Falling Awake

real or imagined.”
    “In other words, he’s got his own theory about Client Number Three and it doesn’t align with yours.”
    “He sure isn’t going for the idea that Vincent Scargill is Number Three or that Scargill was the one who murdered Hardy.”
    She widened her hands. “So what if Lawson has his own theory about who killed poor Gavin? The bottom line is that he’s agreed to let you investigate.”
    “Like I said, it’s not quite that clear-cut.” Ellis drank some tea and then lowered the cup with great care. “He told me to stick close to you because he thinks you’re our best lead.”
    “Oh, wow.” Excitement spiraled up inside her.
    He watched from behind the dark glasses. “On that point, Lawson and I happen to agree.”
    “Oh, wow .” It was all she could do to stay in her seat and try to look professional. “I get to assist you with your investigation?”
    He raised his brows. “You’re a lead, not an assistant.”
    Her spirits plummeted. “Oh.”

    “But I would very much appreciate your cooperation,” he added softly.
    Be bold, she thought. This is your big chance. You’re a freelance dreamer now with a skill set to sell. You’re in a position to negotiate. But what if he calls my bluff?
    Nothing ventured, nothing gained, etc., etc., she reminded herself. You’re supposed to be a future Kyler Method instructor. Think positive.
    “I could cooperate a lot more effectively if I were actively assisting you in your investigation,” she said, going for super cool.
    His expression tightened. “Isabel—”
    “I’m serious, Ellis. I realize I haven’t had any field experience, but I’ve got a lot of Level Five dream experience. Also, I know more about the inner workings of the center than you do because I was inside it for a year. And when it comes to Dr. B., I’ve got more context than you could possibly have. I worked side by side with the man for months. Face it, you need me.”
    “There’s a lot you don’t know about this situation.”
    She spread her hands. “Okay, fine. So fill me in.”
    He looked at her for a long time, not speaking. She knew he was once again deliberating how much to tell her. The habit was becoming annoying.
    Seconds stretched out into a full minute of silence.
    Isabel sighed, sat back and held up her hand, palm out. “That’s it, I’ve had enough of operating on a need-to-know basis, especially when I don’t agree with you or Lawson on what I need to know. Either start treating me like an equal and a professional orfind yourself another Level Five dream analyst who is sufficiently familiar with this case to help you conduct an investigation.”
    His brows rose above his dark glasses. “There is no one else I can substitute and you know it.”
    She smiled grimly. “Yep.”
    “You’re playing hardball again, aren’t you?”
    She shrugged.
    “Thought so. Getting pretty damn good at it, too.” Ellis went quiet for another few seconds. “You handled yourself well with the cops last night,” he said eventually.
    She got the feeling that observation was important.
    “Thank you,” she murmured.
    Another long moment slipped past. She realized she was holding her breath. And then Ellis inclined his head once, very deliberately, in acceptance of her terms.
    “Right.” He extended his legs and braced his elbows on the arms of the chair, fingertips pressed together. “You are now officially assisting me in this investigation.”
    She tried not to let her eagerness show. Composing herself, she folded her arms on top of the closed manual and assumed a serious, attentive expression.
    Ellis tapped his fingers together once. “I told you last night that Vincent Scargill is supposed to be dead.”
    “But you don’t believe that.”
    “No.”
    She waited.
    “The first thing you need to know about this case is that Lawsonand Beth think I’ve developed an unhealthy obsession,” Ellis said neutrally. “They believe I’m suffering from some form of post-traumatic stress syndrome and that it has affected my Level Five dreaming capabilities in such a way that I’ve created a fantasy version of what really happened to Vincent Scargill.”
    “I’m listening.”
    He fixed his gaze on the bay. “You know how Scargill came to work at Frey-Salter.”
    “Dr. B. found him and sent him to Lawson.”
    “Scargill was twenty at the time.” The corner of Ellis’s mouth turned up slightly in a humorless smile. “He reminded me of myself at that