Old Dreams: The Tangled Dreams Series, #3

By Brooke Brennan

Book Three

What was the point of having psychic abilities if they could not save your life?

Was someone trying to kill Liza Diamond? Why were her visions and dreams happy, joyful, and loving?

In the small New Hampshire town old sins cast long shadows.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joanne Reid
• Release date: Jul 26, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386749561

Brooke Brennan

Brooke Brennan writes about paranormal ways of seeing things. 

Book preview

1

Tillie Jordan sat in her son’s bedroom and looked at the walls. The paint was shabby and smudged with the remnants of the tape he had used to hang his posters when he was a boy. There was nothing left in the room that indicated any personality. Over the years since Dan had moved out of the house he had taken his belongings, mementos, and clothes piece by piece to his apartment downtown. Now that he was in prison, the apartment was gone. There was no point in keeping it. Dan would be in jail for thirty years.

Within weeks after Dan went to prison, Tillie had packed up her son’s apartment and hired a couple of local moving guys to haul his personal items back to the farm house. The furniture and most of the cardboard boxes full of his personal items were stored in the back of the shed. He didn’t have much and that brought tears to Tillie's eyes. Dan would be an old man when he got out of prison and she would likely be dead.

He had a month to month lease arrangement so it was not difficult to end the lease. Tillie was not surprised that Dan had not made more of a commitment to his apartment. He always had dreams of moving out of Walkersville and now the only move he had made was an hour’s drive away to the state prison in Concord. After that, he could come back here and all his stuff would be safe.

When Tillie thought about Dan being an old man and moving back home, her mind began to run through the possibilities of what would happen to the house if she died before he was free again. Tillie could not continue with this line of thought. She had to force herself to clear her mind.

She got up and moved to the kitchen. It gleamed in the morning sun. Her tea was already poured into a china cup. She sat at the kitchen table and stirred sugar into her tea. She thought she had already added sugar to this cup of tea but she didn’t care. It was only going to go cold. Dan had been in and out of the house since he graduated from high school so she was used to having lots of time alone. Those periods were usually punctuated by visits from Dan and that made a difference.

In the corner of the big kitchen, there were boxes of books and papers and bags of clothes that she had chosen to take into the house. Some boxes had made it to the front hallway. Tillie’s plan had been to put these things neatly into Dan’s bedroom. It would make it looked lived in and that would give her the impression that Dan could be back anytime.

The tea did get cold as Tillie tried to reconstruct the murder that Dan was serving time for. It just didn't make any sense. Dan had been obsessed with that Coffin girl ever since he was a little boy and Melissa Carriere was going to write a book about Elizabeth Coffin's return to Walkersville after everyone thought she was dead.

And for that Dan killed her? It didn’t make sense to Tillie. Even if it had been a spur of the moment thing, violence was not Dan's approach to life. He had never been an athletic person and his passivity used to frustrate her. She tried to remember if she had ever nagged him to stand up for himself more. That made her think about Amanda Walker and how her father had fired Dan from his job at the paper. Dan did not protest. He just meekly walked away.

Tillie felt the tears running down her face before she realized she was crying. She had raised Dan on her own and he was her only family. He had been all she needed. The fact that he was more like his father than he was like her had always given her a feeling that the universe had a great sense of humor. Dan looked like Tillie’s brother who had died young but he acted exactly like his father did. A dreamer, a thinker, a loner. She had always known that she had done the right thing not marrying Dan’s father. She would have had to raise both of them. She made a definite decision to focus on raising Dan to be the man his father never could be.

Her mother had accepted Tillie and her baby into the old farmhouse where Tillie had grown up. In the thirty years since then, Walkersville had sprawled out in small subdivisions and the farmhouse was not so isolated as it had been but it was still far enough from any neighbors that Tillie felt alone in the big old house. It was too much for her to handle on her own.

Tillie wiped the tears from her cheeks and took a deep breath. She should think about selling the place. She could move into downtown Walkersville. All she needed was a small apartment. She thought about Dan’s apartment. If she had been thinking properly, she could have just kept it. A little scrubbing and cleaning and some of her better furniture would make it a decent place to live.

What would she do with Dan’s stuff she had stored in the shed?

2

Four months had gone by since Dan had been whisked off to prison. It may have taken more time than it seemed but after his confession, it seemed to Liza that that twenty-four hours later he was behind bars. She had been numb throughout the whole procedure.

She focused on going through the motions of getting her parents settled into the new house with her and seeing William and his entourage leave for Maine. In the back of her mind, she knew that the bullet that killed Melissa Carriere had been meant for her. She also knew that Dan would not have wanted to kill her.

These warring pieces of knowledge turned her mind numb. Liza had spent the entire summer without one single dream or one single visual interruption. Her instincts told her that something was wrong with Dan’s confession. It had all been too easy.

His motive was weak to the point of being nonsensical. Anyone with half a brain could tell that Melissa was too scatterbrained to ever finish a book in the first place. In the second place, Dan would have had the edge in writing such a book which would not have been much of a story. A murder over something so ridiculous just did not make any logical sense.

And at that thought, her brain cycled back to its certainty that the person who killed Melissa did not intend to kill Melissa. She was in her car, in the cemetery, looking at the birch grove, willing her vision to shatter and give her some insight. For years, she fought against her insights and now that she needed one, they would not come to her.

The thought crossed her mind that she was taking a risk being in the spot with her car where Melissa had been killed – also with Liza’s car. She was asking for trouble. If the killer had attacked here once, it was a good chance the person would try a second time in the second place.

This had motivated Liza to drive to the cemetery alone. The fear factor alone should have forced her mind to open up and provide insight.

Liza knew she had to get a grip on her life again. There was far too much going on in her head. She had been intensely worried about her mother, fearing Thomas, and annoyed at Todd when the Dan bombshell exploded. Things were better now that her parents were settling into the new house. Betty was thriving. Jim was relaxed. Mabel was pleasant enough. She had her own room in the house and the full run of the trailer.

The trailer was in such poor shape that Liza wanted her to have a nice place to stay. She needed to come up with a plan to repair or replace the old trailer. She and Thomas had been spending more and more time together although they had not yet moved beyond chaste goodnight kisses on the front porch.

Chief Ken Peters had investigated Dan’s confession. Dan had gone to court and allocuted. Then he was escorted to prison. Liza had no chance to speak to him. She turned her car around and drove away from the cemetery.

On the drive home, Liza looked at the trailer as she passed by it and made a mental note to do something to fix up the place soon. She let her mind roam to the day she took her mother to see the house. She and Jim had agreed to leave the final decision to Betty about whether she wanted to spend her first night out of the hospital at the trailer or the new house.

It had been a sunny June day. As she pulled into the driveway, Liza had wondered if her mother was strong enough to make the walk to the house. She didn’t want to tire her out and Betty was looking frail and fragile for a woman her size. Liza was aware that the last ten years had aged her mother a lot more than a mere ten years. She had always thought of her mother as a tower of strength, durable and sturdy.

It’s a lovely area, Betty said. She looked at the house with a look on her face that seemed to be more puzzlement than anything else.

Is something wrong, Mom?

Betty shook her head and smiled, I was just thinking that Mabel and I came here to clean this house before you bought it and I had no idea that I would be here thinking about moving into it.

I need your help to pick out the paint. We’ll have it painted. Liza did not know what to say. This was a difficult situation to be in where the woman who gave her life and loved her had been put through hell by Liza’s selfishness. She had been traumatized but she knew that her mother had also suffered. Liza had to squeeze her eyes shut to keep back the tears.

That’s good. It sure needed a lick of paint. Betty made it sound like a real conversation rather than the camouflage for emotions that it really was. Then Betty cleared her throat and Liza had a strong memory of this habit of her mother. If she had something serious to say, she cleared her throat. It was a prelude to a lecture, a demand, and question that needed a good honest answer. Liza waited, fearing the words that would come next.

I suppose you’re thinking of marrying Thomas, are you?

Liza was surprised. This was not what she expected to hear and she was not prepared with any answer at all. She said, The subject hasn’t come up.

But it will. Betty said it as a matter of fact.

Liza realized that this was the only way to begin making amends for hurting her mother. She had to open up and be honest with her. She had to be as trusting of her mother and as respectful to her mother as she had been when she was a tiny child.

She said, I know that ten years ago you were really against the idea of me being involved with Thomas in any way, shape, or form. As she spoke, Liza was weighing her words. The new way of communicating with the ones she loved involved being honest and open. She was also very aware of the difference between being honest and open and being cruel.

Betty laid her hand over Liza’s and said, I’m sorry. I am really sorry. I mean I even let you think that the old man was your father. That was just cruel but I didn’t know how else to force you to stop seeing Thomas. All the time you were gone, I kept thinking about that, about how I drove you away and God’s punishment was that you were killed.

Liza nodded and gulped. She didn’t have the courage or the words to respond. In her entire life, her mother had never been open about her feelings about anything or anyone. This afternoon Betty was on a roll and she kept on talking. I hated him. I just hated that old man and I didn’t want you in that family because if there is anything at all that bastard could do to destroy you he would do it.

A chill went up Liza’s spine. She couldn’t believe that her mother knew how evil the old man was. She blurted out, But why? What did I ever do to deserve that from him? As she spoke, she had an insight that for her was startling. How did her mother know enough about the old man to hate him so much?

You did know him way back when? Liza asked, not quite sure how to word the question but she had to ask it anyway.

When I was a young woman, I knew him. I worked there once but not for very long. Betty was silent for a moment and then she turned to Liza and said, He had the loveliest wife. She was way too good for him and he was cheating on her all the time.

"Is that why you hated him? Liza asked this when her mother stopped talking and Liza wanted her to keep on talking about Thomas’s father. If she asked a direct question, it might keep her going on with the story. She wondered if Jim had told Betty about Matthew and the rape.

When Betty didn’t answer, Liza took a deep breath. There’s something that Thomas and I did that I need to tell you about.

What? Betty’s voice was almost a squeak.

We had DNA tests done. She blurted it out.

What?

We wondered why both you and his father were so set against us getting married...and well, I wondered, you know, if perhaps the old man had forced himself on you or something like that.

He never did no such thing.

We know that now. We’re not related at all, Thomas and me. But I want to keep no secrets from you anymore ever, Mom.

Betty felt the shame of her old ruse wash over her. There was no way she could ever tell her daughter that the old man hated her because Betty had tried to trick him into paying for her child.

She was uncomfortable even thinking about that period of time. She realized as she thought about why the old man hated her and by extension, her daughter, it was not because he thought he was being tricked into thinking he had got Betty pregnant. It was because he thought he had gotten her pregnant. He turned on Betty at the time but she never told him he wasn’t the father of her baby.

Betty hated the old man because she hated herself for being so weak that she let him touch her, just for money. Not even money. The hope of money. It was even more shameful to remember that than it was to remember being raped by the maniac who had fathered her baby. She needed to change this line of thought in her head or she would explode.

You should marry Thomas. The old man is dead now. He can’t hurt you.

But why did he ever want to?

Why did he want to hurt Emily? But he did. It’s like he has this urge to destroy anything good and nice. She was a good wife to him. Much better than he deserved.

How did he hurt Emily? Liza suddenly wondered about Thomas’ mother’s early death. He didn’t kill her, did he? Or abuse her?

Betty shook her head. He was a very sick miserable rotten man. He married her for her money. I know that. I have no idea why she ever married him. She spat out each word as if it were poison in her mouth. I’m glad he’s dead. Dead and gone. He can’t hurt anyone anymore.

Betty said, Thomas might not be a bad person. The old man wasn’t the only parent he had. His mother was a lovely woman. Emily. Betty almost whispered the name. She looked straight out the front window of the car but Liza knew that she wasn’t looking at the house, she was looking into the deep dark secrets of her past. In a louder voice, Betty said, Did I tell you how she helped me out when I was pregnant with you?

Liza could hardly breathe. Betty never talked about that part of her life. If Liza could become invisible maybe Betty would forget she was there and maybe she would keep on talking and reveal some tiny clue as to who her father was. Liza didn’t speak. She barely breathed.

"I was so glad to have you. My darling dearest baby girl. You’ve been the biggest blessing of my life but when I got pregnant I didn’t really know what to do. I wanted so much for you and I had so little to give. I was afraid they would even take you away from me because I was a single woman and I had no money and no job. I was so scared. Emily found a place for me to go when