Falling Awake(71)
Author: Jayne Ann Krentz

“One thing.” Ellis set his briefcase on the floor and pulled out a notebook. “I’d like to talk to someone who can give me a little background on every member of the staff who worked that night.”

Hopton rested his bulky frame against the edge of the counter, watching Ellis closely. “I’ve been head of security here at the center since day one. I know everybody.”

“You’ll do,” Ellis said.

It took them fifteen minutes to go through the list of people who signed in and out on the night of Belvedere’s death. As promised, Bruce recognized them all.

Halfway down the list, Ellis put his finger under Isabel’s name.

“Ms. Wright often worked nights,” Bruce said. “Sure miss her. She was a real nice lady.” He paused. “You ever hear of a condition called sleep paralysis?”

“Yes.” Ellis glanced up, curious about the change of topic. “It’s a sensation some people get occasionally when they’re transitioning from the dreaming state to the waking state. They suddenly feel paralyzed and they are because the brain hasn’t yet switched off the mechanism that keeps them from moving around during a dream.”

Bruce nodded, very serious. “Ms. Wright explained it. She said that mechanism is what protects the sleeper from falling out of bed at night or worse. But occasionally the switch doesn’t get turned off when it’s supposed to and you wake up still frozen. You can’t move. Can’t speak. Whatever dream you’re coming out of gets tangled up with the paralysis and you hallucinate. Very scary stuff.”

Ellis wondered where this was going. “Some researchers think that sleep paralysis may explain the stories of alien abductions. People who report that kind of thing usually say they felt paralyzed. Other cultures have other metaphysical or supernatural explanations for the experience.”

“My grandson was experiencing sleep paralysis once or twice a week,” Hopton said soberly. “Had terrible hallucinations and nightmares. Got so the kid was terrified to even go into his bedroom. Tried to stay up all night just so he wouldn’t fall asleep. His folks thought at first that he was just being difficult. Then they started to wonder if he had some kind of mental illness, you know?”

Ellis understood. He smiled slightly. “So you told Ms. Wright about your grandson’s dreams and she explained what was going on.”

“Yep. She talked to the kid. Reassured him that he was okay. She also gave my daughter and son-in-law the name of a doctor who was familiar with that kind of thing. Turned out the sleep paralysis was being triggered so frequently because of some medication that my grandson was taking. When they switched meds, he stopped having the experiences.” Bruce rubbed the back of his neck. “Don’t know how long the poor kid would have gone on suffering if it hadn’t been for Ms. Wright.”

“I see.” Isabel at work, Ellis thought. Fixing things. He moved his finger to the next name. “What about this person?”

“That’s Dr. Rainey. She’s been on the staff forever. Works in the sleep lab so she spends a lot of nights here, too.” Bruce drew his busy brows together. “Huh.”

“What?”

“That’s funny. Thought Dr. Rainey was out of town for a couple of days that week. I remember she said something about going to visit her son and his wife in Mendocino. She must have got home early and decided to come in to work that night.”

The familiar, icy trickle of adrenaline slithered through Ellis.

“I’d like to talk to her as soon as possible,” he said, keeping his voice very even.

“Sure. No problem. Belvedere said you could talk to anyone you want.” Bruce glanced at the clock on the wall. “I saw her earlier today. She’s probably upstairs in her office now.”

Dr. Rainey was in her mid-sixties, short, stocky and impatient with the interruption.

“There must be some mistake,” she snapped, glowering over the tops of her reading glasses. “I was out of town that night. Didn’t get back until the following day. I remember what a shock it was to come back and hear that Martin had died.”

Ellis opened the sign-in log. “Is that your signature, ma’am?”

Dr. Rainey scowled at the scrawled name. “No, it is not. My handwriting is bad, but it’s not that bad.” She removed her glasses and peered more closely at Ellis. “I don’t understand. What is this all about?”

“I think someone signed in using your name that night,” Elis said.

“Why on earth would anyone do that?”

“Good question.” He looked at Bruce. “How hard would it be for a person to sign in under someone else’s name?”

Bruce did not look happy. “Not hard at all. Got someone on duty around the clock downstairs but the sign-in log just sits out on the counter. No one checks the names against the faces or bothers with ID unless the person signing in is a visitor or a new member of the staff.”

“In other words, one member of the staff could sign in under someone else’s name.”

Bruce scratched his bald head and appeared even more uncomfortable. “Sure, guess that would be possible. As long as the guard recognized the person as a member of the staff there would be no reason to see what signature was actually written down on the log. I mean, you’d just assume it would be the right one. What would be the point of one employee signing in under another’s name?”

Mass confusion and plausible deniability in the event anyone ever questioned who was in the building on the night of Belvedere’s death, Ellis thought.

He walked out the front door of the center a short time later and got into the driver’s seat of the Maserati. He left the door open and sat at an angle, one foot inside the car, the other on the ground.

It was almost two o’clock. He needed food. He also needed to talk to Isabel. Of the two basic necessities, Isabel was more important.

He took out his phone and called her number.

She answered on the first ring. “Hello?”

“Congratulations. You have just graduated from amateur sleuth to professional. You were right. It looks like someone probably did murder Dr. Martin Belvedere.”

“Good grief.” She sounded shocked, in spite of the fact that it was her idea in the first place. “What did you find out?”

“Among other things, I confirmed that Belvedere met with Scargill or someone matching Scargill’s description on at least two occasions.”