As he woke up, Jeff's face became Adam's. It's expression was concerned.
"You looked like you were having a bad dream." Standing up, his coat draped over his arm.
"I was having a dream, it wasn't good or bad." Sighing deeply he wondered if he should tell Adam. Neither one of them was ever given to that kind of thing. They both tended to scoff at psychic detectives when they heard of them. Sometimes they worked sometimes they didn't. They were unreliable, Jack and Adam saw them as a source of amusement and not much more. But now he felt conflicted because there was something going on with these dreams and they seemed a force to be reckoned with.
"Does it relate to a case?" Adam sat down in a nearby chair.
Jack sat up and looked at him. Then his eyes shifted from side to side like he was trying to figure something out.
"Yes, it does." Jack felt naked and vulnerable. He expected Adam to laugh at him and tell him to forget such foolishness.
For a second Adam just looked at him. Nothing in his expression betrayed any mockery.
"I had a dream once that lead to an overturned conviction, but no one knew the information came from a dream. When I collaborated the evidence with the dream then I told someone and went from there."
A logical method Jack thought and relaxed a bit.
"Well don't let it keep you up too much." Adam said as he walked out the door. "Enjoy the holiday."
"Halloween is a holiday, for whom?" Jack said to himself.
Ghosts, The answer came back silently.
Seeing that it was morning and the sun was getting ready to rise Jack thought he'd been sleeping enough and had to get out of the office. Remembering the information from Riekers he wanted to go and check something out there. So he quickly headed over to his apartment to shower and change beforehand.
At Riekers Jack talked to a couple of guards and the warden about Campbell and learned nothing useful. Nobody remembers him saying anything significant relating to Jeff Buntz.
On the way back home Jack remembers an old friend who used to be in the department. Thinking about the dream before he was woken up, Jeff was saying something about a landfill. That made Jack think of his friend Ken Barber who during his tenure with the force seemed to find more bodies in landfills that anyone else. So he thought he'd call in a favor.
Ken looked at him in disbelief. "A landfill, after how many years?"
"Look," Jack said, trying to sound half-way intelligent, "I know it's a long shot, but there's something about this that I feel strongly about and I can't explain why."
"You been watching the psychic-friends network or something?" Ken began wondering about his friend. He'd heard lines like that before and noticed that only a small number of times did anything ever pan out. Just enough to notice and make you wonder what was going on. Most of the time the people saying things like this were at best misguided, at worst, bordering on insanity. In Ken's eye's Jack was one of the sanest people he knew, rarely misguided. This had to be worthwhile for him to take it this far.
