The Other Lady Vanishes (Burning Cove #2)(8)

For a time he and Paxton had gone separate ways. Gill had dabbled in the quack cure business before landing the position of director of the Rushbrook Sanitarium. Once in charge he had discovered there was a great deal of money to be made operating a high-class sanitarium for wealthy families who wanted to conceal their crazy relatives in a discreet asylum. “Out of sight, out of mind” was the unspoken motto of the Rushbrook Sanitarium.

The sanitarium had been in business since the turn of the century. When the last owner died, his family wanted no part of the operation. They had sold it to Gill for a song. His first step had been to double the fees charged to the families of the patients. When no one complained, he tripled the charges. It soon became apparent that wealthy people would pay any price to keep their crazy relatives locked up.

Paxton had used his Hollywood looks and style to take a different route to financial success. He had headed for Los Angeles, where he soon discovered that celebrities would pay any price to stay thin and beautiful. When the gossip magazines informed the general public that the secret to looking like a Hollywood star was Dr. Paxton’s Diet Tonic, business had boomed.

Paxton had been the smart one, Gill thought. He was not only making a lot of money, he lived in the glittering world of Hollywood. He rubbed shoulders with celebrities. He went to the best parties and spent his nights at the most exclusive nightclubs.

Rushbrook Sanitarium made money but it was situated outside the small, rural town of Rushbrook on the California coast. The remote location meant that very few people were aware of the asylum’s existence. That certainly pleased the families of the patients. But he was trapped in a hick town. If he didn’t find a way out, he was the one who would go crazy.

Three years ago he had been seriously thinking of selling the asylum and moving to San Francisco or L.A. And then Paxton had contacted him with a fascinating proposal. There was, according to Paxton, excellent money to be made marketing drugs to the Hollywood set. Gill had jumped at the opportunity.

The drug business had gone very well, indeed, but it had not freed him to leave Rushbrook. In order to prosper they had needed a laboratory, one that would not draw the attention of the FBI. The obvious place to install a fully equipped lab had been at Rushbrook. No one questioned a laboratory in a mental hospital. But it meant that, for most of the time, Gill was still trapped in his role as the director of the sanitarium, still imprisoned in the isolated, rural community.

Everything had changed the day he had learned about the drug called Daydream. He and Paxton understood immediately that the possibilities were breathtaking. Yes, there was a fortune to be made, but the drug held the promise of something even more alluring—power. Once Daydream was perfected, it could be used to control anyone, from mobsters to presidents.

Patient B’s escape had put the entire plan in jeopardy.

“We’re running out of time,” he said. “Massey is getting impatient. If we can’t recover the subject soon, the experiment will have to be terminated.”

“It’s not that easy,” Paxton said. “Patient B has had time to establish herself in the community. She’s got friends here. If she goes missing, there are people who will ask questions. That’s the last thing we want.”

“You said she is working as a waitress in a tearoom. Who would look for a missing waitress?”

“Her closest friend here in Burning Cove happens to be a lady private investigator.”

“What? How the hell did she get involved with a private detective?”

“I have no idea but that’s the situation.”

“Damn it,” Gill hissed. “You’ve got to deal with this mess. We can’t risk the subject going to the cops or the FBI with information about Daydream. They probably wouldn’t believe her but if the press gets hold of the story—”

“I’m well aware of that,” Paxton said.

“We need to get control of the situation now. Things are deteriorating, in case you haven’t noticed. First Ormsby accidentally ingests some of the drug and jumps out a window, and then the new research subject escapes. You said you would take care of everything.”

“I told you, things are more complicated than they first appeared,” Paxton said. “But I’ve got a new plan. I can’t carry it out alone, though. I need your help. You’ll have to come to Burning Cove.”

Gill glanced at the wall clock. “It’s a three-hour drive. I can be there early this evening. Make a reservation for me at a hotel.”

“I’d suggest the Burning Cove Hotel. That’s where I’m staying. But under the circumstances I don’t think it would be a good idea for us to be seen together. I’ll find a smaller, more secluded place for you to stay.”

“All right.”

Gill tossed the receiver back into the cradle. He would probably end up at a cheap auto court that wouldn’t have room service or decent plumbing.

Paxton, on the other hand, was staying at the Burning Cove, a legendary hotel that catered to the rich and famous. Not only that, he was fucking Vera Westlake, the actress the press had dubbed the most beautiful woman in Hollywood.

Somehow, Paxton always seemed to get the better end of every deal they had ever done together.

Gill glanced at his watch. Time to go home and pack. But first he had to come up with a reasonable excuse to give to his staff to explain his absence.