Book begining...In progress

She barely noticed the cries of the tall bird’s that scattered in a thunderous mass towards the sky.  The Sandhill Cranes were here in the spring for only a month or so, their numbers in the hundreds of thousands. She so desperately wanted to come to this area and see the spectacular sight of them.  She thought to herself, ‘if I ever make it out of this I will heed the warnings of talking to stranger no matter how nice they seem.’  She stumbled and fell in the mucky water.  She could hear boots near, but couldn’t see her pursuer.  She could however, make out an electric crackle.  Was it the same one that had been used on her for all those days ago when she was flagged down and the stranger asking her help?  How much juice do those things have in them?  She wasn’t sure, and didn’t want to stick around to find out. Make a choice, and follow through.  She jumped to her feet and took off from the marshy Platte to the wooded area in hopes of losing the maniac following her. 
It was the wrong choice.  The birds had given her escape route away, the hunter had guessed the way she was running and was getting in place.  To the hunter, this would be a game of catch, release, and subsequent kill.  The other two were quick kills, no real planning.  This one would be mourned.  There will be web pages when it was over mourning her.  Before that the articles’ and sound bytes of families and friends will be begging for her to come home safe.  Pity, their pleas will go unanswered.  Crouching low the hunter in pounce position, she blindly ran past, the hunter was unseen. 
A hand shot out of the dark.  She was down; in one fluid motion the hunter was upon her, unsheathed the knife and cut her throat.  Face down in the peat and slime the hunter reveled in the soft spurt then flow of her blood.  After regaining composure, the hunter went to work on her body.
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Shooting straight up in bed drenched in sweat all Olivia could do was wonder if she could make it to the bathroom in time.  The images of the hunter slicing that poor girl’s flesh vivid.  Feeling the girl’s terror and fury to live, it was all too real to be just a dream. 
Olivia‘s husband woke along with his wife, all too accustomed to these nights.  It took an understanding and accepting person to sleep next to someone whose dreams have solved kidnappings, located the living and dead, murders, and missing items with uncanny accuracy.  He knew all this about her before saying “I do.”  After all, she was a world renowned author, lecture and intuitive. 
Knowing that tonight was different then the nine years of night terrors about the young Katy.  The case that in her opinion got away, her biggest failure haunted her most nights.  It was one of the reasons they were in this small town, to get away from the spotlight. To her she had she realized one small clue an hour earlier, that little girl’s sanity would have been salvaged. In reality, the local police refused to zero in on one of their own, instead of chased shadows till it was too late, she would be intact had they listened.  A seasoned detective finally gave in and listened to her pleas, but only after Major Wolfe intervened.  He had a way of making anyone listen to him and reason, but it was still too late.  The sheriff was a pedophile that had kidnapped, tortured, and left the little girl die in hopes of no witnesses.  Her body survived the ordeal, her mind seemingly lost forever due to the trauma. 
Olivia had seen the story on the news when they were on holiday, and had picked up on the little girl.  Nine days of begging the law to listen, she finally played the card she knew would work.  She had Major Wolfe come in person.  Media had swarmed the area news broke it was the senators daughter that was taken.  It took one sly reporter to recognize Olivia, and the media began to focus on the fact she was there, twisting it to the point the family began asking for her help.  One hour could have made all the difference to Katy.  To this day, some in the town cannot believe that two plus two equals the sheriff.  Shortly after Katy was institutionalized, Olivia refused public appearance when ever she could, fulfilling only the book obligations left in her contract.  This was a stark contrast to the person who loved presenting and writing for so many years.  Matters only getting worse two years ago to the point the only way she would help out was behind the scenes or via the internet when the program would ask for assistance.  So far so good, living incognito pseudo rural Nebraska.
She felt she was dealing quite well with living out of the spotlight, preparing for their first litter of Havanese puppies from Smokey and Hope.  Hope, going into her second heat was finally ready to be bred.  She was given as a gift from Wolfe shortly after they moved two years ago, and she was a former show dog just like Smokey.  They were the perfect couple and were expecting a litter of 5 pups according to the X-ray.
After a few minutes of dry-heaves she came back her side of the bed plopping down and sobbing.  She turned to her husband, he knew then it was for sure not about Katy.  She was focused on something and it was big.  What was the connection to her, the touchstone?  There was always some kind.  Katy’s touchstone was her small coin purse that Olivia by chance found and turned in at the town’s local mall office.  Other times it was a simple news broadcast, or an article in a paper, as it was with the set of painting from a Dutch museum heist. 
Something about the area in the dream rang a bell in her mind.  Was the touchstone a place she had in common with the girl, this person calling themselves the hunter, what?  She has been all over the world.  Crap.  It was time to make use of her bedside recorder and record the dream.  Then write it all down while it was fresh in her mind.  Look for the tiniest details she may have over looked. 
Her husband knowing this was going to be another all night event, left for the spare room next to their son to get some sleep.  She shut the door and began the all too common prep work of switching on the recorder and surrounding her self in the while light of the Holy Ghost.  Having to relive this one was going to be painful physically as well as emotionally; she grabbed her ancient teddy bear and got down to work.