The story so far:
The wind howled through the trees, as I pulled up to the substation. I had way too many thoughts running through my head. Why was Paige in that broadcast? Who was this Esperanza? How did she know Franco? I only scared myself thinking of the mess, and had to get some answers. As I entered the dull grey building, it was quiet. This part of town wasn't as wild as downtown vegas or the infamous strip. A few officers moved about, and walked up to the front desk.
"I need to speak to the lead detective on the comkiller case. I have some information he might find useful. I said, as my heart pounded in my chest, and my voice was weak.
"Of course. That would be Detective Williams. Follow me" He stood up, and lead me to an office. I walked in first, and he stopped at the door.
"He'll be here in a minute. He is coming down from the 2nd floor."
"Thank you." I sighed deeply, and tried to ease my fears. He left the room, shutting the door.
The room was sparse, and very grim. Papers were disorganized on top of a file cabinet. Books out of place, next to a jumbled shelf. The desk was neat. A placard in front of the desk read Laurence Williams. Open files were spread across the writing mat. A cigarette was in ash from a nearby tray. My eyes widened as I saw a knife inside an evidence bag. It was next to a picture of Nona. A picture next to it seemingly appeared to be her sister. I glanced back at the knife. Strangely ritualistic, yet simple in design. I leaned forward to examine it, and unknowingly began to reach for it. A hand came from nowhere, grabbing my wrist tightly, and I cried out.
"I wouldn't touch that if I were you. It doesn't belong to you!" The raspy voice said from behind me. My skin shook, and my stomach went into my throat.
I fought to break away from the grasp on my wrist, and only yelped in pain, as the man squeezed harder. My head turned to see the man, and I caught a vicious bachand to the side of my face. I fell from the chair, into the desk, knocking the lone lamp over. It wobbled around on the desk, making the room go in and out of darkness. My face burned as I sobbed in fear. The man reached over, and grabbed the bag, taking the knife out, and staring at me. I tried to make out his face. He pinned me down with his knee into my gut, and I tried to fight him off with slaps and punchs. His face pursed up, and I could hear his teeth grit together with rage.
"Thou shall honor thy Father!" He yelled, as he thrusted the knife towards my chest.
All I saw was his cold blue eyes, as the lamp caught his face for a brief second. I screamed as the knife came forward, and I desperately put my arm up to block the attack.
Franco shook me, and my scream was broken from my nightmare. I fell back against the bed, chest heaving, dripping from sweat, head to toe. My tanktop stuck to my breasts like a second skin, and my hair was tossed around my reddened cheeks like a mop.
"Adara! Jesus Christ! Are you okay?!" Franco's lip quivered, as he moved my hair away from eyes. "Baby? You're scaring me."
"I... I don't even know..." I trembled like a leaf, the tears poured down from my face. "I can't f**king take this anymore. These visions. This fear..."
Suddenly, I jumped out of bed. "Oh my God. Paige!"
I gasped, fumbling for my robe. There was a knock on the door. I muffled a cry, and Franco tensed up. Paige poked her head into the room.
"Mom, are you okay? I heard a scream." Paige tried to sound calm, as her eyes watered.
"Come here, baby" I reached out, and Paige tackled me with a very powerful hug.
"I don't know what's going on, but I will make some coffee." Franco put his robe on. "It's gonna be a long night."
I woke up in Paige's bed. She wasn't there. I got to my feet, and tried to shake off my fatigue. The night was very rough, and seemed like endless tears. My dream seemed so real, yet not so much a vision. And now paige. Her just now opening up to the terrifying world I have so longed to be able to kill. I tightened my robe and headed downstairs to the kitchen. The smell of coffee and breakfast was a pleasant suprise.
Franco and Paige were talking by the table as I walked in.
"I have your eggs coming next, babe" He kissed me, and turned to the stove. I sat down and poured a cup of coffee. Paige was dressed, and looked relaxed.
"Last night was pretty intense, huh? Paige smiled briefly at me, and brushed her hair out of her face. "I don't know who's dreams were worse."
"About that... we should probably sit down and discuss those dreams."
"Well, Franco said I could hang out with him at the restaurant until you finish up today, so that I don't get in the way."
"I can clear away most of my schedule today, honey" I sipped my coffee. "I should be able to get you by lunchtime."
"Sounds good." Franco chimed in, as he set down my food. "Then you ladies can have lunch with me. Now I am gonna go get ready for work."
Franco kissed my forehead and messed up Paiges hair, walking off as she slugged him.
"Mom.. I'm scared about that dream. And yours. What's happening?"
"It's okay, Paige." I lied politely through my worried eyes. "We will figure it out together, later. I promise."
She grabbed me, and hugged me tightly. She let out deep breaths, and my heart sank. Why is this happening, indeed.
I drove to the office. I stiffled a yawn as the day seemed bleak, and my mind raced. I parked and got out of my car. I walked by Mertha's desk, and she stopped me as she came by from watering a plant.
"You have an unexpected appointment, Mrs.Davis" She looked concerned. "He is in your office."
I moved towards my door. "I don't do things that way. Mertha, you know this. Who is it?"
The door opened, before my hand grasped the handle. I spun around, and a man stood there. Suit and coat. Holding files and a briefcase.
"Larry Williams" He reached out his hand, and I almost choked. "LVPD. Homicide."
"Le..let's talk inside" I shivered, and walked with him into my office. I closed the door about ninety percent, and looked at Mertha. She sat down at her desk, and began filing.
"I need to speak to you about an urgent matter, Mrs Davis."
"I understand, detective." I sat down, and rubbed my face. "What can I do to help?"
"Do you know this man?" Larry slid a picture in front of me.
"Miguel Sanchez. I am familiar with the name, yes"
"He killed a girl. Nona Flores. And now he's dead. Killed in prison. Details are sketchy."
I tried to remain calm. "What can I do?"
"This is where things get foggy." He put another picture in front of me, and I cried out, softly. My skin crawled, and my head began to swim.
"This man is Father..."
"P-Preston" I barely spoke. Tears welled up.
"Yes. We believe he may know who killed Sanchez." Larry spoke dry words.
"How would he be connected with all of this?" I looked at the man in front of me. My vision blurring my vision.
"Sanchez was the father of Nona's baby. And I believe that the comkiller is related to, or working with Father Preston."
I knocked over my cup of coffee, jerking back.
"Nona was pregnant?"
"Even worse. She used to attend a cathedral the Father oversaw in San Diego a few years ago. With his would be adopted son. That is who I think killed Sanchez.
"Well the one detail in sanchez's cell that seemed connecting was a piece of cardboard crudely tied around his neck. It had writing on it. HONOR THY FATHER.