Jillian Spectre & the Dream Weaver Read online

  "That's what I need. Divine inspiration or any other kind."

  Roxanne explains the process and tells the client that sometimes the inspiration takes a few days. He asks a few simple questions, then lies back and focuses on her. I'm sitting on a chair next to her with the clipboard in my lap, though I won't be taking notes as it's just for show. She gives me a quick nod and I take her hand. She locks onto the guy as she did with me and after a few moments I can tell she's in his mind.

  I focus, sending energy into her body. I have no idea how long this will take.

  Five minutes later, she's still locked in and I'm feeling slightly drained. But I've still got plenty of juice, so I send a strong dose into her. Her reaction is noticeable. She sits up straight, eyes getting wider, but still locked with her client.

  Thirty seconds later she exhales, blinks several times and turns to me. "Damn, Jillian, what a rush!"

  "It worked?"

  "Oh, big time." She turns to the client and taps his hand. "Douglas? Douglas?"

  His eyes open wide and he smiles at her. "That was incredible! You gave me the entire plot! Every character, every plot twist, every funny line. You gave me a blockbuster!"

  "Seriously?" I ask.

  "Everything is clear as a bell. I need to get home and write this down immediately. Roxanne, I can't thank you enough." He takes her hands, his eyes welling up. "You just saved my career. I'm sure of it."

  "You saved your own career, Douglas. The story was already in your head. I just helped to get it out."

  "Whatever," he says. "Make sure you watch the Academy Awards in a couple of years. I'll be thanking you personally. Right now I gotta call my agent and start writing."

  The client is upbeat, a changed man as he shakes my hand and gives Rox a strong hug before leaving. As soon as he shuts the door she turns to me. "Jillian, that was amazing! The most incredible session I've ever had."

  "So what happened?"

  "Usually when I go into a writer's head there are all sorts of ideas bouncing around, like a bunch of ping pong balls in a lottery drawing. I try to put them in some sort of order and move the best ones to the front of the line. But this guy, oh, madonne, what a nightmare in his head. I've never seen such a convoluted mess of ideas, tangents going all over the place."

  "So what did you do?"

  "Usually with someone this screwed up it takes several sessions to simply weed out all the crap. But it was like I was working at warp speed, deleting the bad stuff and organizing the great ideas which had been buried by his depression. Jillian, he had the plot in his head and I put the whole thing together. I can even tell you what the movie will look like. It's absolutely brilliant."

  "That's never happened before?"

  “Are you kidding? Honey, you just raised my talent to the tenth power. When I was in his mind, I was in charge. Nothing could have stopped me. And now nothing will.”

  Chapter 16

  Fuzzball attaches the device that looks like a button to Jake's shirt. "Wow," says Jake. "I'm wired just like on television."

  "Don't lose it," says Fuzzball. "These things cost a small fortune." He hands Jake another tiny device. "This goes in your ear." Jake inserts the thing as the detective crosses the hotel room and puts on a headset.

  "What's the range on this?" asks Ryan, who is already equipped with the same stuff.

  "About a quarter mile," says Fuzzball. "Plenty for our purposes." He adjusts the microphone on the headset. "Can you guys hear me?"

  "Loud and clear," says Jake.

  "Perfect," says Ryan.

  "Okay, talk to me, and just whisper. Jake, you first."

  They finish testing the system and we're good to go.

  Fuzzball turns to Roxanne. "There's still time if you wanna change your mind."

  She shakes her head. "We're doing this. I'm the only one who can stop her."

  "She can also kill you," I say, grabbing her forearm.

  "Not with my human jumper cables next to me," she says, wrapping one arm around my shoulders.

  I turn to Jake. "You okay with all this? You've been awfully quiet."

  "You can't exactly stop Roxanne when she's made up her mind. And she does have a bit of a hero complex."

  "It's a heroine complex," says Rox. "And I'm damn proud of it."

  "Yeah," says Jake, "but you're not the one playing the role of cougar bait for Mrs. Robinson. Again."

  "Okay, we're good to go," says Fuzzball, setting his audio receiving equipment on a credenza next to three monitors. "And everyone remember, I'll be in the next room if anything goes south. So don't hesitate to call for help."

  "Cruise will be the one needing help," says Roxanne.

  Jake looks very dapper in his suit and tie as one of the two cameras Fuzzball picks up his arrival in the hotel ballroom. The reception for Senator Cruise is well attended, mostly with high rollers. The room is a sea of expensive suits and cocktail dresses. Bar waiters snake through the crowd carrying trays filled with champagne glasses. The Senator is working the rope line, shaking hands and smiling as she heads toward the podium.

  "Mike check, Ryan," says Fuzzball.

  "Testing one, two," says Ryan.

  "You're good. Jake?"

  "Cougar bait to red leader."

  "Very funny. You're loud and clear. Be careful, you two. I don't want anyone going rogue."

  "I think that's Roxanne's department," says Jake.

  "Very funny," says Rox.

  Roxanne and I are looking over Fuzzball's shoulders as he watches the two monitors providing a feed from the ballroom. The third screen features a static shot of Cruise's suite next door, which is currently unoccupied. "Here she comes, Jake," says the detective. "Headed right for you. About twenty feet away."

  Jake gets up on his toes and looks over the crowd. "I see her," he whispers. "Heading her way."

  Cruise has about a dozen hands to shake before she gets to Jake. I reach out, take Roxanne's hand and give it a squeeze. "You got yourself a brave young man out there."

  "Yeah. Pretty proud of the little guy. He'd take a bullet for me."

  "Join the club."

  "Okay," says Fuzzball, "here we go."

  The monitor shows Cruise's face lighting up as she spots Jake on the receiving line. She moves through the crowd, takes his hand, shakes it, and places her other hand on top, holding him in place. "Jake, how nice of you to come." Her voice is clear as a bell, picked up by his microphone. Jake, as instructed, gives her the deer in the headlights look.

  "I didn't get a chance to talk to you the last time," he says. "I was hoping we might get together later on. Y'know, so we could…talk."

  "Yes," she says. Cruise then leans forward and whispers in his ear. "Presidential Suite. Ten o'clock." She leans back and locks eyes with him. "Nice to see you again, Jake." He nods, she smiles and moves on.

  "You heard her, right?" asks Jake.

  "Copy that," says Fuzzball. "Ryan, whaddaya got?"

  The other monitor shows Ryan, wearing thick horn rimmed glasses and dressed as a waiter, following a few feet behind Cruise. "She's going to seduce him."

  "Just as we suspected," says Fuzzball.

  "One more thing," says Ryan.

  "What's that?"

  "Now don't freak out when I tell you this. Once she's done with Jake, she plans to take out Roxanne."

  We've all been quietly watching Cruise since she arrived in her suite at ten minutes till ten. She disappears into the bathroom for a moment carrying a hanging bag.

  "Guess she's slipping into something more comfortable," says Jake.

  "That conservative gray suit not turn you on?" asks Roxanne.

  "Only if you were the one wearing it."

  "Damn, you're good," says Ryan.

  "I'm betting a cheap miniskirt and stilettos," I say.

  "Nah," says Rox. "Bikini under a sheer negligee."

  Fuzzball rolls his eyes. "If you're done with the fashion competition, we need to focus."

  "We'
re just trying to lighten the mood," I say.

  "We can pop the champagne later," says the detective. "Or in your case, the Dr. Pepper." He points to the monitor. "Hey, here she comes."

  Cruise emerges from the bathroom in a short black leather skirt, matching thigh high boots and a tight gathered red top.

  "Skank," says Roxanne.

  I add "slut" for good measure.

  "Guess she forgot to pack the whip," says Jake.

  Fuzzball looks at his watch. "Okay, it's ten o'clock." He turns to Jake. "Off you go to see Mistress Rebecca. She doesn't look like the kind of woman who likes to be kept waiting."

  Jake turns and gives Roxanne a hug. "Be careful in there," he says.

  "Judging from her outfit, you're the one who needs to be careful."

  "Again, only if you were wearing it."

  We're all gathered around the monitor as we watch Cruise move toward the door to answer Jake's knock. Roxanne is riveted with her steel glare and a clenched jaw. Both hands are curled into fists. I gently take her forearm. "Stay calm, girl."

  "Sicilians don't have that chromosome," she says.

  Cruise answers the door and finds a smiling Jake whose jaw drops as he takes in her outfit. She pulls him into the room and hugs him.

  Ryan makes a sound like a hungry cat. "Rrrrrowwwwww."

  "She sure doesn't waste any time," says Fuzzball, reaching into his bag for some earplugs. He hands one pair to Ryan and keeps one in his hand. "Remember, if we have to go in there, these go in first."

  "Gotcha," says Ryan.

  Meanwhile, I'm dressed as a room service waitress, black wig, thick glasses, in a uniform borrowed from a hotel. There's also a bottle of champagne chilling in an ice bucket, sitting atop a small rolling cart along with a tray of chocolate dipped strawberries, the sight of which is making me lick my lips. (Hopefully we'll take down Cruise before she has a chance to eat those.) Fuzzball cranks up the audio on the monitor.

  "I'm sorry we didn't get to chat last time," says Cruise, running one long red fingernail inside his lapel. "You were such a good student and I've missed talking with you."

  "Same here," says Jake. "The teacher who replaced you isn't half as interesting. Or attractive."

  Roxanne grimaces at that. "Hey, it's in the script," I say.

  "I know. Still pisses me off to hear it."

  "Aren't you sweet," says Cruise. "And may I say you clean up pretty well yourself. You look terrific in a suit, young man."

  "Thank you, Ms. Cruise."

  "Oh, I think we've reached the point where you can call me Rebecca." Cruise takes Jake by the hand and leads him over to the love seat. She sits down and pats the cushion next to her. "So, activated your ID card yet?"

  Jake shakes his head. "Mine apparently got lost in the mail. I called the eight hundred number and they told me they would send a replacement immediately. So hopefully I'll get in the system in a couple of days."

  "Ah, good."

  "So, how's that program going?"

  "Very good so far. Firing on all cylinders." She reaches over and runs one hand lightly through his hair. "Though I could use an attractive young person to help with publicity. You know, to reach people your age. I could set it up with the school so you could get college credit. Spend the semester with me in Washington. You'd be the face of the program for your generation."

  Jake's eyes widen along with his smile. "Wow, seriously? That would be terrific. What would I have to do?"

  "I'll set the wheels in motion tomorrow. You could be in DC by next week." She slides a little closer on the couch. "Can I get you something to drink?"

  "Oh, I ordered something sent up," says Jake. "I didn't want to show up empty handed." He checks his watch. "It should be here any minute."

  "Well, aren't you a thoughtful young man."

  "That's your cue," says Fuzzball. "Go."

  "Good luck," says Ryan, giving me a kiss before hugging Roxanne. "We're seconds away if you need us."

  "Trust me, we won't," says Roxanne.

  I knock softly and say, "Room service," doing my best to disguise my voice.

  My heart is pounding as I hear footsteps move toward the door. Roxanne has her back pressed against the hallway wall so Cruise can't see her.

  The door opens and I'm face to face with Cruise. She doesn't even bother to study my face, obviously considering me one of the hotel servants. Instead she looks at the ice bucket and the berries. "Ah, champagne. And some other goodies. Do come in."

  "Thank you," I say, as I wheel the cart into the room. Jake makes eye contact as I move over toward the couch, with Cruise following me.

  "Jake, the strawberries are a nice touch. Thank you."

  "I read somewhere they were your favorite."

  "You read correctly. I'm an incurable chocoholic."

  I park the tray next to the couch, then take a receipt out of my pocket along with a pen and hand it to her. "Please sign."

  It's Roxanne's cue to enter the room.

  Cruise takes the ticket and the pen which I already know doesn't work since she needs to be distracted for a brief moment. I slide behind her as Roxanne tiptoes into the room. Cruise tries to sign the bill but the pen doesn't write, so she shakes it and scribbles it on the bill, trying to get the ink flowing. By now Roxanne is next to me and I take her hand.

  I send all the power I've got into her as Cruise turns to me. "This pen won't—"

  Her jaw drops as Roxanne locks onto her.

  She manages to get out one word. "Muse!"

  I expect the woman who once killed a muse to lick her chops. But she starts to back up, eyes wide with fear, as Roxanne moves toward her with me still holding her hand.

  Jake gets out of the way as Cruise backs into the couch, unable to say anything as she falls back onto it. Roxanne is laser-focused on her. The Senator's face begins to twitch, then her whole body starts shaking. She's unable to break Roxanne's hypnotic stare. Her jaw trembles and then she lets out a blood curdling scream.

  Rox doesn't react, doesn't let up. She leans over her, goes nose to nose.

  Cruise's eyes bug out, filled with terror. Her jaw trembles again. She opens it to scream.

  And nothing comes out.

  She tries again and is still silent. Cruise grabs her own throat as she realizes her worst fear.

  She's now a mute siren.

  And then she passes out.

  Roxanne blinks and her body relaxes. "It's done."

  I wrap my arms around her. "You did it. Thank God you're okay."

  "We did it," she says. "We flat out fried the bitch. Honestly, Jillian, once I got into her subconscious I realized she would have kicked my ass without your help. She was incredibly powerful. But her voice is gone and so are her powers as a siren."

  "For good?"

  "Yeah. Just like in the myth, though she also became deaf, which wasn't in the myth."

  "What about her powers as a dream weaver?"

  Roxanne shakes her head. "No clue. I was totally focused on her abilities as a siren. Anyway, we got a bonus."

  "What's that?"

  "While I was in her head, I found out what we need to pull the plug on the ID card program. Unfortunately it doesn't make any sense."

  "What doesn't make sense?"

  “Something about a football.”

  Chapter 17

  Fuzzball yanks open the connecting door to the hotel suite and waves us toward our room. "Get in here, fast!"

  "What?" I ask.

  "Security's coming. People heard her scream. Move! Now!"

  I hear the ding of the elevator, followed by quick footsteps. Roxanne, Jake and I dash into the adjoining room. Fuzzball grabs the room service cart, pulls it into our room, slams the connecting door shut and locks it. We all gather around the monitors.

  I place my hand on Roxanne's shoulder. "You feel okay? Any after effects?"

  She smiles at me. "You kidding? Never better."

  We see two large men in security uniforms rush into
the room. One moves quickly to the unconscious Senator, crouches down and takes her pulse. "She's alive," he says to the other guard. "Get the paramedics. Hurry."

  The other rent-a-cop keys his two-way radio. "Need medical assistance right now in the suite. It's Senator Cruise."

  Thirty minutes later Fuzzball returns from the suite. Cruise was taken out on a stretcher. "I didn't find anything in the room except her carry-on bag and her other outfit."

  "So you think her mother always told her to wear nice underwear in case she ended up in the hospital?" asks Roxanne, lightening the mood.

  "Not sure if a thong qualifies," I say.

  Ryan starts to laugh. "I just thought of something. Wonder what the emergency room people will think of her dominatrix getup?"

  "If the media gets there before her staff, she'll be on the front page of The Post," says Jake. "Can you imagine the headline?"

  "Gives new meaning to the term Senate Majority Whip," cracks Fuzzball. "Speaking of the media, I think I'll give a reporter friend of mine a head's up. I'm sure he'd love a sleazy lead story." Fuzzball whips out his cell phone and calls a reporter, giving him the details with a gleam in his eye. "Yeah. Everything but a whip and handcuffs." He smiles and hangs up, slipping his cell back into his pocket. "Okay, the lurid tales of Mistress Cruise are underway and will be required reading for all New Yorkers tomorrow." He turns to Roxanne. "And now that we're done with that, let's get back to our other problem. Tell me again what you saw regarding the ID program."

  "I didn't see anything physical, I just picked up that thought. That the football was somehow critical to the program. It's the on and off switch. I realize it doesn't make any sense but it was a very powerful thought."

  "You're right, it doesn't make sense," says Fuzzball.

  "Could be another one of my father's code words," I say.

  "But it's not biblical, like the other codes," says Ryan. "We'll figure it out eventually."

  "We'd better figure it out quick," says Jake. "We still don't know if Rox affected her powers as a dream weaver. We're not out of the woods yet. She'll probably retaliate if she still has the power."

  "True," says Fuzzball, "but she won't be taking out any more muses. And she won't be a very effective Senator without her ability to control the men in Congress and the media with her voice."