I guided Ingrid through the arched wall and into the lounge.
“Are you not feeling well?” she asked. “You look a little rough.”
“I . . . drank too much last night. My own fault.”
“Hair of the dog often helps.”
“Excuse me?”
“Another drink,” she said.
“Yes, of course. No, it’s better I stay away from . . .”
I was disturbed to pick up more of Alex’s thoughts. He was considering a visit to Belshazzar’s, and I had no idea he even knew the place existed.
Had he read my mind? Had my nightmares reveled in its existence?
“Water is probably a better idea,” Ingrid said.
“Yes, right.”
Alex appeared at the archway. “You were at Belshazzar’s last night? Why didn’t you tell me you saw him?”
I glanced at Ingrid. “Alex, this is not a good time.”
“Catherine?” Alex said. “Was she there?”
“We’ll discuss this later, Alex.” A startling vision swept through. “When did he come to you?” I was shocked to sense this. I responded to Ingrid’s quizzical expression. “It’s brother stuff.”
She looked thoughtful. “Belshazzar’s. That’s that club Mr. Teddington mentioned in the gallery.”
“It’s members only.” I hoped this would put her off.
“Sounds alluring,” she said.
“It’s not. I highly recommend avoiding the place.”
“Why?”
I thought carefully. “Because—”
“I was going to tell you, eventually,” Alex said. “When were you going to tell me?”
“Alex, this is hardly the time,” I said.
He frowned, conveying the seriousness of this conversation, one which I couldn’t have Ingrid witness.
I sighed. “Alex, I had every intention . . .”
“Where is it again?” Ingrid said.
“The crowd is sinister and the food is . . .”
“I specialize in sinister.” She studied me.
“Ingrid, I’m not asking you to stay away from Belshazzar’s, I’m telling you.”
She gave a look of mock offense.