Jack McCoy sat at attention. The jury had been called in after deciding upon the verdict.
"Madam Foreman," Judge Joseph Rivera asked. "Has the jury reached a verdict?"
"We have, your Honor," the woman said. "We, the Jury, find the Defendant, Barry Crane, Guilty on all counts."
McCoy nodded in satisfaction. Crane had murdered his…mistress for the sin of becoming pregnant by him.
He had refused to take a Plea, was going to spend the rest of his life in prison.
Serves him right…
Only one thing marred McCoy's mood over winning the case.
That woman from his dreams…the ghost…
She was here, in Court, standing next to the Jury, and McCoy sensed the symbolism of her standing there, next to the Jury, as she glared at him, mortal hatred, in her gaze.
But, as hard as he tried, he couldn't get her to speak to him. She wouldn't tell him why she hated him, what he had done to make her hate him so.
That, and the repeated nightmares of her death, the…doppelgänger…rising up from the full tub, with staring, un-natural eyes...
McCoy had no option but to try something…drastic.
"Can you hold the office for me, Jamie?" he asked his Assistant.
"Yeah…" Jamie Ross said. "What's wrong?"
"I…" McCoy felt oddly reluctant...
"I've got some…personal stuff to see too. I'll be back as soon as I can."
"Sure," Jamie smiled. "I'll hold the fort."
McCoy sighed in relief.
The Ren Faire was back in town, just outside of city limits.
Maybe Anna will be there…
…..
Anna the Wise Woman-AKA Nanette Morris-was sitting at her small stall. Business had been good today, and she had been able to help her various assorted customers through heartaches, fear, and bereavement.
Then, she saw…him.
Jack McCoy.
She remembered him from last year, when he'd been haunted by two ghosts; one a girl murdered several years before, the other a woman McCoy had loved.
Those two were gone, into the Light, Anna hoped. As for Jack McCoy…
He looked like he hadn't been sleeping well.
Fortunately, Anna was finishing up with her last customer of the day.
She gave McCoy a barely perceptible nod. He nodded marginally, and turned to look at a display of vintage Mood Rings.
So, Anna turned back to her customer, a girl with her aura marred by soul-deep grief.
"Jeffrey is at peace, Michelle," she took the girl's hands in hers, feeling the Life Essence within. "He wants you to live, Michelle. He wants you to be happy."
"How?" Michelle's eyes welled.
"Small steps, sweetheart," Anna drew out her card. "Call me whenever you need me, and I'll help you however I can. But you need to let go of Jeff. He wants you to be happy."
The girl nodded tremulously as she pocketed the card.
"You really want me to call you?" she asked.
"Whenever it gets too hard…yes."
Michelle nodded again, and to Anna's eyes, her aura looked better now.
Michelle didn't know it yet, but she had passed a corner in her period of mourning over her husband's passing.
She'll wake up tomorrow morning feeling lighter, stronger…
"Thank you," Michelle whispered, then turned and walked away.
Anna stood too, made her way over to Jack McCoy, still staring at the display case of Mood Rings.
"I didn't expect to see you here," she touched his hand gently. "Are you all right?"
He sighed softly.
"I have a problem…" he finally admitted.
"Okay…" Anna considered. "Want to get something to drink?"
"Not that godawful mead…"
"No," Anna laughed. "There's a highly anachronistic coffee spot a few lanes over." She pointed.
"Thank the lord…" McCoy muttered softly.
Five minutes later, coffees in hand, sitting at a small table; and it was clear Jack McCoy didn't know where to begin.
"Just…talk, Jack," Anna sipped her coffee. "Whatever it is, we'll figure it out."
"I hope so…McCoy muttered. Then, clearly steeling himself, he took a deep breath, then let the words come out.
"There's this woman, and I've never seen her before in my life. I don't even know her name. She…hates me, Anna. I think she would like nothing more than to see me die a horrible death. But I don't even know her."
"Jack…you're a Medium…" Anna touched his hand. "Have you tried talking to her?"
"Of course I have!" McCoy snapped. "Problem is she won't talk to me! She just stands there, glaring at me."
"All right…" Anna sat back, riffling through her mind for solutions. "Has she interacted with you in any other way; like through your dreams?"
"Yeah…" McCoy shivered as he peered into his coffee. "Think I dreamed her death. But what I saw just doesn't make sense!"
"Why not?"
"I don't know her, Anna! Never met her until she started haunting me. But in her dream, I…"
McCoy swallowed, and Anna could see the fear in him.
"She thinks I killed her."