When She Dreams (Burning Cove #6)(31)

“Relax,” she said. “This is Burning Cove. No one is going to be shocked by rumors of drugs.”

“What if someone connects the Nevins overdose to Jennaway’s death?”

It was her turn to take a deep breath. “That could be a problem. But it’s not going to happen.”

“You’re sure?” Arthur finished his drink. “When you think about it, there are some similarities.”

“No,” Dolores said. “The two incidents are very different.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. For one thing, there is no way Nevins could have gotten hold of Oxlade’s drug. He’s the only one who knows the formula.”

“He brought a supply with him,” Arthur said.

“Yes, but you know as well as I do he treats the stuff like liquid gold. He refuses to sell it. Why would he waste any of it on a random stranger in uncontrolled conditions? He’s a scientist. All he cares about is his research and his reputation.”

Arthur grimaced. “I know.”

“There are plenty of common drugs out there that can be lethal. Heroin, sedatives, morphine, cocaine. Besides, Oxlade swears the new version of the enhancer isn’t as dangerous as the old one. He says the worst that could happen with an overdose would be severe hallucinations for a few days.”

“During which time a person could walk out a window or try to fly off a cliff.” Arthur went to the drinks cart to mix another scotch and soda. “Or maybe take a midnight stroll on the beach and get swept away by a rogue wave.”

“Stop talking like that.” Dolores tapped ashes into the elegantly molded glass ashtray. “That was four years ago. There is absolutely no indication that Nevins got hold of the enhancer. The doctor said it looked like she injected herself, remember? The enhancer is always taken orally.”

Arthur took a calming breath. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right. I didn’t think about that aspect.”

“We may, however, have another problem involving Oxlade.”

Arthur gulped some of his drink. “We need him, Dolores.”

“I admit he’s useful, but—”

“He gives the Institute credibility. He’s a respected doctor. He’s got credentials. Having him promote the Guilfoyle Method will do wonders for our image. It separates us from the quacks and the frauds.”

“Oxlade has convinced you he can make the Institute successful, but you saw the crowd tonight. Those people bought tickets because of you, not Oxlade. No one paid any attention to him. He needs us, not vice versa.”

“I know you don’t trust the guy,” Arthur said.

“You’re wrong. I trust him because I know exactly what he’s after. As you said, he’s obsessed with his research. All he cares about is getting published in the most prestigious journals. He has concluded he can use us and the Institute to provide him with a well-equipped lab and an unlimited number of test subjects—the things he needs to enhance his reputation. That’s the only reason he’s willing to cooperate with us.”

“He may be a little obsessive about his work, but I’m telling you, he’s onto something with his lucid dreaming drug,” Arthur said. “I’m the living proof. Every time I’ve used the enhancer I’ve had the most amazing experience. I’ve seen things. I’ve had genuine visions.”

Dolores sighed. “You hallucinated, Arthur. Oxlade hypnotizes you when you are under the influence of the drug. Or maybe you hypnotize yourself. Who knows? Whatever happens when you take the enhancer, it’s not a genuine psychic experience.”

“You’re wrong.” Arthur’s eyes heated with excitement. “I’m able to access my latent psychic talents. Yes, it’s disorienting and hard to explain, but the experience is genuine, not a hallucination. Oxlade says not everyone has the talent for it, but I am a natural lucid dreamer. The drug takes me to the next level. I just need time to learn how to control the experience.”

This was not good. Dolores pulled hard on the cigarette. The situation was worse than she had realized. Arthur had crossed the line. He had become a true believer in Oxlade’s theories and the drug. It was a worrisome turn of events.

“We got into this business to make money,” she said quietly. “We told each other we could never go wrong selling dreams.”

“But think of the possibilities,” Arthur said. There was a feverish energy about him. “Thanks to Oxlade’s drug we can offer a unique, incredible dream experience. People will pay fortunes for the Guilfoyle Method.”

Money always got her attention. She had been focusing on the realization that Oxlade had gained too much influence over Arthur. Maybe she needed to step back and consider the situation from a purely financial perspective. No, they wouldn’t be selling a genuine psychic experience. But what if they could sell something that felt like the real thing? Arthur was right. People would pay any amount for a drug that made them believe they could tap into their psychic senses.

She took another drag on the cigarette while she considered the possibilities. “Tell me the truth. Do you really feel as if you are able to experience psychic visions when you take Oxlade’s drug?”

“If it’s not real, it’s as good as the real thing,” Arthur said. “It’s an incredible experience every time. You should try it.”