I wandered up and down the hallway, going into all the shops and restaurants, and looking at everything. A couple of costumed clerks took an interest in me, pulling out their phones and texting as I roamed around their shops, but no one actually followed me, so I felt safe enough to keep going.

   As I moved from one area to the next, I put myself in Deirdre’s shoes, trying to figure out where I would hide a sack full of precious stones. But the more I looked, the more frustrated I became. So many people and so many staff members were constantly moving through the lobby, hallways, and shops. Even in the wee hours of the morning, a few folks would still be out and about, cleaning, straightening up, and getting ready for the next business day. I couldn’t imagine Deirdre’s stashing the jewels without someone realizing what she was doing, much less their staying hidden for so long with no one finding them, especially given the highly publicized treasure hunt and how hard folks had been searching, including Roxy and Brody.

   Or maybe Deirdre Shaw was just that much more clever than I was, and I’d never find the stones.

   Either way, my frustration had morphed into a mixture of anger, disgust, and depression by the time I reached the end of the hallway where Ira Morris’s office was. I peered through the glass door, but the office was dark. No one was home. I seriously doubted that Deirdre had hidden anything in there, given that Ira hated her for demoting him to this hole in the wall, but it was worth a shot. Besides, it was the only place in my section that I hadn’t looked yet.

   The hallway was deserted, so I reached for my magic, letting it pool in the palm of my hand. A second later, I was clutching two slender Ice picks, which I inserted into the lock. It snicked open less than a minute later, and I slipped through to the other side, making sure to shut and lock the door behind me.

   There were no windows, so I was forced to turn on the lights. Besides, the mood I was in, I just didn’t care if anyone realized that I’d broken in here. I squinted against the sudden glare, staring out at the mess. Stacks of papers everywhere, framed photos crammed together on the walls, cameras, lenses, and other photography equipment scattered here and there. How could the dwarf possibly find anything in here? But there was nothing for me to do but tiptoe into the trenches.

   So I looked at the first towering stack of papers that I came to, then the next, then the next. To my surprise, all of them had to do with the resort business. Supply invoices, shipping notices, pay stubs. I even found a couple of thick ledgers where guests had scrawled their names upon checking into the hotel thirty years ago. Seemed like Ira Morris was a pack rat who never threw anything away, just like Fletcher. Thinking about the old man brought a smile to my face and eased some of my anger.

   Still, after about fifteen minutes of searching, I gave up. If Deirdre had hidden the jewels in here, they were buried under so many papers that I’d need a bulldozer to unearth them. I turned around to leave the office, having to sidestep all the stacks of papers I’d passed on the way in. I moved to my left, which put me close to one of the walls. A gleam of glass caught my eye, and I looked up at the picture closest to me.

   Deirdre Shaw stared down at me.

   I gasped and stopped so suddenly that I almost knocked over a paper tower that was taller than I was. Even then, I had to lunge forward, grab, and steady it. When I was sure that the papers weren’t going to come crashing down, I let go and stared up at the photo.

   It must have been taken the day Deirdre bought the resort because she looked to be in her early twenties. She was holding a giant pair of scissors and cutting through a big swath of red tape, even as she smiled and stared straight into the camera. Her pale blue eyes seemed to be directly focused on mine, and I shivered, a little creeped out by this particular ghost.

   But then a thought occurred to me—if Ira had this photo of Deirdre, then maybe he had others. We hadn’t found any pictures in her suite, but maybe some were in here that I could swipe and give to Finn. Oh, the pictures wouldn’t answer any of his questions about his mother, but at least our trip down here wouldn’t have been a complete bust.

   My heart lifting, I looked at the surrounding pictures, but they were just shots of the hotel, the theme park, and all the people who’d visited them over the years. All the photos were quite lovely, especially the scenic shots, but I didn’t see Deirdre in any of them—

   Click.

   I froze, recognizing the distinctive sound of a key turning in a lock and knowing exactly what was going to happen next.

   Sure enough, a second later, Ira Morris opened the door and stepped into his office.

   The dwarf was wearing more or less the same thing that he had yesterday—black cowboy boots, black jeans, and a Christmas sweater, this one a bright red and patterned with silver snowflakes trimmed with flashing white lights. Even the snowflakes on his red suspenders had tiny lights on them. What was it with people and all these cheesy holiday sweaters?

   Ira blinked, surprised to find me in here, but that emotion quickly melted into outright anger that made his hazel eyes glow almost as bright as the lights on his sweater and suspenders. Of course it did. Because that’s the way these things always went in my life.

   “What are you doing in my office?” he snapped.

   I could have lied. I probably should have lied. After all, I still didn’t know if Ira was working for Tucker too. But after realizing that Tucker had lured us down here to take part in his twisted treasure hunt, and wasting all that time searching Deirdre’s suite yesterday, I was a bit angry myself.

   So instead of spinning some weak web of lies that the dwarf would see right through anyway, I shrugged. “Looking for Sweet Sally Sue’s jewels. What else?”

   “And you think that they’re in here?” Ira let out a harsh, bitter laugh. “Trust me. If those rocks were in here, I would have found them, hocked them, and left this miserable place a long, long time ago.”

   I glanced around at all the resort photos on the walls and all the stacks of papers chronicling its history, one receipt, pay stub, and guest signature at a time. “No, I don’t think that you would have.”