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He frowned at the menu. “I didn’t know this place was vegetarian.”
That settled the matter. If there was any intimacy in the atmosphere, Ambrose was immune to it.
“You should have paid closer attention to the front desk clerk when we discussed restaurant options in the neighborhood,” she said.
“I was trying to do the gentlemanly thing and leave the decision to you. I should have known better. Apparently no polite deed goes unpunished.”
“For future reference, I lean vegetarian.”
He looked at her over the top of the menu. He wasn’t exactly smiling, she decided, but there was definitely a gleam of laughter in his eyes.
“I’ll remember that,” he said.
She wasn’t sure how to take the casual comment. It seemed to imply that he anticipated they would be eating several more meals together—maybe an indefinite number of meals.
Ruthlessly she squashed the speculation. There was no reason to try to read his thoughts. This wasn’t a date.
Stick to business.
“Earlier you said we need to find out more about the patient in room B,” she said. “Got any ideas short of breaking into the sleep clinic and trying to find a file on her? Not that I’m opposed to a little B and E in this case. It’s just that it sounds a tad risky.”
“I don’t think there’s any point breaking into the clinic. Got a feeling Fenner and crew will have destroyed any evidence relating to the patient in B. But with a little more data, Calvin the Magnificent might be able to come up with some information for us.”
“The tech wizard you mentioned?”
“He does research for Failure Analysis.”
“That’s the security firm you worked for, isn’t it?”
“Right. Calvin can do amazing things online, but he needs something to work with. I haven’t been able to give him anything he can use, just the fact that there was a woman in room B that night. He did go into the Institute’s online records, but he found zilch.”
“So how do we get more data?”
The server arrived to take their drink orders. Pallas chose a glass of red wine. Ambrose requested the same. When the server departed he turned back to Pallas.
“I think the next step is to talk to some of the staff at the clinic,” he said.
“I saw only two people in addition to Fenner today—the receptionist and the woman who found us in the wrong hallway.”
“Jodi Luckhurst.”
“I think she’s our best bet,” Pallas said. “Forget trying to charm the receptionist. She looked mean.”
“She did, didn’t she?” Ambrose said. “I agree Jodi is a better bet.”
“When you think about it, there don’t seem to be a lot of people employed at the Institute,” Pallas said. “Does that strike you as strange?”
“Not particularly. It’s obviously a small operation.”
“You said your brother found the Institute online and thought it was a good fit for you,” Pallas said.
“Because of its emphasis on dream disorders,” Ambrose said.
Pallas paused to drink some wine. “Did you ever tell your family about what happened during your very bad night at the Institute?”
Ambrose snorted. “What do you think?”
“You did not tell anyone, not even your own family, that you’re convinced you were a witness at a murder scene in the clinic, because it would make you look even more mentally unstable.”
