do; I am not looking for a relationship, he said, attempting to cover anger. He’d been set up on blind dates by friends and family. Well, really, he only had his sister and father left.

The woman looked hurt.

I’m sorry, it’s a sore subject, he gave her a half-smile, realizing how harsh he had been.

Ah, I see. Well, welcome to our town. I’m Sally and I own the bookstore, she said, although her giddiness had all but disappeared.

Thanks, Sally. Nice to meet you too, Andrea. He touched her shoulder and it looked like a shock was sent through her. The meek girl quickly pulled her sleeves over her hands. She tugged the sleeves down repeatedly and shied away, turning her body.

I need to lock up and put up these flyers. May I escort you ladies out? That sent shrieking and giggles from Sally. Her bubbliness had returned. They left the station on foot.

Stuart had to return inside to retrieve his phone. He had left it on his desk. Walking back and checking it for messages he found nothing. He half hoped for something, for someone in his old life—anyone to miss him. He wasn’t paying attention to where he was going and he ran right into her.

I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking- his voice faded out mid-sentence.

I thought cops could sense people coming. She didn’t smile, but her eyes didn’t show any signs of animosity.

Ah-yeah, well, my spidey-sense must be off. He chuckled at his own joke.

I-uh, she looked down at the keys in her hand nervously. I went to get my check and Rod said you asked him to cut me a break; not complain about me. She looked up to meet his gaze.

Yes, and I am sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh at you at the store. I had seen you earlier in the day struggling with dogs here, he motioned to the street before them. It just seemed like you were having a tough day. He cocked his head with a goofy grin.

She was desperately trying not to smile and Stuart wondered why.

Yeah, well, I don’t need anyone’s pity. And I sure don’t need you to be asking my boss to cut me a break. She crossed her arms and looked past him, letting out a loud huff of air.

Stuart smiled. This woman was determined to be angry. Is this supposed to be an apology or did you come all this way to yell at me again? He asked, arching his eyebrow.

The blonde turned on her heels and left. Blonde ribbons of hair flowed behind her.

He quickly followed to keep pace. Wait. He tried to stop her and took her child-like tiny hand in his.

She glared at him and immediately pulled away, wrenching from his grasp.

Please-I’m Stuart. I-I- He stopped, as she looked at him expectantly. His mouth dried up and his speech escaped him. Before he realized it, she was driving away. He slapped his forehead. He thought to himself that he could jump in his car and follow her. What am I, a crazy lunatic? She’s a girl, a woman; you swore them off—remember, Stuart.

Setting up flyers around town, in different shops and stores—he decided that diner food sounded better then peanut butter and jelly. Trying to convince himself to spend the money he didn’t have; he needed to get to know these townspeople was the excuse he came up with.

Wiping his mouth, Stuart said, Jimmy, this is the best meal I’ve had in such a long time. Who knew a mortgage meant I’d have to eat a hell of a lot of sandwiches at home. Stuart finished the last bits of the gravy trailing his biscuit, being careful not to waste a drop.

He jotted down the diner number in case he felt like ordering during a shift. Jimmy’s prideful chest puffed and he grinned with Stuart’s compliments.

How much do I owe you? Stuart pulled out his wallet; opening it.

Are you kidding? Jimmy pressed his hand on the weathered old wallet to stop him. The Sheriffs’ money is no good here. Jimmy cleared the dishes from the counter.

A young girl at the end of the counter working shook her head, clearly annoyed her father was giving food away. Apparently, from her expression, it was nothing new. It was that same blonde. He couldn’t believe it.

Stuart’s heart swelled, and when no one was looking dropped a twenty on the counter.

Hey, Kelly, Jimmy called out. Can you give this to that customer who just left? Tell him it includes tips, he said, as the doorbell chimed.

Excuse me, a soft voice alerted Stuart someone was following him.

He turned to face the young, striking woman.

Oh, uh, Jimmy wanted me to return this to you. She held out the twenty; trying her hardest not to look at him.

It was a tip. Best food I’ve had in a long time. Stuart placed his hand on his head, eyeing the blonde sideways.

Thanks, she murmured.

Did you cook it? he asked, noticing her grease stained apron.

Don’t be so surprised, she said, placing her hands on her hips. An edge of anger crept in.

I’m not. It looks like you’ve found your talent.

His eyes glimmered, as she fluttered hers in response, diffused by his words.

Yeah, well, I’m forced. She deflected, shifting her stance.

Kelly turned and walked away, leaving the handsome man in uniform. Damn, why did he have to have that ‘I’m sexy as hell, but don’t know it, humble look’? Swallowing hard, she had a lump in her throat just thinking about him. His eyes were like Hershey’s kisses—melted and comforting. She internally scolded herself. She’d promised herself she would be a good girl like daddy thought she was, now that she moved back. She could remake herself. To be honest it wasn’t hard. She took on her prior persona: perfect, daddy’s girl.

Her father had stepped out of the diner and onto the street.

She was grateful that he’d interrupted devilish thoughts of this man in uniform.

Kelly, this food’s not goin’ to cook itself. Honey, I need you, he pleaded. Sheriff, Jimmy nodded and tipped his hat—despite not wearing one.

Stuart matched, returning this gesture. Sorry, my fault, I was holding up, Kelly? Is it? He smiled, finally capturing her name.

Coming dad, she sighed. Her entire body deflated in a full-on eye roll.

Nice to meet you, Kelly Stuart called after her.

Stuart heard the bell chime from Jimmy returning inside and once more spoke to Kelly. Sorry we got off to a rocky start, he turned and left. this time, but didn’t hear the chime of the door. He grinned knowing she was watching him. He had to remind himself he didn’t care and not to look back.

The rest of the day was exhausting. Despite the small size of the town they were an extremely chatty bunch. He was merely attempting to find a deputy. He was not used to the friendliness and was only beginning to realize it wasn’t an act. Coming from Boston, on top of being a police officer, he found it easy to be distrustful. His ex said his life must be pretty pathetic to always think the worst of people. He hoped this change of pace would help him change his outlook on the public.

I apologize in advance. I think I have met everyone today. He explained to the last group of extended family that trotted through the station. "So, if I forget your name, please