Chapter Six
Sheridan sat silently at Sam Bennett’s desk, holding
a cup of hot chocolate from the Book Cafe in her hands. Even though she hadn’t any trouble getting to sleep last
night, her sleep had been plagued by a nightmare. She had had that dream many times before after she had escaped
from Brian Watts. But it had been almost 2 years since her last one.
It was always the same. She was locked in a cold, dark place with no means of escape. She could feel the crawl
of tiny spiders and insects on her arms, her face, everywhere. A shudder rocked her body. She didn’t want to think
of it.
Luis found himself watching Sheridan across the room again. Last night, he heard sounds coming from her room that
indicated she was having anightmare. He couldn’t help but get out of bed and go to her room to wake her up.
He had stood in the doorway and called her name. She had woken up abruptly. He sat with her on the bed for most
of the night. They found themselves in a discussion of what happened all those years ago when she had been kidnapped.
Sheridan fell asleep before she could tell him how she had escaped.
A wave of over-protectiveness consumed him unexpectedly. She had gone through hell as a teen. He wanted to make
sure she didn’t have to constantly relive that experience. He would lay down his own life to protect her.
Luis was shocked at the strength of the emotion that coursed his body. He never expected to care about a Crane.
But she was not her family. She was...Sheridan. So far, she proved herself to be a decent individual.
When Agent Phillips arrived, Sheridan told her about the vision of the girl and the numbers 3 and 6.
"36 Oakmond Drive," Phillips responded. "That’s Rachel’s address in Pennsylvania. I think you definitely
saw Rachel. She didn’t speak, did she?"
"No. She was there one second and gone the next. No words."
"Agent Phillips," a man’s voice behind Sheridan said.
Agent Phillips turned. 2 people were standing there, a man and a woman.
"Ah. Mr. and Mrs. McHugh. So glad you got here so quickly."
Sheridan stood from her chair.
"This is Sheridan Crane. She’s the one I was talking about when we last spoke."
"Yes, Ms. Crane," the woman said, "It’s nice to meet you. I really hope that you can help us find
Rachel. Tears filled the woman’s eyes as she fumbled in her purse for a tissue. She found one and dabbed her eyes
with it.
Everyone was quiet as she tried to collect herself. Sheridan felt like she was going to cry, too. She hadn’t wanted
to do this because of the pain in her past. But now, as she saw the anguish in the eyes of Rachel’s mother, she
was determined to find the missing girl, or die trying.
Rachel’s father said, "We’ve got the things that you wanted us to bring.." In his hand was a large brown
paper bag.
"Good. Why don’t we go into the interrogation room Sheridan, Officer Lopez-Fitzgerald, will you join us?"
They all followed Agent Phillips into the room Sam Bennett was already there with two FBI agents.
Luis was curious to know what was in the bag. Sheridan looked as though she already knew. Mr. McHugh reached in
and pulled out a small china doll, a white blouse and a school notebook.
"These are several of her favorite possessions," Mr. McHugh said with a sigh.
Sheridan did what she had done dozens of times before during her "research" for the CIA. She sat down
with the objects on the table before her. Hesitantly, she picked the china doll up.
What Sheridan and others had observed before, holding certain objects that the victims owned was very effective
in connecting the owner with the psychic. It was as if a part of their spirits were in that object and only a
person with a gift such as Sheridan’s could tap into.
"Gift?" Sheridan asked herself silently. "Sometimes this gift is more of a curse. But I’ll force
it to be a gift right now."
She held the china doll in her hands and closed her eyes. An image of a christening flashed in her mind. Mr. and
Mrs. McHugh were there, looking down at their child. Sheridan could see the pride and love in their eyes. She smiled.
The image changed to a living or family room. Mrs. McHugh was sitting on a couch, holding the baby in her arms.
Mr. McHugh was standing in front of her, his arm around an older man. In that man’s hand was a beautiful china
doll.
"Her godfather gave her this doll. On the day of her christening." Sheridan told them.
"Yes," Mrs. McHugh said in a shaky voice, "But do you see anything else? Like where she is or how
she’s doing?"
Sheridan sighed and shook her head. She tried again, but nothing else came. She slowly put the doll down and pinched
the bridge of her nose. She had a headache. There was a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. This was going
to take a while. |
