Dream Eyes

earlier script for
Dead
. I hadn’t heard from Evelyn in a while, but that wasn’t unusual. I just assumed she was consumed with her research. When she got caught up in a project, she became very, very focused.”
    “Are you talking about her research for
Dead of Night
?”
    “No,” Gwen said. “She just took that job to pay the bills. Her real passion was serious research into the paranormal. She set up an entire lab out at the old lodge near the falls. That’s where she spent most of her time.”
    “When was the last time you heard from her?”
    “I got a very cryptic e-mail message from her late last night telling me that she had stumbled onto something very important. She wanted to talk about it in person, not over the phone.” Gwen looked out the side window at the river. “But I didn’t read my e-mail until this morning. I tried to call her immediately, but by then it was too late.”
    He caught the faint tremor in her voice.
    “There was nothing you could have done,” he said quietly.
    “I know.” Gwen trapped her hands between her knees and continued to stare out the window at the river. “I know.”
    Brooding on what ifs never went well, he thought. He should know. The solution, he had learned, was to stay focused on the present.
    “Let’s stick with what we have,” he said. “You’re thinking that if Ballinger was murdered, there may be a connection to whatever she was working on just before her death.”
    “Yes.” Gwen turned back to look at him. “You heard me tell Wesley that her computer was missing. Her cell phone was gone, too.”
    “I agree that under the circumstances that needs some explaining. You don’t trust Thor—Lancaster—do you?”
    Gwen winced. “I wouldn’t say that, not exactly. It’s just that when you’re dealing with Wesley, you have to keep in mind that he always has an agenda and that he’ll do or say whatever it is he needs to do or say to get what he wants. The trick to dealing with him is to remember that the most important thing in his world is the future of
Dead of Night
. If you filter everything through that lens, you can work with him. He’s no worse than any other career-obsessed person, male or female. In fact, I’ve met worse.”
    “Got any specific reasons for not trusting him?”
    Gwen was silent for a few seconds.
    “I guess I’ll have to go with the obvious answer,” she said. “Female intuition.”
    “I respect intuition,” he said. “But I like hard facts, too. Correct me if I’m wrong, but earlier I got the impression that you and Lancaster have some history that involves more than a business association.”
    “Two years ago, when we met here in Wilby, he tried to get me into bed.”
    Judson’s gut tightened. “Do you distrust every man who wants to sleep with you?”
    “Only when the man in question neglects to mention that he’s married. That tends to piss me off.”
    Judson exhaled slowly and loosened his death grip on the wheel.
    “Okay,” he said. “I get that. So, did you find out about the wife before or after?”
    She gave him a cold glance. “It’s not really any of your business, is it?”
    “No. But I am a trained psychic investigator. I tend to be curious by nature.”
Especially when it comes to you,
he added silently. “Sorry. You’re right. Not my business. Moving right along—”
    “Before.”
    “What?”
    “I found out that Wesley was married before our relationship progressed to the physical stage,” she said stiffly.
    “Is he still married?”
    “No. Evelyn mentioned several months ago that Wesley and his wife were divorced.”
    “Was Lancaster here in Wilby two years ago when the deaths occurred?”
    “Yes,” Gwen said. “He was here.”
    “Now there’s been another death and Lancaster is here again.”
    “I noticed that amazing coincidence, myself,” Gwen said. “Here we are. That’s the Wilby General Store. You can park in front. We’re in time. Luckily Buddy doesn’t close much before five-thirty.”

Six
    B uddy Poole, proprietor of the Wilby General Store, leaned on the counter and peered at Gwen over the rims of gold-framed reading glasses.
    “So, you took Evelyn’s cat, eh?” he said. “That’s mighty noble of you, but I’d better warn you up front Max is used to the expensive stuff. The high-end cat food, canned wild salmon and the good tuna fish. Evelyn always bought him the best—same brands that people eat. Gotta tell ya, my dogs don’t eat nearly as