When She Dreams (Burning Cove #6)(71)

She gave that a moment’s reflection. “In the end he was definitely afraid of me.”

“Is this where the fire comes in?”

“I was reading the file when I heard certain suggestive noises emanating from the inner office.”

“You opened the door?”

“Naturally,” Maggie said.

“Forrester was inside. So was the missing secretary.”

“You really are good at this detecting business,” Maggie said. “Yes, she was sitting on his desk. He was standing between her legs. His pants were down around his ankles. That was fortunate.”

“Why? Because it gave you the proof you needed to know he was cheating?”

“No, because Brighton got tangled up in his pants when he turned to see who had walked into the room. He tripped and went down on his hands and knees. That gave me time to dump the papers from the file into the trash can and use the cigarette lighter on his desk to start the fire.”

“You do know how to go for the dramatic touch. Probably the writer in you.”

She smiled, and this time it was the smile that kicked up his pulse.

“Probably,” she said.

She reached down, curled her fingers around him, leaned over, and brushed her lips across his.

And just like that he was fully, fiercely erect.

He wrapped one hand around the back of her head. “It occurs to me that there is a lot to be said for a vivid imagination.”

“I don’t scare you, do I?” Maggie said.

“Lady, you’re welcome to walk into my dreams anytime.”





Chapter 41




I t took a few long-distance calls,” Raina said, “but we managed to dig up some information about the Guilfoyles and their financial situation.”

“Someone else helped you with those phone calls?” Sam asked.

Startled by the sharp edge on the question, Maggie turned to look at him. It was eight thirty in the morning. Raina had called the hotel and left a message from Sam’s “aunt” a short time ago. He had returned the call from a pay phone. Raina had suggested the three of them meet in a secluded location to discuss her findings. They had gathered in a quiet corner of a small park.

“I have another investigator in my firm, Lyra Brazier,” Raina said. “Please don’t worry. She’s very good. I realize you are concerned with keeping this business confidential, but I assure you Lyra is trustworthy, and she has certain skills that are useful when it comes to getting information. I swear, it’s a psychic talent. People talk to her before they realize what’s going on.”

Sam nodded, satisfied.

“Don’t worry about the cost of the long-distance calls,” Maggie said. “Just add them to your bill.”

Raina looked amused. “I’ll do that. You said your employer is covering my fees and those of Mr. Sage?”

“That’s right,” Maggie said. “But I’m the one who will be writing the checks.”

“I see.”

Raina took out a notebook, opened it, and flipped through a few pages. Maggie caught a glimpse of the odd handwriting and was briefly sidetracked.

“Shorthand?” she asked, curious.

“I used to be a secretary,” Raina said. “Shorthand is not only efficient for taking notes in my current line of work, it guarantees a certain level of confidentiality.”

Sam raised his brows. “It’s almost a private code, isn’t it?”

“Exactly.” Raina found the page she was looking for and paused. “Here we go. Before she married Arthur Guilfoyle, Dolores was Dolores Johnson. She was the illegitimate daughter of Carson Flint and a failed starlet named Elizabeth Johnson.”

“Carson Flint the Hollywood producer?” Sam asked. “The man who built the estate that is now the Institute?”

“One and the same,” Raina said. “Flint died eighteen months ago. He ignored Dolores her whole life. He always maintained he was not her father. Dolores’s mother couldn’t prove otherwise, of course. She was fired by the studio as soon as word got out that she was pregnant.”

“What happened to her?” Maggie asked.

“She worked at lunch counters until her death a few years ago. Dolores got her mother’s looks and tried to become an actress. She landed a few small parts, but in the end she failed. She found work as a receptionist in the office of a doctor who specialized in dream analysis.”

“Is that how she met Arthur Guilfoyle?” Sam asked.

“Yes, but at the time he was a struggling actor named Arthur Ellis. Apparently he had dream issues.”

“I think he really is a lucid dreamer,” Maggie said. “It explains why he booked an appointment with that doctor.”

“True,” Raina said. “At any rate, it wasn’t long before Dolores and Arthur apparently realized there was money to be made in the dream business. They decided to go out on their own as a team.”

“How did they end up here in Burning Cove?” Sam asked.

“Dolores’s financial situation underwent a dramatic transformation when Carson Flint died,” Raina said. She turned a page in the notebook. “He had a change of heart after his son was killed in a motorcycle accident. Flint redid his will and left everything to Dolores. Mostly that meant the Summer House estate here in Burning Cove. There was some money, but not a lot, because Flint was hit hard by the crash and lost more when the Depression got underway. The Guilfoyles must have used every last penny to renovate and refurbish Summer House in order to convert it into the Institute.”