Mocha, evening, Gracie and Larry.
"You look tired, hun," Larry said spotting Gracie in the Mocha. he had a soft spot for the nurses at the hospital who covered the edgier wards, and she was one of the nicer and more approachable ones. "They been working you too hard?"
Grace looked up as Larry spoke. She gave him a small smile, having spoken to him a few times before and enjoyed his company, and conversation. She sat up straighter and nodded. "Something like that." Her smiled turned into a little bit of a smirk before she motioned to the empty seat across from her. "Want to join me?" She arched an eyebrow before lifting her coffee mug to take a sip.
"Sure." Larry grinned and sat down squaring his coffee and junk-food-filled plate in front of him. The Mocha, pretty lady, hot food - ah, civilisation. "So, you looking forward to Halloween?" he asked.
He had been at the Manor for over ten years and knew enough about her moods to be expecting something at the end of the month.
Grace let out a snort of laughter. "You know, for once, I actually am looking forward to it," She admitted as she put her mug down. "This is the first year in the City that I won't be working graveyard, or at all, on Halloween," She let out a relieved sigh. "You have no idea of the crazies that turn up on those days in an emergency room..." She shook her head. "How 'bout you?"
"I get off at midnight," Larry said. "At least that's the theory. In practice it's usually later." He chuckled. "Still I can live in hope and the thing I hope is that I'll be back home and sipping a small mellow Scotch by one am. No ball this year - just as well after what happened last."
Grace nodded as she listened. "Yeah, no ball - of course it's the year I have off that there's no ball," she smirked. She'd been to the last one, a month ago, though at least. She arched an eyebrow though. "You mean with the elevators?" Grace had moved in after that fiasco and had to do without the elevator at that. She'd only heard stories about what happened though, mostly from eavesdropping.
"Yeah, bad business," Larry said. "We were so lucky not to lose anyone. That in part was due to a kid raising the alarm. How she knew to I have no idea - guess she must be psychic. Thank God she was because the staff had time to get people out with the help of the tenants." He smiled at her. "Yeah - I'm a cop and I believe in the supernatural. I've seen too much sh- stuff - over the years not to."
Grace shifted in her seat a little nervously. She looked down at her mug and gave it a small tight lipped grin. She nodded a little. She hesitated a moment and glanced at Larry. "I'm not a skeptic," she admitted. "I haven't experienced too much here, yet." Some dreams here and there, until she'd stumbled upon Gilly Madsen's recurring nightmare.
Larry looked at her with sympathy. "Some people never do, you know? Or if they do it's nothing much. Like the library - dunno if you've seen that librarian in the beehive? She just never stopped doing her job. Most people see her, most never notice that she occasionally walks through a chair."
Grace let out a short snort of laughter. "Lucky them." She took a sip of her mug and then shook her head. "I must confess I've never been to the library. In the building I mean." She sat up a little straighter and put her mug down. "I have, however..." She hesitated. He said he believed supernatural things, so that meant he wouldn't just laugh to her face if she told him, would it? She took a deep breath. "I've seen her dreams," She said nervously, lifting her eyes to look at Larry. "Gilly Madsen? The girl you were talking about earlier, who sounded the alarm last Halloween?" She arched her eyebrows.
"Her dreams?" Larry's eyebrows arched too. Or more moved up, their bushiness wrinkling his forehead. A man who had survived the 13th floor wasn't going to quibble at a little thing like a shared dream but she looked like she expected derision. Slowly he nodded. "I see ghosts," he said, "but most of them are just sad. Wouldn't want to share the Madsen girl's dreams. I bet those are doozies. Poor kid's had enough bad luck in her life to make every one a night mare. Just hers or anyone else's?"
Grace grimaced a little and glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot really. The last thing she needed was someone thinking she was crazy. She nodded. "...They pretty much are nightmares." Every time too. Grace wouldn't be able to live that way. Her cheeks turned a little red at his question. "No, others too." She confessed. "Not purposefully." She added. "...Gilly's led me to the hospital." She cleared her throat. "Hunter Lockwood, he's still there. He's been in a coma since the Andover shooting...when Gilly hit him with a fire extinguisher," she almost grimaced some and shook her head a little. "At first, I thought it was her guilt causing the dreams..." She trailed off there and turned her eyes toward Larry again, still hesitant.
"Lockwood? But he's in a coma, right?" Larry said. Hunter Lockwood surely wouldn't be dreaming. If he was Larry didn't dare imagine what they would be like and wouldn't have shared one for a gold clock.
Grace frowned and hesitated a moment."I thought she was dreaming about him getting revenge out of guilt, but I was wrong. He's putting himself in her dreams whenever she goes to sleep..." she paused, nervous about openly discussing this with someone, something she never did. "That's not all I found out..." He was a cop, and maybe he'd know what she could do to help without being laughed at because of skeptics.
Lary was still reeling a bit mentally at the thought of the coma-kid being able to join Gilly in dreamland but he snapped himself out of it and gave Gracie a sympathetic smile. "You can tell me," he said. "No - honest. Cross my heart," he suited action to words. "Can't promise I can be any help but I'll do my best."
Grace's forehead creased a little. This was new for her, sharing this stuff. The fact that he was receptive at all was kind of amazing. She picked at the napkin again. "There was a man. Standing over Lockwood," she explained. "He wasn't in Hunter's dream. I don't know how I know that. But..." She looked at Larry. "I don't know exactly what he was doing there but..." She paused and bit lightly into her bottom lip.
"So, someone bending over Lockwood," Larry said. "And from the sound of it he either shouldn't have been there or didn't want to be there. Is that all he did?"
Grace shook her head. Her forehead creased as she tried to think of a good way to make it make sense to someone who wasn't her. "It was all jumbled. He reached for a pillow," She looked at Larry. "Like he was going to use it to suffocate Hunter," She hesitated. "Told him some stuff which is mostly garbled in Hunter's dream, about being stuck in his coma dreams forever..."
Larry sighed. "Could be wishing - Hunter wishing someone would end it for him?" He gave a shiver. "Got to pity the kid if there is anything going on up here." He tapped his forehead. "That's a real nightmare."
Grace shook her head. She did pity Hunter, even though she was well aware of the atrocious things he'd done. "No, it's...hard to explain," She paused and tried to think of another coherent way to explain it. "I...think he's more conscious than we're aware. I think he knows I'm there too." She knew that, actually. "And he keeps replaying it. The man leaning over him, the dialogue's a little choppy but the point is...I think someone tried to kill him, or wanted to but backed out for some reason. Like he stumbled upon Hunter by accident and was going to do something about it, spewing all kinds of angry remarks, reaching for the pillow and then...deciding that living life in a coma would be better torture," Her cheeks reddened a little as she stopped her ramble. "And you...probably think I'm crazy by now," She nodded.
"Gah, no not you," Larry shook his head reassuringly. "But if that really did happen - if someone was in Lockwood's room considering killing him - I'd like to know who it was. He might come back and have another go." As he said it, something in the back of Larry's mind reminded him that there WAS someone killing teenagers who still had to be found - but the MO was completely different.
All the same it was worth a try.
"Do you get a clear shot of this guy's face when you're - dreaming, sharing? Whatever you call it?" he asked. "Because, if so, we could maybe get a portrait drawn." Larry watched her consider then nod slowly and he smiled. "Okay, if you've got time now, I know someone I can call. Don't worry," he added. "He's weirder than we are." And he took his phone from his pocket to make the call.
~~~
Later
Charlie leaned a bit closer to Gracie tilting his pad, pencil moving busily. He had the eyes right - the most important bit - and now was fiiling in the details. He glanced at Gracie frequently, not proceeding until she nodded or made a suggestion. Already there was a personality there - a real person not just a caricature. A few extra strokes to emphasise the deep lines around the mouth, a jagged sweep of lines across the crown to indicate a rumpled comb-over and he thought he was probably done. "Is that a likeness?" he asked.
Gracie had her eyes closed while she described most of the man in Hunter's dream. She'd open them to look at the drawing and nod or give him an adjustment if needed. She was pretty nervous about all of this. She didn't know how it could help, especially since she hadn't wanted two people to know what she could do, let alone the idea that they were trying to get a sketch of the guy to pass around. How were they going to present this? Grace looked at the final product once Charlie turned it to her. She looked it over and took a moment even though she could have nodded right away. "Yeah..." she said quietly. "That's him." She answered.
"So," Charlie said, "a sad and angry man in his - what do you think? Forties maybe, with his hair combed over and a lot of hate in his eyes."
Larry said, "Thanks Charlie, I'll leave the pad with Jerry in the mailroom."
"No problem," Charlie said and shot a bright and curious smile at Gracie as he passed her the pad. "I hope it's what you wanted. See you both around."
"Thanks kid," Larry said and waited until he had walked away before saying, "So - is that the man you saw in the dream?"
Grace gave Charlie a small smile and thanked him as she nodded. She looked at Larry and then nodded again. "Yes," She answered. "That's him."
"May I?" Larry said and took the pad from her with a word of thanks. He turned it and looked at it, frowning. "But this ...." his voice died away. "I know this man," he said. "Oh shit - I know him."
Grace had handed over the pad and watched him for his reaction. She arched her eyebrows and glanced at the pad again. "You do?"
"Fuck yes," Larry said, then apologised. "I'm sorry, miss, bit of a shock. I - er - I do know him. He's someone I considered a friend. I - er - guess I better hadn't say any more 'til I check this out. God," he sighed. "Thank you so much for doing this. I need to look into it - NOW."
He got up, closing the pad to hide the drawn face. "I have to go. Thanks again."
Grace was more than a bit bewildered but she just nodded. "You're welcome..." she said, a little unsure. She nodded once more. "I hope it helps." She said. He seemed like he was in a huge hurry to get on out of there.
"I - um - I'm sorry, Gracie, I have to go," Larry confirmed, an uneasy chill in the pit of his stomach. He touched her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "This is - brilliant. it can't have been easy for you. Thanks. I'll be in touch."
Grace waved her hand. "Not at all. You're welcome. Let me know later what happened?" She asked, maybe a little hopeful for some closure herself.
"I promise," Larry said and smiled, his eyes warming. "You done great. Now I have to hustle. See ya on the bright side, Gracie." And he headed for the door.
First stop the hospital - he was sure the guys there would let him see the security tapes, then if he was right he'd really need to get the word out.
With thanks to Ceil for writing Gracie and her mind-powers!