“I guess so. It must have. After all, a hasty marriage violates Core Principle Number One:Do not mistake impulse for true intuition. But I can’t remember asking any questions.” She hesitated. “To be honest, there’s a lot I can’t recall about my time with Travis. I think the meds that Dr. Webber forced on me must have caused some amnesia.”
He reflected on that briefly. “Interesting. When did things start to clear up?”
“The day after my wedding when I woke up in the cell at SerenityGardens. And before you ask, I don’t have any clear memories of my wedding night. Most of what I know I’ve had to piece together from what Webber told me and the little I’ve been able to learn since I escaped. After Travis jumped off the roof of that horrible hotel, Dunstan Kelbrook stepped in and had me committed. He told the authorities that it was his responsibility as the head of the family to protect me and the Kelbrook name. If I went to trial for murder, there would be an even bigger scandal. Much better for everyone involved if I vanished quietly into an asylum where I could—and I quote—‘get the help I needed.’ ”
“People are conveniently forgotten after they are committed.”
“Dr. Webber said I should be grateful because I wouldn’t have to stand trial and go to prison. I was so much better off in the para-psych hospital, he said. They dosed me with drugs to keep my talent flatlined. Webber claimed he had proof the meds worked.”
“What was the proof?”
“In spite of my unfortunate tendency to lose control of my para-senses and become homicidal, I didn’t attempt to murder anyone while in Serenity Gardens. Yay me.”
He smiled briefly at the sarcasm. “I saw Webber’s notes. He continued to update them after you disappeared. He did a very thorough job of the cover-up. Made it look like you were still locked up and undergoing rigorous therapy.”
“You really did read my file at Serenity Gardens?” she asked.
For the first time, she sounded impressed.
“Yes,” he said, “although there wasn’t a lot of information aside from Webber’s observations of shattered senses, delirium, and psychic fragility. He made it very clear that in his professional opinion you would not recover from the breakdown and would continue to be a threat to yourself and others.”
“How did you get hold of my file?”
“I paid a visit to Serenity Gardens.”
“You met Webber?”
“No. He was gone by the time I arrived. He disappeared immediately after Kelbrook discovered that you were missing. It was a smart move on Webber’s part, because Kelbrook is furious.”
“Who’s in charge of Serenity Gardens now?”
“One of the doctors. Matheson. He was confused and disoriented because of the sudden promotion, which is why it was easy for me to get access to your files.”
“How easy?” Alice asked, deeply suspicious.
“He may have been under the impression that I was your lawyer.”
“You lied to him?”
“Yep.”
“I understand, believe me,” she said quickly. “I know how you feel. I’ve been living a lie for months now. It wears on one, doesn’t it? Very stressful. Does it affect your dreams?”
“Can’t say that it does.”You are the one who haunts my dreams, Alice Radstone.
She had started out as a mystery woman who had intrigued him in part simply because she had managed to disappear for seven months without Kelbrook noticing. By the end of the first day of his investigation, however, Alice had metamorphosed into a figure of fascination.
He had told himself that she was just another case—intriguing and a pleasant break from his usual diet of serial killers and obsessed ancestry buffs. It didn’t hurt that she was attractive in a quiet but intense way. Something to do with her eyes, he decided. So earnest and honest and yet lit with power. The combination was beyond compelling. It was thrilling.
That first night she had walked through his dreams promising answers to questions he had struggled to bury after a wasted month at the private hospital. The following night she had returned, and this time she had offered something more—the possibility of connection.
He had told himself he was fantasizing, creating a fictional dreamwoman. But Alice was proving to be very, very real and so much more captivating than the fantasy.
“I see,” she said. She evidently made the decision to move on. “I don’t remember a Dr. Matheson. The only doctor I ever saw was Webber.”
“That was by design, I’m sure. Webber wouldn’t have wanted another doctor questioning his diagnosis. But let’s try to focus on you. According to the wedding license and what little I could find online, Travis Poole taught chemistry at a small college in Resonance City. There’s no record of any other marriages. No close family. His mother died a few years ago. His father was listed as unknown. I did not find anything that linked him to the Kelbrook family—not until Dunstan Kelbrook stepped in to take charge of you on your wedding night.”
“Why would a wealthy, powerful man like Dunstan Kelbrook want to claim someone like Travis as a relative?”
