He had to smile. “You just can’t stop trying to fix things, can you?”
“People tell me it’s my most irritating characteristic.”
“Lucky you’ve got a lot of other really interesting characteristics that more than compensate for your tendency to hand out free advice.” He pulled his foot into the car, closed the door and fired up the engine. “See you in a few hours.”
“Good. Drive carefully. The fog never did burn off completely today and the weather forecast is calling for more of it this evening.”
Her concern had the customary warming effect on him. It was the same feeling he got when she told him to read romance novels, get acupuncture and lay off the red meat.
“You know, Isabel,” he said, driving out of the parking lot. “When this is over we really are going to have to talk about our relationship.”
“It’s too late. I’ve already fallen in love with you.”
She ended the connection before he could recover from the shock.
35
farrell let himself into the front hall of the big house. He was sweating and his mind was still reeling. Ever since Isabel had left his office he had been trying to think about what to say to Leila. But nothing brilliant or even mildly intelligent surfaced from the maelstrom of emotions, fears and uncertainties that were seething in what was supposed to be his brain.
The house was very still. It occurred to him that he had not even realized that Leila had gone home early until he walked down the hall to her office and discovered she was not there.
That was not like Leila. She was always at headquarters in the afternoons on reception days. The special social events were important. They set a tone and encouraged interaction between attendees and instructors. It was Leila who handled all the arrangements, from supervising the caterers to selecting the flower arrangements. Later she would play hostess to his host.
But today she had gone home early. And he hadn’t even been aware of the fact that she had left. For some reason that shook him almost as much as what Isabel had said earlier. Maybe he really had allowed himself to get sidetracked by the impending financial disaster.
He walked slowly through the elegantly tiled foyer and then crossed the glass-walled living room with its view of the foggy bay, listening for her in the deep silence.
“What are you doing here?” she asked from the kitchen doorway. “Is something wrong at the office?” Anxiety flared in her eyes. “Are you ill?”
He stared at her. She was dressed in a pretty, flowered robe and slippers. Her hair was damp from a recent shower.
“Kyler, Inc., is not more important to me than you are,” he said, speaking the first coherent words he could string together. “How could you think that?”
Her eyes widened a little. Then she sighed. “I see you’ve been talking to Isabel.”
He started toward her. “She came to my office today to tell me she is resigning as an instructor.”
Leila winced. “She quit? So soon?”
“Yes.” He stopped a short distance away, trying to read her eyes. “And then she told me that you think I care more about the company than I do about you.”
Leila hugged herself very tightly. “You’re spending so much time in your office. You’re never home.”
He rubbed his temples and decided he might as well finish what he had started. “Leila, Kyler, Inc., will probably be in bankruptcy court three months from now.”
Stunned, she just looked at him. “Farrell.”
“I screwed up big-time. We’re going to lose everything. I saw it coming a few months ago and I’ve been working frantically to find a way out.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “But there is no way out.”
“This is our business. We’re partners. Why didn’t you tell me we were in trouble?” She looked both furious and hurt.
“Because I was sure that when you realized that you married a failure you’d pack your bags and leave me,” he admitted. “I was in denial, I guess. I was trying to put off that day as long as possible.”
She lowered her arms, took two steps toward him and gripped the lapels of his shirt. “How could you possibly believe that I would leave you because of a business failure?”
He gripped her arms. “Sweetheart, I knew when I married you that you had certain expectations. You admire your father and he approved of me. You probably thought that I was like him in many ways. Hell, he figured the same thing. But I can guarantee you that he won’t be feeling the same way about me three months from now.”
“Listen to me, Farrell. I married you because I love you and because, even if you happened to be successful at the time, I sensed that, deep down, you were not like Dad.”
That stopped him cold. “What are you talking about?”
“My father had affairs with other women throughout the time that he was married to my mother,” she said very steadily. “He was never home. He missed every school play, every recital and several birthdays because he was too busy doing his big business deals or traveling to meet with politicians and lobbyists. We never took vacations with Dad. He’s been married twice since the divorce, both times to women who are younger than I am. Do you really think I wanted to marry a man like that?”
The great weight that had been crushing him for the past several months lifted so suddenly he thought he might actually be able to fly.
“I didn’t understand,” he whispered, dazed.
“No, I can see that.” She loosened her grip on his shirt and raised her fingertips to his face. “I suppose that’s my fault for not making it clear. I just assumed you understood.”
He pulled her close against him. “Maybe we should both sign up for one of those Kyler Method seminars on communication skills.”
She smiled tremulously. “Oh, Farrell.” She put her head on his shoulder. “I’ve been so scared. So desperate.”
“So have I,” he said into her hair. “But not any longer. I can handle anything if I know you’re with me.”
“Always.”
They stood together for a long time. After a while Leila stirred in his arms.
“We should probably go back to the office,” she said reluctantly. “This is reception evening, after all. There will be a million and one little details. There always are.”
“Tamsyn and the others can handle them.”
“But . . .”
He framed her face and smiled down into her eyes. “You and I have other priorities.”
“Such as?”
“What do you say we get started on that family we plan to have?”
Joy lit up her face. “You’re right. That sounds a lot more important than the weekly reception.”
He picked her up in his arms and carried her down the hall to the bedroom.
36
the good-looking man with the neatly trimmed beard was waiting for her in the hall outside her small office.
“Ron Chapman.” He gave her a friendly smile. “I’m enrolled in the seminar series this week. Just wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed your class on creative dreaming this morning.”
Isabel’s spirits, which had been at low ebb since the debacle, immediately skyrocketed. Nothing like a little positive feedback.
“Thank you. I’m afraid a lot of the students found it pretty dull.”
“You could have fooled me. You sure know your subject.”
“Well, I’ve worked in the field of dream research for some time,” she said, trying to come across as both modest and authoritative. “But I must admit that teaching other people how to get creative inspiration from their dreams is a real challenge.”
“You did great this morning. I’m looking forward to the next class.” He checked his watch. “Uh-oh. Looks like I’m running late for the session on time management. Probably not a good sign, huh?”
She laughed. “Enjoy the class.”
“I’m sure I will. See you at the reception this evening.”
“I’ll be there.”
&nbs
p; Tamsyn emerged from the ladies’ room just as Ron went past on his way down the hall. She gave him one of her vivacious smiles.
“Mr. Chapman,” she murmured.
He paused. “Please, call me Ron. I understand we’re all on a first-name basis while we’re here at Kyler headquarters.”
“That’s right.” She indicated her name tag. “I’m Tamsyn. I’m on the staff.”
“It’s a pleasure, Tamsyn.”
Isabel could almost see the sparks flickering between the pair. Instant attraction in action.
Tamsyn waited until Ron Chapman had disappeared around the corner. Then she winked at Isabel.
“Hmm,” she said. “Nice. Very nice.”
Isabel raised her brows. “I’ll bet there’s a rule against fraternizing with the seminar attendees.”
“Sure.” She rubbed her hands together. “But there isn’t any rule about dating one of the students after he’s finished the program. Don’t you think he’s attractive?”
“Who? Chapman? He seems nice enough.”
Tamsyn glanced back down the hall, looking thoughtful. “Actually, I would have said he’s your type. Sort of academic-looking, polite. Well mannered.”
“That’s it? You think he’s my type because he comes across as intelligent and well mannered?”
Tamsyn made a face. “Okay, maybe he seems like your type because he’s not intimidating.”
“Aha, now we get to the real issue.” Isabel peered at Tamsyn over the rims of her glasses. “I take it you find Ellis intimidating?”
“Well, yeah. Sort of.” Tamsyn cleared her throat. “Interesting but intimidating.”
“Now that’s where you and I differ on the subject of Ellis Cutler,” Isabel replied. “I find him very interesting but not at all intimidating.”
Tamsyn arched her brows. “Give me a break. You don’t think he’s just a little scary?”
Isabel pondered that, lips pursed, for about three seconds. “In the right circumstances, I think Ellis could scare the daylights out of some people.”
“But not you?”
“Not me.”
“I give up.” Tamsyn opened both hands in a what-can-I-do? gesture. “You’ve fallen for him, haven’t you?”
“Yes. Before I even met him, as a matter of fact. You could say he’s the man of my dreams.”
Tamsyn nodded. “Yeah, I’m starting to get that impression. What can I say, except good luck.” She glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to run. The caterers and the florist arrived a little while ago and no one knows where Leila and Farrell are. They’ve both disappeared. Someone’s got to take charge.”
Isabel laughed. “I can’t think of anyone who can do that better than you.”
Tamsyn hurried away, a bundle of sparkling energy and enthusiasm.
Isabel watched her go and wondered if anything would come of the attraction between Tamsyn and Ron Chapman.
Workplace romances are so highly volatile, she reflected, letting herself into her office. They are unpredictable, destabilizing and potentially painful. And here she was, breaking the rules, herself, by sleeping with her one and only client.
She propped herself on the corner of her desk and thought about the problem of workplace romances for a while. They were always high-risk affairs. People got hurt. People got mad.
Some people went looking for revenge.
37
an hour later Ellis thanked Dick Peterson for his assistance, climbed back into the Maserati and drove to a nearby park. Adrenaline snapped and crackled through him. He stopped, opened the door to get some fresh air and called Dave.
“Anything yet?” he asked.
“I finally found the information you wanted on that behavioral modification program at Brackleton,” Dave announced. Pride and excitement hummed in his voice. “You were right. Looks like someone tried to delete all the records but that’s pretty tough to do once the information goes online. The folks who ran this program did everything online for nearly a year until they shut down.”
“Got a list of the names of the professionals involved?”
“Sure. There were only three primary researchers. I tracked them down to see where they are now.”
“All gainfully employed?”
“Two of them are. They moved on to academic institutions. They’re teaching classes in criminal behavior and sociology. The third person seems to have disappeared. I’m working on it.”
“Don’t waste any more time on the search,” Ellis said evenly. “The third person took a new identity and now works at the Belvedere Center for Sleep Research.”
“I assume that was not just a lucky guess?”
“No. It all fits together now. Took me this long to see it because I was a little obsessed, just like Lawson said. I focused on Scargill and figured he was using a few losers from that behavioral modification program when he needed muscle. Never occurred to me that he wasn’t the one running things.”
“He’s still involved in this, though,” Dave pointed out.
“Yes. But either way, he’s not working alone. He’s had a lot of help, right from the start.”
isabel turned away from the window of her small office, unable to shake off the certainty that had settled on her. She took out her phone and called Ellis’s number. He answered on the first ring.
“I was just about to call you,” he said in a cold, dangerous voice. “Where are you?”
“In my office.” She frowned. “Why?”
“Get out of there. I don’t want you to be alone, not even in your office. Go hang out in the lobby or the café, someplace where there are a lot of people around. I’m just leaving LA now. I’ll be there in about two hours. A little less if the fog isn’t bad.”
A chill slithered down her spine. “Did you find Scargill?”
“No. I found out who’s working with him, though.”
“That’s what I was calling about,” she said quickly. “Remember I told you that in my dream there was someone standing behind Randolph Belvedere but I couldn’t see a face? I think I know who the person is—”
The door of the office opened, interrupting her.
Amelia Netley walked into the room. She was dressed in an apron emblazoned with the logo of a local floral shop. Her red hair was bound up in a scarf.
She had a gun in her hand.
“Hello, Isabel.” Amelia smiled her very bright, very shallow smile. “I assume you’re talking to Cutler? Give me the phone.”
Isabel hesitated, so cold now she could barely feel the phone in her numb fingers.
“Give it to me.” A strange look flashed in Amelia’s eyes.
“Do what she says,” Ellis said softly in Isabel’s ear. “It’s okay. Remember, she needs you.”
Isabel tossed the phone to Amelia, who caught it quite deftly in her free hand. She did not take her attention off Isabel when she spoke to Ellis.
“Hello, Ellis. You remember me. You knew me as Dr. Maureen Sage when I worked at Frey-Salter. You’ll never know what a shock it was to see you in the hallway at the center this morning. It was just dumb luck that I happened to spot you first and managed to avoid you. I realized at once, though, that I had no choice but to move very quickly.”
There was a short, tense pause. Isabel could not hear what Ellis was saying to Amelia but she could see that Amelia did not like it.
“That’s bullshit and you know it as well as I do,” Amelia said, suddenly violently furious. “When this is over Lawson will be finished. Do you hear me? Finished.”
There was a freakish stillness following the outburst. No one moved. Isabel was pretty sure that, on the other end of the connection, Ellis was not saying a word.
In the next moment Amelia regained control just as quickly as she had lost it, her face smoothing back into an attractive facade that belied the gun in her hand.
Oh, boy, talk about mood swings, Isabel thought.
“Now then, if you want to keep your little dreamer alive,” Amelia said, so
unding calm and in control again, “you will do exactly what you’re told. I know precisely where you are because before I left the center today I put a GPS bug on your precious Maserati. I am tracking every move of that car. I’m sure you could find the locator given enough time, but time is one of the things you no longer have, Cutler. Start driving back to Roxanna Beach. If you’re not precisely where I tell you to be two hours from now, your irritating little dreamer will be dead five minutes later.”
38
ellis let the Maserati have its head when he reached the freeway. This is it, he thought. Always wondered what my worst nightmare would be like. Now I know.
He intended to use the same route back to Roxanna Beach that he had used earlier in the day to drive to the center. It was a mix of freeways and old roads designed to avoid the centers of towns and other congested areas.
He forced himself to concentrate on his driving and on making plans. Isabel would be safe at least until he got there. Amelia would not risk killing her until she was certain that he was in her control. He was just beginning to put together the pieces of the puzzle that would tell him why Amelia had risked snatching Isabel but the outline of the big picture was finally starting to take shape. Should have seen it three months ago.
He punched out Dave’s number.
“What’s happening?” Dave demanded.
“She’s got Isabel.”
“She kidnapped her right out of Kyler headquarters?” Dave was stunned.
“Amelia Netley, aka Maureen Sage, doesn’t have any problem with taking a few risks.”
“Why grab Isabel?”
“She says she’ll release Isabel unharmed in exchange for me.”
“You believe her?” Dave asked, incredulous.
“No. But that’s another issue. I’ll deal with it later. Right now I’m working on the fact that Amelia has given me a two-hour window to get to Roxanna Beach. That’s just barely enough time to do it within the legal speed limit, assuming the fog isn’t too bad.”
“You’re not going to worry a whole lot about the speed limit, are you?”
Falling Awake Page 27