Authors: Jayne Ann Krentz
Vincent did not appear convinced. “Lawson’s gotta be pissed at me.”
“Sure,” Ellis said. “He’ll chew you out some. But here’s a tip from an old pro on how to deal with Jack Lawson: Always know when you are holding an ace and never hesitate to play it when necessary.”
Vincent frowned. “I’ve got an ace?”
“Lawson was an even bigger idiot than you were when it came to Maureen Sage, alias Amelia,” Ellis reminded him softly. “And he didn’t have any excuses. He was old enough to know better than to sleep with a member of his own research staff.”
“Oh, right.” Vincent brightened. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” Ellis said. “Now you owe me. That’s how it works.”
Vincent grinned weakly. “Got it.”
“I have a few more questions,” Isabel said. “The first is for Ellis.” She looked at him. “I understand that you and Dave traded cars somewhere along the way last night. How did that work?”
“Dave got into his rented Chevy and drove like a bat out of hell until we rendezvoused,” Ellis said. “I told Amelia that I had to stop for a stop sign. That’s when Dave and I made the switch. He kept driving the Maserati at a nice, sedate speed. I got into his rental.”
“And drove like a bat out of hell for Roxanna Beach,” Dave concluded. “He had the phone so every time Amelia called him to check up on him he could give her an answer. To be honest, I’m amazed he could get that kind of speed out of that Chevy.”
“On those roads and with that fog, I didn’t need a hundred and seventy-six miles an hour,” Ellis said.
Dave and Vincent watched him expectantly.
“So how much did you need?” Vincent prompted.
Ellis shrugged. “A hundred, hundred and ten on the straight stretches was good enough.”
“But the fog,” Isabel gasped, horrified. “How could you see?”
“I drove that route once before,” Ellis said soothingly. “I told you that when I drive, I pay attention. Besides, there was no traffic last night.”
She winced. “Because of the
fog
.”
“Yeah, that helped,” he admitted.
“You know, there’s something really scary about a guy who actually doesn’t have to stop and ask for directions. Okay, what about the wire cutters? How did you get those?”
“Farrell brought them with him. I called him right after I got off the phone with Dave. He met me a short distance from the amusement park. I took the cutters and told him to come in through the front gate when I gave the all clear. He’s also the one who found out that there was still electricity running into the park. That was when we came up with the idea of starting up one of the rides as a distraction.”
“Brilliant,” Isabel said. “Any idea why Amelia-Maureen arranged to have my furniture torched?”
“According to her dream log, someone at the institute mentioned how much you loved it and how you kept it in a self-storage locker,” Ellis said. “She also heard that you had moved it to
Roxanna Beach. She realized how expensive it was and how strapped for cash you were. She decided that if you took a major financial hit, you’d be a lot more amenable to the offer of a big pay raise and your old office at the center.”
Isabel groaned and told herself to let that go, too. She bent to scrape some scrambled egg off her plate into Sphinx’s bowl. “Question number two is for Vincent.” She glanced at him. “Last night when you and I were alone inside the concession stand, talking about your tsunami dream, what was it I said that convinced you to trust me instead of Amelia-Maureen? I mean, I know I have an honest face and I can talk pretty fast when necessary, but I got the feeling it wasn’t just my logic and sweet smile that made you believe me.”
Vincent watched Sphinx jump down from the windowsill and pad across the kitchen to check out the eggs.
“I think it was the cat,” he said quietly.
“Sphinx?” Isabel straightened. “What did he have to do with anything?”
Everyone watched Sphinx settle down to enjoy his breakfast.
“The doc told me how you rescued Martin Belvedere’s old cat after Randolph ordered it to be taken to the pound and destroyed. She thought it was a really stupid thing for you to do. It was one of the things that made her think you would be easy to manipulate.”
“Nice to know I made such a great professional impression,” Isabel grumbled.
“Last night, while you and I were talking and I was fighting off
the effects of the last dose of CZ-149, for some reason I kept thinking about how you saved the cat,” Vincent said. He stopped, as if he had explained everything, and went back to his food.
“I still don’t get it,” Isabel said. “Why did that make you decide to trust me instead of her?”
“I may have been doped up most of the time that I spent around the doc,” Vincent said softly, “but that doesn’t mean I didn’t figure out a few things about her. I knew that if she had been in your shoes, she would have let Sphinx go to the pound.”
Ellis looked at him. “I take it you like cats?”
“Yeah,” Vincent said. “I like cats.”
t
he good news is that Ellis is okay.” Jack Lawson relaxed into the squeaky government-issue chair and propped his ankles on the corner of his old, battered desk. “He wasn’t obsessing on some twisted Level Five dream, after all.”
“He was right about Vincent Scargill being alive,” Beth agreed on the other end of the connection. “I’m delighted to know that. I always liked Vince. But it would have been a hell of a lot more convenient if you had picked up on the Maureen Sage–Amelia Netley link a little sooner.”
“Now, honey—”
“I told you that woman was trouble.”
“I know, I should have listened to you,” Lawson said, going for humble because it was his only hope.
“What’s the bad news?” Beth asked.
“Actually, there isn’t any bad news today. There is good news and there is more good news.”
“And the more good news would be?”
“Got a new recruit.” Lawson looked out his office window to where Vincent Scargill stood talking with Dave Ralston, showing him around Frey-Salter. “Katherine’s brother is a Level Five and it seems he’s decided to become a full-fledged agent of Frey-Salter. Ellis tells me he’s a natural.”
“Ellis would know. Congratulations.” Beth sounded like she meant it.
“There are a couple of bits of less than terrific news.”
“I knew it. Let’s have ’em.”
“Ellis just informed me that I’m going to have to cover the cost of a lot of high-quality furniture that got torched in the course of the investigation,” he complained. “Got any idea how much furniture costs these days?”
“A lot,” Beth said.
“I was afraid of that.”
“What’s the other not-so-good news?” she asked.
“My new Level Five dream analyst consultant insists that I keep the Belvedere Center for Sleep Research in operation. Isabel says she doesn’t want to be responsible for the entire staff being thrown out of work. So I have had to come up with a plan to buy out Randolph Belvedere. It’s a real pain in the ass because it means setting up another phony corporate front to make the purchase and operate the facility. Going to be expensive, too.”
“Stop grumbling. It’s petty cash for you. What are you going to use the center for now that Isabel isn’t there?”
“I’ve been thinking that I can use it to run a variety of sleep research projects,” he mused.
“All of which will be camouflage to cover your hunt for more Level Fives, right?”
“It’s what I do, babe.”
“And you do it so well.”
She seemed to be in a good mood. He probably wasn’t going to get a better shot. He took his feet off the desk and leaned forward a little, belly tightening.
“I was thinking, maybe we could have dinner together to celebrate all this good news,” he said. “Maybe try that new Italian place? Invest in a bottle of bubbly? On me, naturally.”
“You mean on your expense account.”
“If it bothers you, I’ll put it on my private plastic,” he said quickly.
“Okay, I’m starting to be impressed.”
“Well?” He held his breath.
There was a long pause on Beth’s end of the line.
“Dinner sounds like a good idea,” she said eventually. “But I feel like eating at home tonight.”
She was coming back to him at last.
Lawson knew he was grinning like a fool but he didn’t give a damn. “I’ll bring the champagne.”
e
llis opened the door of Farrell’s office, walked into the room and closed it behind him.
Farrell looked up from some papers on his desk. When he saw Ellis, he put the gold pen down with careful precision and sat back in his chair. Ellis could almost see him bracing himself for the worst.
“Well?” Farrell said.
Ellis tossed a file onto the desk. “In my professional opinion, you’re in trouble but the hole isn’t too deep yet. Still time to dig yourself out. You’re in the classic spiral caused by rapid growth and overexpansion. You’re going to have to pull back and restructure your debt but the situation is manageable.”
Farrell still looked startled, as if he had been prepared for other news altogether. “It is?”
“Yes.” Ellis dropped into one of the black leather chairs. “As far as the debt restructuring goes, I know some people.”
Farrell cranked back in his chair. “Can I dare to hope that these people are not sitting, nor have they ever sat, inside a federal pen?”
“They’re legitimate investors.” Ellis spread his hands. “Why does everyone assume I’m either a cop or that I’ve got criminal connections?”
“Beats me. Maybe it’s the dark glasses. People who wear them indoors make other people nervous.”
“Huh. Never thought of that.” Ellis removed his sunglasses and tucked them into the pocket of his shirt. “That better?”
Farrell studied him for a couple of seconds. “No.”
“Forget the glasses. Let’s get back to your problem. The biggest decision you have to make is whether or not to return to basics. My advice is to follow the Kyler Method philosophy. Stay focused. Stop trying to be all things to all people and remember Kyler Method Rule Number Five: If you chase every trend that comes along, you end up chasing your own tail.”
Farrell contemplated the file that Ellis had put on the desk. “Got any idea how it feels to have your own advice quoted back to you?”
Ellis smiled. “It’s good advice.”
Farrell exhaled slowly. “You really think I can save my business?”
“Sure. You just got a little off course for a while, that’s all.”
“You mean like when I started offering classes such as ‘Tapping into the Creative Potential of Your Dreams’?”
“Good example.”
“I can’t afford you.” Farrell rubbed his temples. “You probably know that.”
“You’ve got it backward,” Ellis said. “I’m the one who owes you for what you did the other night at the amusement park.”
“Isabel is family.” Farrell’s mouth quirked. “What else could I do?”
“You could have asked a lot of questions that I didn’t have time to answer.”
“There’s a time for questions,” Farrell said. “That night wasn’t the time.”
“No. But not everyone would have understood that.”
“I trusted you because I knew that Isabel trusted you,” Farrell replied.
“Thanks.”
Farrell sat for a moment, his eyes on the blue expanse of the bay. “I didn’t want to be just successful with the Kyler Method, you know. Every time I thought about Leila, I wanted to be incredibly successful. I wanted to outdo her father. I thought that was what she wanted. It was Isabel who finally brought me up short.”
“How did she do that?”
“She reminded me of what Leila really wanted.”
Ellis reflected on that. “Isabel is good at figuring out what motivates people.”
Farrell studied him with a considering expression. “Which brings me to another subject.”
“What’s that?”
“Your motivations in connection with Isabel. Leila is still a little nervous about the fact that you might be using her in some way.”
Ellis clamped his hands around the arms of his chair and shoved himself to his feet. “Tell Leila that Isabel and I will soon be making a major investment together.”
“Bad idea,” Farrell said dryly. “In case you haven’t heard, Isabel quit her job here at Kyler. She doesn’t have any money. Leila and I will try to help her out with paying off the furniture that got destroyed, but frankly, we don’t have much spare cash ourselves at the moment. And I know for a fact that Isabel won’t go to her parents for help.”
Ellis went to the door. “She won’t need any financial assistance from her family. She’s got two new clients. One of them has very deep pockets.”
“My tax dollars at work again?”
Ellis smiled. “We plan to buy a house and new furniture to go with it. We’re thinking Spanish colonial.”
“Does this mean marriage?”
Ellis opened the door. “It does.”
“Fine by me.” Farrell raised his brows. “But some people—the other members of Isabel’s family come to mind—will feel obliged to point out that you and Isabel haven’t known each other very long.”
Isabel appeared in the hall. She looked past Ellis and smiled at Farrell.
“I just had this conversation with Leila and Tamsyn,” she said.
“I’ll tell you the same thing I told them. Don’t worry, Ellis and I have been meeting secretly for months.”
“Yeah?” Farrell asked, skeptical. “Where?”
Isabel put her arms around Ellis and kissed him. His eyes heated and he kissed her back, taking his time about it.
She looked at Farrell and winked.
“In our dreams,” she said.
t
wo months later, Ellis led Isabel out onto the floor of the Kyler Method, Inc., reception room and took her into his arms for the first dance of their married life.
A hush fell across the wedding guests. Everyone turned to look at the couple. Ellis did look terrific in a tux, Isabel thought, amused and proud. But then, she had known he would. Hadn’t she dressed him just this way in some of her dreams?
“You are very beautiful, Mrs. Cutler,” Ellis whispered. “I do not have the words to tell you how much I love you. But I do love you and I will for the rest of my life and beyond.”
“You are the most handsome man in the world, Mr. Cutler, and I love you with all my heart.” She laughed with joy and delight, happier than she had ever been in her life. “Although I must
admit that I was a tad disappointed when I discovered that you had decided not to wear your dark glasses for the ceremony.”