When She Dreams（Burning Cove #6）(85)

“What are you talking about?” Arthur hissed.

“I found Oxlade’s cologne bottle before you did,” Sam said. “I emptied the drug down the sink, rinsed out the bottle, and refilled it with tap water. Odorless and colorless. Looks just like the enhancer drug. Found the bottle and the diary when I cracked your safe last night. Left them both there to set you up. Didn’t have to put Maggie to the trouble of doing a lucid dream. I lied about that. Got the answers the old-fashioned way—I looked for them.”

Arthur released Sam’s arm and took a couple of steps back. He raised the pistol. “You’re lying.”

“Your wife was an expert on sedatives and narcotics because she used to work for a doctor, but the enhancer is the only drug you’re familiar with. Also, you were convinced you could use it to get answers. I figured you wouldn’t be able to resist giving me a dose of the stuff when you fixed the drinks.”

“You think you’re so fucking smart?”

“No, but I’ve got pretty good intuition. Not infallible, but good.”

Arthur scrambled back a few more steps. “You’re a dead man.”

He pulled the trigger. There was a distinct click followed by several more clicks as he jerked the trigger again and again.

Detective Brandon and two uniformed officers appeared on the terrace and walked through the open doors.

“That’ll be enough of that nonsense,” Brandon said. “Arthur Guilfoyle or Arthur Ellis or whatever the hell your name is, you’re under arrest for the murder of Dr. Emerson Oxlade and the attempted murder of Sam Sage. There will be some other charges, too, but we’ll talk about that later.”

Arthur stared at Sam, stunned. “How?”

“I found the pistol in your desk drawer when I searched your office last night,” Sam said. “Seemed like a good idea to remove the cartridges. I was reasonably certain you wouldn’t think to check the pistol, because you’re sloppy and impulsive. Not good with details.”

Arthur roared, a primal scream of rage. He jerked free of the officers’ grip, seized the iron poker from the stand on the hearth, and charged Sam.

“Shit,” Sam said. “Not again.”

He dove for the carpet. The poker punched the air overhead. Arthur was thrown off balance when he missed his target. He tried frantically to recover and swing the poker. Sam grabbed one of his ankles and yanked him off his feet. He landed hard on the tile floor.

The officers seized him and wrestled him into handcuffs.

Brandon looked at Sam. “You said odds were good he’d try to make a run for it when he realized he’d lost control of the situation today. Doesn’t look like that’s what happened.”

“What can I tell you?” Sam brushed off his trousers and straightened his tie. “It’s been a screwy case from the start.”

“Maybe you should stick with divorce work.”

“I’ve been advised not to take those jobs.”

“Yeah?” Brandon eyed him. “Who told you that?”

“Aunt Cornelia.”

Brandon nodded. “My wife says you can’t go wrong with Aunt Cornelia’s advice.”





Chapter 49




What is it with you and household furnishings?” Maggie asked. “First a coatrack and now a poker.”

“I’m not sure what’s going on,” Sam said. He drank some iced tea and settled deeper into the cushions of the lounge chair. “But when we get back to Adelina Beach, I think I’ll get rid of any item that could be used to crack my skull. No point taking chances.”

They were reclining side by side on the private patio of a guest villa at the legendary Burning Cove Hotel. The secluded suite at the luxury resort had been provided courtesy of Luther Pell, whose connections apparently included not only high-ranking figures in the underworld but also the management of the hotel.

Maggie had made the decision to accept the invitation to spend a couple of extra days in Burning Cove, and Sam was determined to enjoy every minute of it. He had no idea what would happen when they returned to Adelina Beach, but for now he was living a real-life dream with Maggie.

The morning fog had burned off. The scent of citrus trees wafted on the warm breeze. Palms shaded the grounds. He and Maggie had reservations for dinner at the hotel restaurant. Later they would take a taxi to the Paradise Club, where they would join Luther Pell and Raina Kirk for drinks and dancing.

This was the fantasy of Southern California life, the dream the studios and the resorts and the travel agencies sold to the rest of the country and the world. It was, Sam thought, a damn good fantasy—it felt real—but it wouldn’t have worked without the woman beside him.

Life was good—for now. But the future was in Adelina Beach, and he wasn’t sure what to expect when reality descended. He had to find a way to keep Maggie close. He needed a plan.

Maggie picked up her glass of iced tea. “Call me psychic, but I have a feeling your previous unfortunate encounter with furniture—the coatrack incident—is somehow connected to the reason you decided to open a private investigation agency in Adelina Beach.”

“Lucky guess,” he said.

“Intuition,” she said.

“Okay, maybe intuition.”

“I told you how I wound up in Adelina Beach. Feel like telling me how you got there?”