Free Hidden in Dreams by Davis Bunn Page B

arriving at the police station. “We’re missing something.”
    Jacob asked, “You mean, about the attack?”
    “This plane,” Elena replied.
    “What about it?”
    “How much do you think it costs?”
    “A Gulfstream Five, top of the line, looks brand-new.” Jacob shrugged. “Twenty, maybe twenty-five. Why?”
    Bob Meadows said, “Twenty-five million ?”
    “What did you think, thousand?”
    “Man, whose life did you drop in on?”
    “The Discovery Channel has three of them. Not as nice, but hey, after a while they’re all just another limo with wings.” Jacob turned his attention back to Elena. “Go on.”
    “It’s not just the plane. It’s everything to do with Rachel Lamprey.”
    Bob asked, “Who?”
    “She’s the SuenaMed exec who got us this ride,” Jacob said impatiently. “Let the lady finish.”
    Between sips of her tea, Elena related how she had come to know Rachel, and about the initial contact. The first patient, her own dream, and the mounting pressure Rachel had exerted. “All the while, her company is bearing down on their biggest product launch in decades.”
    Jacob snapped his fingers. “Sure. SuenaMind. I’ve been reading about this. It’s huge.”
    Bob asked, “Rachel Lamprey is responsible for SuenaMind?”
    “She is the senior product director.”
    “So what is she doing, working on this dream issue?”
    “That is exactly my point.” Elena drank again, or started to, then noticed that her cup was empty.
    Jacob rose and took it from her. “More honey?”
    “Please.”
    He swiftly returned. “You’re saying Rachel Lamprey is behind the attack tonight?”
    “I’m saying it’s a vital issue. We’re all clinicians. We’re trained to look in the direction that our patient does not want us to go. See beneath the surface.” She paused for a sip. “The attack happened with pinpoint accuracy. They knew about the meeting with the senator. Whom did you tell?”
    “Me?” Bob Meadows shook his head. “Not a soul. Not even my secretary. That was part of my arrangement with the senator.”
    “Jacob?”
    “I phoned my office before we left for Miami. I’ll miss appointments tomorrow morning. But I didn’t tell them about the Ritz.”
    “The only person I contacted was Rachel. I didn’t tell her where precisely we were headed, just that we were driving to Miami for a meeting.”
    “They could have followed us down,” Jacob said.
    “Perhaps.” Images of the attack flashed through her mind. She set down the cup, her stomach suddenly very queasy. “They were probably waiting for us to emerge with the car, then decided hitting us on the sidewalk was even better.”
    “But why would Rachel demand you become involved in all this, then set us up for an attack?”
    “That,” Elena replied, “is the first question I intend to ask.”
    •    •    •
    The plane landed at Orlando’s second airport, the one closer to downtown. They were met by a limo and a nervous young aide who apologized for Rachel’s absence, but she had become tied up in a meeting that would go on for hours more.
    The aide drove with them to the Renaissance and saw them checked into a trio of suites. The three of them bid one another a weary good night. Jacob and Bob were busy on their cell phones as they let themselves into their rooms. The next day was Saturday, so Elena had no need to check in with the college. No one waiting for her at home. No one who might worry over where she had been, or was going.
    She filled the bath and used the plastic vial of bath oils. The water was spicy and inviting. She felt her muscles gradually relax in the heat. When the water cooled she bundled herself into a fluffy hotel robe and slipped into bed. She could feel the little jerks of tension pull at her muscles. It was unlikely she would sleep well, or for very long. She was glad merely for solitude and safety.
    Her questions danced in the dark room. She decided that Rachel Lamprey was not behind the