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Ambrose glanced at her. “You’re right. For what it’s worth, I’m pretty sure Serenity No-Last-Name was being truthful when she said she wasn’t aware of a recent disappearance out at the asylum.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“She was also telling us the truth when she said she believes in the paranormal.”
“Well, that’s not surprising, either, is it?” Pallas said. “It explains her career path. She believes in her products and she’s on a mission to put good energy out in the world. I used to be on a similar mission, back when I was able to devote myself to my work.”
“I came across your website when I did some background checking on you. You’re an interior designer. A successful one, from what I could tell.”
“I was doing well,” Pallas said. “Right up until Lucent Springs. Since then my career has been on a downward trajectory. I can’t blame that entirely on Lucent Springs, however. It was my own fault. I made a bad business decision shortly before my amnesia episode.”
“What kind of decision?” Ambrose asked.
She hesitated but then reminded herself that he had confided to her that his own career was in trouble because of writer’s block.
“I was seeing someone at the time, an architect,” she said. “We collaborated on a small boutique hotel project. The clients were pleased. I let Theo talk me into signing a contract with his firm. Unfortunately I didn’t consult a lawyer. I thought I was going to become an equal partner. I found out too late I had a fancy title but no real power. I was assigned a project that I absolutely hated. And then Lucent Springs happened.”
“What was the project?” Ambrose asked.
“Let’s just say happy chickens, laughing pigs, and cheerful cows were involved.”
“I don’t follow.”
She sighed. “I was supposed to design the interiors for a chain of fast-food restaurants. The company execs wanted the logo incorporated into everything—tables, walls, trays, even the restrooms. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to come up with a lot of ways to use images of chickens, pigs, and cows looking delighted by the prospect of winding up in burgers and breakfast patties?”
“You refused to do it.”
“Theo was furious, because the client had seen my work and made it clear he wanted me on the project. But by then I was dealing with the fallout from Lucent Springs, so I was not at my best in terms of emotional balance. Theo and I had a terrible fight. He told me my energy-balancing theories were pure bullshit. Woo-woo nonsense. He suggested I might be delusional—well, he didn’t suggest it. He stated it.”
“You told him how you work?” Ambrose asked.
“Obviously that was a mistake. But up until then he pretended totake my claims seriously. In our last huge fight the truth came out. On top of everything else I discovered he was having an affair with one of the junior architects. That did it. I told him to tear up the contract or sue me. I didn’t care. I was never going to do another project with him again.”
That was not the whole story of the final confrontation with Theo. It didn’t include the part where she had terrified him. But it was enough. She and Ambrose were working together, but that did not mean she had to share her secrets.
Ambrose looked intrigued. “You were heartbroken?”
“No. I was too pissed to be heartbroken. I was also embarrassed. Humiliated. Most of all I was horrified to find out I had been so incredibly naive. As I said, I was in bad shape because of Lucent Springs. Deep down I wondered if Theo was right. Maybe I was delusional. I mean, how does one know?”
“I think it’s time you told me about Lucent Springs.”
“I think you’re right.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Amelia, Talia, andI lost most of a day and a night in the ruins of an old, abandoned hotel out in the Southern California desert,” Pallas said. “Our story has several parallels with your very bad trip to San Diego.”
“All three of you suffered an episode of amnesia?” Ambrose said around a bite of pizza. Sunlight sparked on his dark glasses. “On the same night?”
“That’s what the emergency room doctor told us,” Pallas said. “He had a little trouble explaining why the three of us had lost the same night, of course. I think he privately thought it was some form of group hysteria or that we had gotten very drunk and blacked out. But he was smart enough not to say that out loud.”
They were sitting at a picnic table in a small park on the edge of the campus, two large coffees and a supersized pizza between them. Ambrose had ordered pepperoni on his half. Her side was topped with olives and a scattering of hot peppers.
Ambrose regarded her through his dark glasses. “Did the doctor tell you anything else?”
“No. Mostly we wanted to be assured that we hadn’t been drugged and assaulted. We were told there were no signs of physical injury, and the drug tests came back negative.”
“Drug tests can be inconclusive, especially if you don’t know what to test for. He probably just went for the standard stuff. Any bruises indicating injection sites?”
