Page 74 of When She Dreams

“People like you and me have been given a rare talent, Miss Lodge. I think we were meant to discover a purpose for our lucid dreamingability. I admit I’ve been willing to try any number of experiments, analysis, and therapies in the hope of finding out how I can employ my gift to help others. I realize now that I need you to fulfill my vision. We share a destiny, Miss Lodge. We can fulfill it together here at the Institute.”

“This has gone far enough,” Maggie said. “I have no interest in assisting you in the promotion of the Guilfoyle Method. It is obviously a con. You are in the dream business for the money. Admit it.”

“That’s not true—”

Footsteps sounded on the stage. Oxlade appeared from the wings, clipboard in one fist. His face was tight and twisted in rage.

“It is true,” he roared. “Every word of it. You have deceived me, you lying bastard. I was a fool to put my professional reputation at risk for the sake of a fraud. Our association is finished.”

Oxlade stomped down the side steps, marched up the aisle, and stormed out of the entrance of the theater. He slammed the door.

A tense silence fell.

Arthur groaned. “Shit. Dolores is not going to be happy about this.”

“You must excuse me,” Maggie said. She started toward him. “Please get out of my way. Mr. Sage will be waiting.”

“I will see you to your car.”

“That won’t be necessary. If you don’t get out of my way I will scream.”

“Calm down,” Arthur said soothingly. “You are allowing yourself to become hysterical. Oxlade mentioned your delicate nerves.”

“That is the dumbest thing you could have said to me.” She flashed her coldest smile. “Take my advice and stop talking.”

For the first time he looked uncertain. She got ready to scream. He must have realized she was going to go through with her threat, because at the last second he stepped out of her way.

She yanked open the door and went out into the hall. Guilfoyle hurried after her. She ignored him.

“Miss Lodge, please wait,” he said. “There’s been a terrible misunderstanding.”

She hurried down the hall. The lobby was nearly empty. Dolores Guilfoyle was chatting with a couple that was waiting for their car to be brought around. When she saw Maggie and Arthur her face tightened. Maggie remembered the words from her dream:Stay away from my husband.

The dream guide named Jake opened the front door for Maggie.

“Can I get your car, ma’am?” he asked.

“No, thank you,” she said. “Someone is picking me up.”

Jake looked out at the driveway. “The Packard?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Nice car.”

“It is.” She smiled. “I just wish I got to drive it more often. My research assistant insists on being behind the wheel.”

Jake chuckled. “Can’t blame a man for wanting to drive that speedster.”

“Can’t blame a woman for wanting to drive it, either,” Maggie said.

She went briskly outside, aware that Arthur was right behind her.

“Miss Lodge,” he said. “Let me explain.”

Sam was waiting in the shadows, the fedora angled a little lower than usual over one side of his face. The result was that he looked a little more dangerous than usual. Relief splashed through her. He was all right. The disturbing sensation she had experienced a short time ago in the theater must have been a trick of her imagination, generated by the shadows from the seat in which Nevins had died.

Sam saw her and started forward, but his attention shifted immediately to Arthur. A hard, cold light appeared in his eyes.

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