Falling Awake(55)
Author: Jayne Ann Krentz

The sirens were closer now. But she knew they would not make it in time to save her very beautiful, very expensive, very uninsured furniture from the flames.

26

ellis lounged on one of the kitchen counter chairs and watched the scene taking place in the living room. Leila, Farrell and Tamsyn formed a tight group around Isabel, who sat on the sofa with Sphinx huddled in her lap.

“I’m all right,” Isabel assured them for the hundredth time. “Really. Not even singed. And so is that poor attendant. The real Tom.”

Isabel’s sister, brother-in-law and friend had burst through the front door only minutes after they received word of the events out at Roxanna Beach Self Storage. They had made it clear that they were there to provide comfort and support to Isabel and that Ellis was not part of the intimate circle. He had been neatly edged out of the picture within seconds of their arrival.

None of them knew and probably wouldn’t have cared that his insides were colder than the far side of the moon and his mind was filled with screaming, waking nightmares of what had almost happened out at the storage facility.

He watched Isabel as she compulsively stroked Sphinx and explained what had happened. He was accustomed to being excluded. Hell, he had engineered his entire life so he could keep a safe distance from just this kind of situation, one saturated with emotion and intimacy. Better to stand just outside the zone. Better to maintain his status as an outsider.

But even as he told himself that this was the way he wanted it, he knew he was lying. It was too late to pretend that he could drive off into the sunset when this was all over.

“Thank God the attendant was not a huge man,” Leila said, shuddering at the thought. “You might not have been able to haul him out of the unit.”

Tamsyn shook her head. “I’ve heard it’s absolutely amazing what you can do when the adrenaline kicks in.”

Farrell looked grim. “Nevertheless, there are limits. That guy can thank his lucky stars that Isabel is in good shape.”

It occurred to Ellis that none of the three had berated Isabel for taking the risk of going back into the burning locker to rescue the attendant. He studied their faces one by one and realized why. Each of them understood what Isabel had done because under similar circumstances, they would have attempted to do the same thing.

These were good people, he thought. They might not hold a high opinion of him, but he gave all of them a thumbs-up.

Tamsyn’s attractive face tightened into an anxious frown. “What about the bastard who started the fire and tried to lock you and the attendant inside?”

“Thanks to Ellis, he’s in jail,” Isabel said. “The detective in charge of the investigation said he hasn’t talked yet, but they’re sure that he will eventually.”

Farrell gave Ellis a considering look. Then he quietly detached himself from the group and walked to the counter.

“I want to have a word with you outside,” he said in a low voice.

Ellis nodded and got to his feet. He had a hunch he knew what was coming.

They went out onto the front porch and stood at the railing for a while. Ellis put on his sunglasses.

“I want to know what the hell is going on here,” Farrell said evenly. “My wife had a background check run on you this morning. Everything she found indicates that you’re a legitimate businessman. But I’m not buying it.”

“Yeah, I sort of got that impression.”

Farrell turned to face him. “Isabel has never led what most people would call a normal life but she’s never had the kind of problems she’s had lately. I find myself looking for some reasonable explanation. But all I come up with is you.”

“I know.”

“Who are you, Ellis Cutler, and why are you hanging around Isabel?”

Ellis hesitated, but only for a few seconds. He had already made up his mind about how to deal with Farrell.

“Got a pen?” he asked mildly.

Farrell’s hand automatically went to the gold pen in his pocket. “Why?”

“I’m going to give you a phone number. It’s the private line of a woman named Beth Mapstone. She operates a large private investigation business that has affiliates in several states, including here in California. You can verify her identity and credentials. She’ll answer your questions about me.”

Farrell’s brow furrowed. “Are you some kind of investigator?”

“Yes.” He leaned against a post and folded his arms. “Used to do it full-time but now I’m freelance. Mostly I’m a venture capitalist these days.”

Farrell slowly took his pen out of his pocket. “You’re working on a case here in Roxanna Beach?”

“Yes.”

“What’s all this have to do with Isabel?”

“She’s assisting me.”

“Bullshit. Isabel doesn’t know anything about investigative work.”

“Got news for you. Isabel has been consulting for me and other Mapstone Investigation agents for the past year, although this is her first field job.”

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph.” Farrell rubbed his temples. “Not the dream analysis thing?”

“Afraid so.”

Farrell did not bother to conceal his incredulity. “Are you telling me that there are serious criminal investigators out there using this Level Five lucid dreaming crap to solve crimes?”

“I know it’s a little hard to believe—”

“I can believe some of it, all right,” Farrell interrupted roughly. “But not all of it. I’m not a complete idiot, Cutler. I’ve got a background in the corporate world. I know enough to follow the money, and I can see that there’s a lot of it tied up in this thing, starting with the center itself. I wondered how Martin Belvedere kept that place afloat. I never understood why he hired Isabel and paid her such a good salary when she’s got zero credentials in the field of sleep research. Now you’re telling me that you work for a criminal investigation firm that employs agents who use psychic dreaming as an investigative technique.”

Ellis nodded. “Yeah.”

Farrell glanced at the Maserati and then raked Ellis from head to toe, taking in the expensive dark green shirt, charcoal pants and leather shoes. “This firm pays its consultants enough money to enable them to drive high-end cars and wear hand-tailored shirts. Not the usual gumshoe attire, Cutler.”

Ellis smiled. He was starting to like Farrell a lot.

“And this Mapstone Investigations operation uses Isabel to analyze its agents’ dreams.”