The little girl had long brown hair and big eyes. Her nose was small and feminine�the kind of nose that women got plastic surgery to even slightly resemble. She was a very pretty little girl that could grow up to be a very beautiful young woman.
And Sheridan recognized her. She turned and she said Sheridan�s name, like every night, and something in Sheridan�s mind clicked. She knew this girl. She knew the window behind her; she knew the attic around her. Even more pleasing was that the dream had got this far, because never before had Sheridan been able to make out the little girl�s features. It was such an exciting moment that it woke Sheridan up.
She sat upright abruptly in an unfamiliar bed, glanced around in a moment�s confusion, remembered that she had rented a hotel room, and fell back against pillows that were just a tad too flat for her liking. It was definitely a low-budget motel�in fact, the name was the Budget Inn. A bunch of rooms were side-by-side in the shape of an unfinished square, and the main office was just off a little to the left. The room cost her exactly twenty dollars. It looked like something you would see in a horror movie, where the main character gets slashed to bits by the hotel owner.
The thought gave Sheridan goose bumps. She glanced over to make sure the door to her room was locked, and checked the time.
6:00 AM.
Always 6:00 AM.
Since she had managed to sufficiently scare the wits out of herself, she threw the covers aside and reached for the telephone. She would call Hank and have him meet her there, since he was the only one she could seem to count on in Harmony. Anyway, the Budget Inn was fifteen minutes out of Harmony, and so run-down and just plain ugly that no person, no paparazzo would ever suspect that she would get a room there. She had even used a fake name to book the room for the night.
Hank picked up on the second ring and agreed to meet her there. Satisfied, a little bit calmer after having spoken to him, Sheridan wrapped herself in a robe and went to wait outside on the only bench.
Ten minutes later, about five different cars pulled up to the Budget Inn and what seemed to be a thousand people poured out, snapping her picture.
She was frustrated�she was furious. She held back the urge to flip them off and ran into her room, throwing her stuff into a suitcase and changing into black slacks and a glitzy black top. Within five minutes, she was in her car, waiting for Hank to show up�and he did, within ten.
He walked around to the passenger�s side and climbed inside, looking bewildered. �What is going on?� was the first thing he asked, not bothering to greet her.
She shook her head, starting the engine. �I don�t know how the hell they found out I was here. I really don�t.� She had to drive at an incredibly slow rate to get out of the parking lot due to the overcrowding, and she was sure she would look just as annoyed as she felt in the tabloids the next morning.
�This is just great,� she went on, fuming. �Here you are with me, again. At a low-budget motel. Do you even know the kind of stories they are going to come up with?� She glanced over, looking apologetic�which was a huge step for Sheridan Crane, who never felt bad for anyone but herself.
Hank shook his head in dismissal. �Don�t worry about it. So what are we up to?�
Sheridan sighed and stared at the road, and a sign that said Welcome to Harmony came into view. �I have a feeling that my father doesn�t want me to find out who Ella is,� she blurted out suddenly.
Hank didn�t say anything; he just stared out the window ahead of him for a minute. Finally he asked, �What would make you think that, Sheridan?�
�I don�t know,� she said quietly. �Luis�Officer Lopez-Fitzgerald, that is�he said that my father was sort of�encouraging them to run me out of town. �I�m causing trouble.�� She spat the last part out, bitter. �Ridiculous. I�m a Crane, for chrissake. We, like, own this town.�
Hank glanced at her, but didn�t reply. She had the decency to blush. �I mean, that doesn�t excuse, you know�but I don�t know�I�m not doing anything. I�m just me; I can�t help it that I attract attention.�
�Well, maybe your father isn�t trying to run you out of town, Sheridan. Maybe he just thinks your efforts are futile, and he�s a little worried about you.� Hank shrugged. �We did cause a bit of a scene at The Blue Note, after all. Your career should be number one to you.�
Frustrated, Sheridan replied, �Now you sound like him. What, are you guys in cahoots are something?�
His face turned beet-red, as if he was embarrassed or insulted, but he only said, �I�m just looking out for you.�
They pulled up to the mansion at that second, which saved her from having to reply. Once they had stepped out of the car and were at the front door, Sheridan said to him, �It doesn�t matter, because I�ve solved one little mystery. Thank you, Milly.� She directed that last part to her maid, who had taken her purse and keys at the door, and then quickly headed over to the stairs. Hank followed.
�What mystery?� he asked, curious as they started up the stairs.
�Well, Ella DuBois. I don�t remember her, really, which is a given. But I�ve been having dreams about her�that�s what brought me back to Harmony in the first place.� They were at the stairs to the attic now, and Sheridan paused, staring up at the door that had haunted her dreams for so many nights. She finally got the courage to start walking again.
�Yeah?� Hank prompted.
Ignoring him, Sheridan bent at the photo album in a box on the floor where she had left it�the one that had held so many pictures of a mother she had hardly known. She glanced up at Hank after pulling out the picture of the girl with the long brown hair and big eyes. �This is Ella,� she said quietly, holding the picture out to him. �I found this while going through some pictures the first day I was back here, and I totally forgot about it�but I had a dream last night, another dream, and this is her. This is Ella.�
He took it, looked at the picture, and then looked back at her. �No, I don�t think so,� he replied. �I�m pretty sure Ella was a redhead.�
�What?� Sheridan felt like she had been slapped. �No, that�s impossible. This is Ella.� She grabbed the picture from him, completely defensive of her theory. �It has to be. I dreamt about her last night!�
�Sheridan,� Hank said patiently, �just because you�re having dreams about her doesn�t mean that it�s all true. I mean, they�re just dreams.�
�No, it�s Ella! I�m sure of it, Hank.� Desperate for him to believe her, she continued in a pleading voice, �I never saw her face before. That was the one thing that was always missing, but I saw her face last night. This is her, Hank.�
He looked a little bit torn as he pulled her in for a comforting hug. �Listen,� he said soothingly, stroking her back, �you said yourself that you completely forgot about the picture, and I know that this is weighing heavily on your mind lately, Sheridan. You�re under a lot of pressure��
"But, Hank��
�Listen,� he cut her off in a gentle voice. �Maybe subconsciously, because you�re so desperate to find out who she was and why she jumped, you attached this girl�s face to Ella�s name.�
She didn�t reply. She felt fourteen again�hysterical, sent off to boarding school with no answers; completely unaware of why she was so out of her mind. Because she�d lost her best friend. The thought nudged at her mind, but she wouldn�t let it break through. She couldn�t even remember Ella, yet somehow this girl had managed to uproot her whole existence.
She let Hank hold her for a minute, and tears threatened, but she pushed them back. Finally, she broke free from his embrace and shook her head rapidly at him. She couldn�t let people keep telling her that she was delusional, which is basically what Hank had just told her.
�Please, just leave,� she said in a choked voice.
�Sheridan, don�t.�
�No! Just get out.� She sucked in a breath, struggling to keep her tears at bay. �I need�some space. To think.�
�Sheridan, we left my car at the Budget Inn,� Hank reasoned.
�So then have the limo take you there. Tell them that Miss Crane asked them to.� Sheridan turned away and stared at the stained glass window. �Go, Hank.�
She didn�t hear him leave, but several minutes passed in silence before she finally turned around and realized he was gone.
�I�m pretty sure Ella was a redhead.�
She had been so sure, so sure when she�d woken up that morning that at least part of the mystery was solved. That simple sentence had crushed all of her hopes. Her defenses lowered, she sank to the floor and finally allowed herself to cry�all alone, in the attic where the nightmare had started.
~*~
She was drinking merlot alone that night, in a silent living-room. She had dismissed her maid, her driver, her bodyguards�she had told them to leave her the hell alone, and not in a sugar-coated way, either. Sheridan had sure learned a lot on her trip back to Harmony, but that mean girl still lurked at the surface, and she hadn�t quite mastered the art of shutting her off. Especially when she was in the foul mood she was in tonight.
She had put on some comfortable silk red DKNY pajamas, shut off her cell phone, unplugged the house phone, and turned down all the lights. The fireplace was her only friend that night, and she had been staring at it for hours, trying to figure out just what the hell was going on.
It was in this state that Luis found her. Milly had let him in, warning him that the mistress of the house was in a �terrible disposition� and it was �unwise to interrupt her�. Luis had shrugged off her warnings and made his way to the living-room, not quite sure what he was getting himself into. Sheridan glanced up when she heard the shuffle of feet, taking a moment to stare at him. He wasn�t in uniform. He was wearing plain blue jeans and a long-sleeved white top that contrasted with his skin in a very pleasing way. She had of course noticed before that he was handsome, and now she wasn�t sure if she preferred him in uniform or in casual wear.
�What are you doing here?� she asked, looking back at the fire, the flames dancing in her eyes.
Luis stepped into the room and silently handed her a manila folder. �Here,� he said, backing away after she had taken it. �I just wanted to apologize. You were right. I guess I was a little bit angry at you, but I shouldn�t have dealt with it that way.� He cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable.
�What is this?� Her tone had not changed�she appeared a little bit lifeless, and the wine was making her a tad unbalanced.
�Everything I could find out about Ella DuBois,� he answered.
Sheridan glanced up quickly, shocked. �Really?� She stood very suddenly, setting down her glass of wine and clutching the folder as though it were her saving grace. �Are you serious?�
He shrugged. �Look for yourself.�
Excitement shone in her face, a drastic change from the lifeless zombie she had been a moment ago. She opened the folder, flipping through pages and pages of information on Ella DuBois. �How did you find this, Luis? I couldn�t find anything.�
Surprise crossed his face momentarily at her use of his name, but he didn�t comment. �What can I say? I�m an officer.�
She didn�t respond. �Um, well,� he continued uncomfortably, �I just thought that I should apologize to you. You don�t have to leave town or anything. You�re welcome to stay.�
Still, she didn�t reply. She was so preoccupied with going through the pages of information that Luis started to walk away, unnoticed. It was only when he reached the entrance to the living-room that she looked up at him.
�Who is this?� she asked sharply.
He faced her again. �What? Who?�
She crossed to him quickly and shoved a piece of paper at him. �This. Who is this?�
He glanced at the picture and back to her. �That�s Ella. You don�t remember?�
Shocked, Sheridan took the sheet of paper back from him and stared at the picture. Staring back at her, her face permanently frozen in a serene smile that belied her tragic death, was a young girl with long brown hair, big eyes, and a sweet, delicate nose.
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