“Here,” she called. “On the stage. She’s in here, too, on the floor. She fell. She’s got a gun. Don’t stumble over Gloria. She’s unconscious.”
The overhead fixture backstage came on, sending some light into the wings. Footsteps sounded. Sam appeared. He had his pistol in one hand, a flashlight in the other. Jake was right behind him.
Sam saw her and started toward her.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes, I think so.”
Satisfied, Sam walked to the edge of the stage and looked down.
“Get the gun, Jake,” he ordered. “It’s under the center seat in the front row.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jake bounded down the side steps.
Arthur appeared, frantic and breathless. “Where is she? Where is my wife? Is she all right?”
“She’s alive,” Sam said. He leaned down to take the pistol Jake handed up to him.
“Dolores,” Arthur whispered. He went down the steps. “Darling, what have you done?”
“Arthur,” Dolores said. “Help me. You have to help me.”
A man dressed in a catering uniform showed up next. “The lady on the floor back here is unconscious, Mr. Sage, but she’s alive. My boss is calling the cops. They’ll be here soon.”
“Find your boss,” Sam said. “Tell him we’re going to need an ambulance.”
“Right.”
The caterer headed up the aisle toward the main entrance of the theater.
Sam slipped the pistol inside his evening jacket and went to Maggie, who was trying to push herself to her feet. She was shivering so badly she didn’t trust her balance. Sam wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close.
“Maggie,” he said, his voice a hoarse rasp. “Maggie.”
“I’m okay,” she said. “How did you know where to find me?”
“I knew something was wrong when I returned to the lobby. You were gone and there was no sign of Dolores Guilfoyle. Jake said he’d seen you heading for the ladies’ room. He said you hadn’t returned.”
She looked down at the floor below the stage. Arthur was kneeling beside Dolores, cradling her in his arms.
“Darling, how could you do this?” Arthur murmured.
“I did it to save you,” Dolores wailed. “To save our dream. You have to help me.”
“I will,” Arthur vowed. “I will get you the help you need.”
Sam pulled Maggie close and tight against him.
“Don’t get me wrong,” he said into her hair, “I appreciate the dramatic touch. But you are very hard on the nerves.”
She pressed her face into his shoulder. “You were right about one thing. A small pistol can be just as scary as a big one at close quarters.”
Chapter 48
Scotch and soda?” Arthur asked.
“Sounds good,” Sam said. He crossed the living room of the villa and stopped at the windows. “Great view.”
“Dolores loves this house.” Arthur went to the drinks cabinet and got busy with the bottles and glassware. “Sadly, I don’t think she’ll ever see it again. The doctor told me she suffered a total breakdown. She’s delusional. The asylum attendants picked her up from the Burning Cove hospital this afternoon. She had to be heavily sedated.”
Sam glanced back over his shoulder. “You had her committed?”
“That’s what the doctor recommended. I’m assured everything will be handled with great discretion. This way she won’t have to stand trial.”
Sam turned away from the view. “Did you know she was becoming unstable?”
“I suspected as much.” Arthur picked up the two glasses and carried them across the room. He handed one of the glasses to Sam. “I didn’t want to believe it. We came so far together. It’s hard to imagine the Guilfoyle Institute without her. She was a genius when it came to marketing. But somewhere along the line she became obsessed.”
Sam drank some of the scotch and soda and lowered the glass. “She told Maggie that four years ago she murdered a woman named Virginia Jennaway and that she also killed Beverly Nevins and one of the dream guides, Valerie Warren.”
“Yes, I know. Detective Brandon said she confessed to all three murders. She accused those women of trying to blackmail us.” Arthur swallowed some of his drink and shook his head. “Claimed she had to do it because they were threatening her dream.”
“I heard what she said in the theater. As I recall, she indicated it was a dream you both shared.”
“In her case it became an obsession. She is paranoid, Mr. Sage. Unstable.”
“She intended to kill Maggie last night and frame Gloria for the murder.”
“I know.” Arthur closed his eyes in sorrow. “I know.”
“But she didn’t admit to killing Emerson Oxlade.”
Arthur’s eyes snapped open. “She’s insane, Mr. Sage. There is no knowing what is going on in her disordered mind. I’m afraid she can no longer distinguish the difference between dreams and reality.”
“So we’re told.”
“You are showing a great deal of interest in the details of this case. You sound more like a detective than a research assistant.”
Sam took another swallow of his drink. “I’m concerned with the details because Miss Lodge was nearly murdered. If you were in my position, I think you would be equally interested.”
“I see,” Arthur said. “Your relationship with Miss Lodge is personal as well as professional, then?”
“Very personal,” Sam said. “I assume that answers your question?”
“My question?”
“You invited me here for drinks and a private conversation today because you want to know how things stand between Maggie and me.”
“I am curious, yes.”
“Because you’re attracted to her?”
“On many levels,” Arthur admitted. “Maggie is a very intriguing woman. Has she told you she and I share a talent for lucid dreaming?”
“You think you can use her talent here at the Institute, don’t you?”
“I admit I would very much like to have her on my staff.”
“Forget it,” Sam said. “I accepted your invitation because I’ve got a question of my own.”
Arthur looked at him. “What is that, Mr. Sage?”
“I understand Dolores’s motive for murdering those women, but why would she kill Oxlade? I got the impression the two of you needed him and his credentials as a respected dream analyst to enhance the image of the Institute and the Guilfoyle Method.”
“You have it backward,” Arthur said. “We didn’t need him as much as he needed us. Oxlade was difficult, to say the least. All he cared about was proving that his theories of lucid dreaming were valid. I’m sure Miss Lodge told you he lost his temper after the private demonstration.”
“Because you went off script and said the Traveler was planning to murder a woman here at the Institute.”
“I took a little dramatic license and made the prediction about the Traveler,” Arthur said. “I’m an actor at heart, Mr. Sage. I know when I’m not connecting with my audience. I sensed my performance needed a shot of excitement. Energy. Oxlade took offense at what he deemed my nonscientific approach.”
“I got the impression that until that night he believed you really were capable of extreme lucid dreaming, that you could take it to a higher plane and access your psychic side.”
Arthur chuckled. “I just told you, I’m an actor.”
“I get it. Was it hard to fool Oxlade?”
“Not at all. In some ways he was the easiest person to deceive. For a good actor, it’s the simplest thing in the world to fool someone like Oxlade. He wanted desperately to believe his drug worked. I gave him reasons to believe that.”
“But all the enhancer does is cause a person to hallucinate.”
“Yes.” Arthur smiled. “But it provides a very interesting experience if it is given under controlled conditions. I’ve used it a few times, myself. It makes most people extremely suggestible. Takes a strong talent to control it. I can handle the hallucinations and visions. I’m sure Miss Lodge can, as well. But you are not a powerful lucid dreamer, are you?”
Sam frowned, blinked a few times, and pressed his glass against his forehead. “You thought the drug would be useful for promoting the Guilfoyle Method.”
Arthur watched him with an air of anticipation. “Extremely useful.”