Falling Awake

went wrong. She did not want anything to spoil this perfect dream night.
    “Not now.” She drew her fingertips down his chest. “There’s no need. Go to sleep.”
    “You’re sure you don’t want to talk?”
    “Positive.”
    “Just as well, I’m not feeling real coherent at the moment,” he said in a voice that was already thickening with sleep. Hetightened his arm around her, pulling her closer to him. “Don’t go anywhere, okay?”
    An odd request, she thought.
    “I’m not going anywhere,” she promised softly.
    That seemed to satisfy him. He relaxed immediately and she knew that he slept.
    It was a while before she managed to drift off into slumber. A part of her resisted closing her eyes. She was afraid she would wake up in the morning and discover that it had all been a dream.

22
    i ’m worried about Isabel,” Leila announced. She put the day’s edition of the Roxanna Beach Courier aside and reached for her glass of orange juice.
    On the other side of the table, Farrell glanced up from the financial documents he was studying. She noticed that, in spite of his air of distraction and secretiveness these days, he was paying attention.
    “Because she knew that guy who got run down out on the old highway or because of her connection to Ellis Cutler?” he asked.
    “Both. But mostly because of Cutler.”
    She put down the orange juice glass without taking a sip, picked up a spoon and toyed with her cereal. Her appetite had disappeared in the last few weeks. She had lost five pounds. She told herself she was either dying of some dreadful, as yetundiagnosed disease or she was depressed because Farrell was getting ready to tell her that he wanted a divorce. She was not sure which news would be harder to take.
    Farrell drank some coffee and briefly considered. “Cutler is definitely not her usual type, is he?”
    “No, and that’s what’s worrying me. All this talk of hiring Isabel as a freelance dream analyst is just plain weird. He doesn’t appear to be some New Age type who would take the psychic thing seriously. He seems too tough and smart for that nonsense.” She broke off, trying to find the words. “He looks dangerous, to tell you the truth. The whole situation strikes me as very strange.”
    Farrell did not bother to hide his amusement. “You have to admit that there’s always been something a bit strange about your sister. Maybe it’s a case of weirdness attracting weirdness.”
    The anger boiled up out of nowhere. “Isabel isn’t weird, she’s just different, that’s all.”
    “Whoa.” Farrell held up both hands, palms out. “I take it back. I was just trying to inject a little humor into the discussion. Sorry.”
    Leila took a deep, steadying breath. She and Farrell had always prided themselves on their ability to communicate. They rarely quarreled until the last few months. But lately it took very little provocation to make her snap at him.
    “Isabel has always marched to a different drummer,” Leila said wearily. “She’s always had a fixation with dreams. But that does not make her a flake.”
    “I know. I apologize.”

    “I’m going to ask someone in HR to run a background check on Ellis Cutler. The kind we do on new hires. I want to at least be sure he doesn’t have a criminal record.”
    Farrell shrugged and stuffed the financial papers into his briefcase. “Suit yourself. My guess is you won’t find anything.”
    “Why do you say that?”
    “Just a gut feeling. If Cutler has buried a few bodies along the way, he’ll have made certain they are deep enough that no one can find them with a simple background check.”
    The spoon quivered in her hand. “Farrell, do you really think it’s possible that he might have killed some people? Or are you just joking?”
    Farrell actually hesitated a moment, head tilted slightly to the side, while he contemplated the question. She suddenly felt ill. Regardless of what was going on in their personal life, she trusted his judgment in such things. It did not bode well that he had to stop and think about the question.
    “It’s possible,” he said finally. “But I wouldn’t worry about it, if I were you.”
    “For heaven’s sake, why shouldn’t I worry about it?”
    His smile was wry. “Because if Cutler did get rid of some folks, there were no doubt very compelling reasons.”
    “How can you say such a thing?”
    “Give your sister some credit.” He got to his feet and picked up his briefcase. “In spite