Later that night, inside Corrie’s bedroom, Brett and Corrie cuddled naked in her bed after an hour of steamy body-trembling passion.
“I’m still having a hard time believing how my dreams came true with being with a beautiful woman,” Brett said.
Corrie smiled at his compliment. Her eyes widened. “Wait!” she reached over and removed her dream journal from the drawer on her bedside table. “I’ve written down my dreams over the years,” she said, then handed Brett her journal.
Brett opened her journal. She rested her head on his shoulder. “You know something weird; I still remember many details about my dreams,” Brett said, flipping through some of the earlier pages of her journal.
Brett stopped at one page. “You cried all night when you were told you were going to marry Charles,” Brett read from the page.
“Yeah, and Anne was pissed at me because she wanted to get married, and I was picked over her,” she replied.
“I see,” he said, then finished that dream and turned to the next dream.
“I walked down the hallway one day when Father gave the maid another day off. I walked past my father’s closed bedroom door but was surprised when I heard moans of pleasure. At first, I thought it was my parents, and the thought of them having sex sickened me. But when I heard the woman call out my father’s name, I knew it wasn’t my mother. So I stopped and got curious, and ever so quietly, I cracked the door open. While Father was in bed with Charles’ mother, Grace, I watched in horror,” Brett read from her dream journal. “Wow, I’m glad I never dreamt that sight,” Brett said with a light chuckle.
Corrie chuckled, then ran her fingertips lightly over the birthmark on his chest.
Brett flipped over to another page of the journal.
“I dreamt that I met a handsome pilot today,” he read from her diary. “Me,” he boasted.
“In my dream, I instantly fell in love with a handsome man named Matthew,” Brett read.
Brett put the journal down and kissed her forehead. He returned to her journal and flipped over to another page.
“I overheard my father and Grace talking, after another love-making session, about my upcoming marriage to Charles. I cannot figure out why Meredith has this arranged marriage.n I hope my dreams in the future will provide answers,” Brett read from her journal. “Now I’m curious why Meredith was picked instead of Anne,” Brett asked, putting her journal down.
“Well, Anne wasn’t as attractive as Meredith,” Corrie replied.
“From my dreams, I would strongly agree with you,” he said, then pondered for a second. “But I’m having a strong feeling there’s something else behind this arranged marriage,” Brett added.
Corrie thought about his comment. “I didn’t dream about that,” she said.
“Did you ever dream of Meredith having a diary?” Brett asked.
Corrie grabbed her journal and flipped through some of the earlier pages.
“Yeah. In my first dream during college, I wrote that my mother married Aaron Whitestone, and I hated him and his daughter Anne, who was so mean. I wrote that Meredith wrote how she hated her new family in a diary,” Corrie read. “I guess I forgot about a diary and never dreamt about it again,” Corrie said. She placed her journal on her bed.
“Maybe her diary has more information that our dreams haven’t revealed,” Brett asked and looked very curious.
“I don’t recall seeing a diary in her bedroom in the museum,” she said.
“I have a strong gut feeling it may still be in that museum,” he replied.
“I don’t know how we can find out unless we go back there tomorrow,” she said.
Brett thought about her offer. “No. They have too many employees that watch over that place like a hawk. We’ll never be allowed to rummage through her bedroom,” Brett replied.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. We’ll just never find out,” she said.
Brett thought for a second, got out of her bed, and slipped on his pants.
“Where are you going?”
“To see if she had a diary,” he said while slipping on his shirt.
“I thought you said they had employees that watched the place like a hawk?”
“I’m not going tomorrow; I’m going now,” he replied while slipping on his shoes.
“Oh,” she replied. It hit her like a ton of bricks. “We could get arrested! And a diary isn’t worth sitting in jail.”
“I’ll just have to make sure I don’t get caught,” he replied. “Besides, when we were there, I checked the rooms, and I didn’t notice any alarms or security cameras installed.”
“This is a dumb idea,” she said.
“I know, but I want to know what was the driving force for having you marry Charles, as this probably helped contribute to my death and our relationship,” he said.
“The keys to my Jeep are on my dresser. I’ll wait for your call to have bail posted,” she said.
Brett grabbed her keys and rushed back over to Corrie. He gave her a quick kiss on her lips.
Corrie watched Brett rush out of her bedroom. “It’s a stupid idea,” she said, then glanced at her diary on the bed.
Brett got inside Corrie’s Jeep outside in Corrie’s driveway and cranked it up.
Brett backed her Jeep down her driveway and stopped at the end. He looked for any traffic.
Someone jumped inside and sat in the passenger seat. He jumped a mile, then noticed Corrie and smiled. “I thought you didn’t want to come?”
“I had to be by your side,” she replied. She held up two pairs of rubber gloves used in cleaning the house. “We don’t want to leave our prints behind.”
He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on her cheek. “You’re the best,” he said.
“I know,” she replied with a smile.
He backed out into the street and drove off.
Inside their bedroom, Dorian tossed and turned in bed. She had a dream. In her dream, she was the 51-year-old spinster Anne. Dorian muttered out cuss words in her dream.
Back in Columbus, Brett pulled her Jeep off of Jonesville Road south of the Whitestone House museum.
They got out, and he rushed over to the front of the Jeep, raising the hood to give the impression of engine trouble.
They ran off into a field and headed toward the Whitestone House.
Later that night, in the backyard of the Whitestone House, Corrie and Brett cautiously peeked into the backyard from the side of the garage. “No security guards. It’s safe,” Brett said.
Corrie and Brett stepped out from the side of the garage and walked to the back of the house.
They walked over and stood underneath Meredith’s old bedroom window.
Brett glanced around the back of the house for a way inside. He looked at the other side of the garage, observing the long wooden extension ladder, then looked up at Meredith’s bedroom window.
Brett rushed over to the garage, grabbed the ladder, and rushed back to Corrie.
“I hope you don’t get shot again,” Corrie said with a light chuckle.
Brett cracked a smile. He lightly touched his chest and then placed the ladder underneath Meredith’s bedroom window.
Brett climbed up the ladder up to the window. He pushed upon it. “Wow, it opened,” he said.
He looked down at Corrie and smiled, then climbed through the window and went inside the bedroom.
Corrie climbed up the ladder. She went inside the bedroom.
Corrie and Brett looked around Meredith’s bedroom.
“I’ll look in the dresser while you look in the closet,” he told her.
She nodded in agreement, then walked to the closet.
Brett walked over to the dresser.
Corrie searched inside the closet.
Brett searched in all the drawers of the dresser.
Three minutes later.
“No, diary,” Brett frowned.
Brett looked at the canopy bed. A hunch. He rushed over and reached underneath the mattress. “Nothing,” he said, pulling his hand out from under the mattress.
“I still believe her diary is somewhere in this room,” Brett said, sitting down on her bed.
Corrie sat down beside him. “I feel it also. In my dream, she ran off from her wedding, and after she ran out of the church, I woke up,” she said. A creepy feeling filled her body. She jumped off the bed.
“What’s wrong?” Brett asked her, concerned.
“Sorry. It just dawned on me that I slept in that bed in a previous life, and it suddenly got creepy,” she said. She paced around the room.
One of the wood slats on the floor moved. Brett saw this and looked curious.
Brett got off the bed and walked over to that slat, knelt on his knees, and touched the slat.
Brett got curious and removed his car keys from his pocket. He used a key and pried the slat up out of the floor, looked inside, and smiled while reaching in that opening.
Corrie walked over.
Corrie watched Brett remove a dusty diary and chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, placing the wooden slat back in place.
“I also hid stuff under our floor slats from my younger noisy brother,” she said.
Brett chuckled.
A dog barked, and Corrie and Brett froze immediately.
They ever so slowly turned around and noticed a Doberman pincher, snarling, in the doorway to the bedroom.
“You go out the window first,” he quietly instructed Corrie, then handed her the diary.
Corrie slowly stood up.
The dog inched his way into the room, growling with sharp teeth, showing he was in command.
Corrie slowly and cautiously inched her way to the opened window. She cautiously and slowly climbed out with the diary.
Brett slowly stood up.
The dog inched closer to Brett, growling.
Brett slowly inched his way to the window.
The dog inched his way toward Brett.
Brett got to the window and noticed a ball of yarn on the bedside side table. It was within reach. He quickly grabbed the ball of yarn and tossed it into the hallway.
The Doberman chased after it.
Brett quickly climbed out the window.
Outside the Whitestone house, Brett stood on the ladder. He slammed the window shut the second the Doberman slammed his head into the glass. The Doberman yelped from inside the room and ran out of the bedroom.
Brett quickly climbed down the ladder. He lost his footing and fell. He and the ladder slammed hard on the ground.
Corrie quickly knelt to his aid. “You okay?”
“Why is it every time I’m in this backyard, I end up on my back?” he asked in a bit of pain.
Corrie chuckled, helping Brett up on his feet.
They quickly ran off toward the garage with the diary.
Five minutes passed.
They ran through a grassy field.
“I can’t believe what we did, and we got away
with it,” she said, heading to her Jeep.
“I’ve never done anything that crazy in my life. Never,” he replied.
They ran over to her Jeep. Brett closed the hood.
They got inside her Jeep and drove off.
Later that night, Corrie and Brett cuddled in bed in Corrie’s bedroom. She rested her head on his shoulder, reading Meredith’s diary.
“So she met a handsome man named Matthew Sims on July tenth in nineteen eighteen at Zaharakos ice cream parlor,” she read.
Brett looked amazed. “I remember seeing a calendar with that date in that ice cream parlor in one of my dreams,” he said. He kissed her forehead.
Corrie scanned through a couple of pages. She stopped at one. “Oh, this is great. She wrote that she and Matthew had a beautiful moment in his airplane, realizing she deeply loved him. He was a fantastic lover,” Corrie read from the diary.
Brett’s face turned red. “I recalled that dream,” he smiled.
Corrie scanned through more pages. She stopped at a page.
“Wait. I believe this is the answer we’re looking for. Meredith’s grandfather hated her stepfather, Aaron. So, he willed a huge tract of land west of Columbus to be given to Meredith upon her marriage. Her stepfather, Aaron, wanted to develop that land, so he and Grace schemed to have Charles marry Meredith, and then they would force Meredith to allow Aaron to develop it. She was scared of Aaron and knew he would use his thugs to force her into letting him develop the land,” Corrie read from the journal.
“I didn’t have that dream,” she said, flipping through some more pages.
“I remember in one of my dreams, two thugs busted into my hotel room and beat me up. They took me back to my airplane and said they would kill me if I returned to Columbus,” Brett said.
“Probably Anne’s doing,” Corrie said, scanning through some more pages of the diary.
Brett looked curious. “What was Grace to gain by having Charles marry Meredith?”
Corrie scanned through some more pages. She stopped at a page. “She was going to get a share of the profit. She needed money because her husband was a terrible gambler and squandered away their savings,” Corrie read from the diary.
“That sounds logical,” he replied.
Corrie flipped through some pages. She discovered a folded piece of paper stuck in the diary.
She opened up the form, and it was an old pencil sketch of Meredith.
Brett’s eyes widened, noticing the sketch. “Oh my God! I dreamt I drew that exact sketch.”
“Wow,” Corrie said. “So, it would be cool if you had a drawing talent and could sketch me,” she added, looking at the sketch.
“I do have that talent and would love to sketch you,” he offered with a smile.
“I would love that, but no nudes! I don’t want myself to find it in a diary ninety years from now when I’m reincarnated as another woman,” she said, followed up with a light chuckle.
“No nudes, I promise,” he replied with a smile.
“Well, enough of our past life; we need to work on our future,” she said.
Brett’s eyes widened. “Oh crap, Abby,” he said with a worried look.
“Who?”
“My golden retriever. I hope you like dogs.
“I love dogs!”
“I’m glad,” Brett said. He gazed into her eyes.
He passionately kissed her.
Within a minute, they were utterly naked, making love.