“No,” Luther said. He looked at Raina. “It’s not at all hard to believe.”
Raina smiled a misty smile. A sheen of moisture lit her eyes. She blinked away the telltale hint of tears.
Maggie did not need a lucid dream to know the bond between Raina Kirk and Luther Pell was strong. They were not just lovers; they were soul mates. If anything happened to Raina, Pell would stop at nothing to avenge her, regardless of how much time passed.
What would it be like to share such a powerful connection with a lover? she wondered. She squelched the wistful question immediately. A year and a half ago she had fooled herself into thinking she had found a man who understood and accepted her as she was. She had been heartbreakingly wrong. She would not make that mistake again.
Raina turned to Sam. “I understand you want to keep our association confidential.”
“Yes,” Sam said.
“That’s normal. How shall I contact you?”
“Call the hotel and leave a message from my aunt,” Sam said. “I’ll check the front desk during the lunch break tomorrow and again around five when the seminars are over for the day. If I hear from you, I’ll call you back from a pay phone.”
“All right,” Raina said.
“Do you need anything else?” Luther asked.
“No,” Sam said. “Not tonight. Thanks for seeing us on such short notice.”
“Brandon mentioned you used to work homicide in L.A.,” Luthersaid. “He told me you handled the Bloody Scarf Murders. Said you were the detective who arrested Chichester.”
“That’s right,” Sam said.
“I followed that case,” Luther said. “You arrested the right man. Not always a good career move.”
“The Chichester family convinced a judge and my boss that Chichester the Third was an innocent man,” Sam said.
“There was talk that the innocent man tried to murder someone else while he was out on bail,” Luther said. “Got caught in the act. After it became clear the press was on the story, the family had Chichester the Third committed to a private asylum. Coincidentally, the Bloody Scarf Murders stopped.”
“They say coincidences do happen,” Sam said. He looked at Maggie. “It’s getting late. We should go. Busy day tomorrow.”
“Yes,” she said. She stood.
Luther got to his feet. “One more thing, Sage. I got the impression Brandon is using you as his eyes and ears out there at the Institute.”
“He needs someone inside, and I’m available,” Sam said. “It’s good to know he’s paying attention.”
“So am I,” Luther said. “Call me if it looks like you’re going to need some backup. The people working security for me know how to keep out of sight when necessary.”
“Thanks,” Sam said. “I appreciate the offer. I may take you up on it.”
“Carl is waiting outside the door,” Luther said. “He’ll escort you downstairs and out through the private entrance.”
It was obviously not the first time Luther Pell had held a clandestine late-night meeting, Maggie thought. She smiled at Raina. “Thank you for assisting us, Miss Kirk.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Miss Lodge,” Raina said. “As you apparently have a long-standing interest in dream analysis, do you mind if I ask you a question?”
“Not at all,” Maggie said.
“Do you think there’s anything to the Guilfoyle Method? I understand Mr. Sage has concluded it’s a con, but I would like your opinion.”
The shadows in Raina’s eyes made it clear she was not merely indulging her curiosity. This was personal.
“To be honest, I’m not sure yet,” Maggie said. “At this point it’s difficult to be certain how much of Guilfoyle’s act is just that—an act—and how much might be a useful approach to gaining control of one’s dreams.”
“I see,” Raina said. Her disappointment was reflected in her eyes, but she managed a gracious smile. “I was just curious.”