Page 51 of When She Dreams

“Good point.”

“Your point is valid, too,” Sam said. “Mrs. Guilfoyle has a lot at stake. Regardless of her personal feelings about her husband, she knows he’s vital to the future of the Institute.”

“True,” Maggie said. “He’s the box-office draw.”

Chapter 21

Arthur Guilfoyle stalked onto the stage radiating drama in a high-collared black coat that looked as if it had been borrowed from the wardrobe Bela Lugosi had used inDracula.

Guilfoyle moved into the glare of the spotlight, head bowed as though he was gathering strength for what lay ahead. A breathless hush gripped the lecture hall. Maggie was impressed. He had spoken not a single word, but everyone was on tenterhooks. Well, not Sam, she decided. It would take a lot to put him on tenterhooks. But there was no doubt everyone else in the auditorium was excited, including her. In spite of her misgivings about the Guilfoyle Method, she was interested to hear what Guilfoyle had to say.

You had to hand it to the man, she thought. He might or might not be a fraud, but he had what it took to command the room. It wasn’t just his extraordinarily handsome appearance. Onstage, he exuded a compelling energy.

Arthur seized the edges of the podium with both hands and flung up his head as though he had just sunk his fangs into a lady’s throat andwas savoring the thrill of fresh blood. He was wearing stage makeup. A lot of it. His magnetic eyes had been rendered even larger and more intense by the application of dark eye shadow and eyeliner.

She slanted a sideways glance at Sam, who was lounging in the seat beside her. In the shadows it was difficult to be certain, but she thought he was amused.

“I am here to welcome you to the first annual conference of the Guilfoyle Institute of Dream Analysis,” Arthur said. His resonant voice, enhanced by a microphone, rolled across the auditorium. “You are about to embark on a journey that will open your minds to new planes of awareness and a new kind of knowledge. You will begin your climb up the ladder of the Guilfoyle Method and glimpse the astonishing things that await you when you reach the top. But before we begin, I have unpleasant news to report.”

A murmur of alarm swept through the crowd. Sam took the opportunity to lean close to Maggie. He put his mouth to her ear.

“Looks like the Guilfoyles decided to take your advice.”

“Once in a while people do,” she whispered.

“Last night I was inspired to journey into a lucid dream of the highest order,” Arthur intoned. “I employed the Guilfoyle Method to open my other senses and discovered there was a fraud among us, a person who was engaged in a grand deception.”

This time the auditorium buzzed with curiosity.

“In the course of my dream the truth was revealed to me,” Arthur continued. “I am saddened to report that the woman who claimed to be the celebrated columnist who writes the Dear Aunt Cornelia advice column was an imposter. She was intent on deceiving not only the Institute and those of you in the audience but the entire town of Burning Cove and the press.”

Shock and amazement rippled across the audience.

“When the imposter was confronted with the truth, she immediately packed up and left town,” Arthur continued. “We will never knowwhy the imposter chose to carry out such a scheme. It’s possible she is a practiced con artist. Perhaps she is mentally unstable. There are those who impersonate famous people simply because it gives them a thrill. Whatever the answer, rest assured she is no longer among us and can no longer deceive us.”

A round of enthusiastic applause greeted that news.

“I would remind you that it was the Guilfoyle Method that uncovered this astonishing deception,” Arthur said. “You, too, can gain this extraordinary ability to discover the truth by studying the techniques we teach here at the Guilfoyle Institute.”

An hour later Maggie and Sam filed out of the lecture hall and headed for the coffee and tea bar that had been set up in the lobby. They collected cups and saucers and sat down at a small round table that overlooked the lush gardens.

“I did have one psychic revelation during Guilfoyle’s lecture,” Sam said. “He’s a con, just as I thought.”

Maggie stirred her coffee with a small silver spoon. “What makes you so sure of that?”

“There’s no big mystery to it. Guilfoyle made it clear how the Institute will rake in the cash. It’s not about selling inexpensive tickets to introductory seminars and conferences like this one. Those are designed to get people hooked. Once they are in the program, they will find themselves buying their way up to higher and higher levels in order to learn the secrets that are only available to those who pay for the privilege of enlightenment.”

“There is definitely a financial angle, but that is only to be expected,” Maggie said. “We know it must have cost a fortune to purchase this old estate and convert it into the Institute. It will be very expensive to keep it operating. The Guilfoyles obviously have to turn a profit, but it doesn’t mean the program is a complete con.”

“The Guilfoyle Method is a con. Trust me.”

Maggie waved that aside. “All right, I agree Guilfoyle’s claims for his Method are rather extravagant, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t sincerely believe he’s having a psychic vision when he’s engaged in a lucid dream. The experience can feel very unsettling.” She broke off. “Damn.”

Sam raised his brows. “Something wrong?”

“I’m getting that feeling you get when you think someone is watching you.”

Sam’s gaze shifted to a point behind her left shoulder. “Probably because someone is watching you.”

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