“To you, being captured is the equivalent of being killed?”

She looked at him, surprised. Then she gave a short jerk of the head. “You’re right,” she said. “Or close enough.”

“And Lemuel found you?”

“He’d already been to the house and back by the time I got to the motel,” she said. “He rearranged the body, rather than trying to get rid of it. There was no way I could have taken the time to do that. For one thing, I wasn’t sure Falco was alone.”

“You thought there might be more than one guy there?”

“He was alone, but he could have had a team circling the block or parked nearby.”

“So we’re back where we started, at least as far as finding the jewelry I supposedly stole.”

“Yeah.” Olivia slumped in her chair, which made her look younger and less in control. Manfred much preferred Olivia the other way. He knew that competent, cold Olivia better.

After a moment or two, she said, “I think this means that sooner or later they’re going to come check you out. They don’t know why I was at the Goldthorpes’, they just know I was at the hotel, but sooner or later my father’ll think of looking at you.”

“Should I be worried about that?” Manfred asked, trying to sound like he wasn’t anxious already.

“Yes,” she said. “We all should. If the Rev is flipping out about there being reporters here to cover the story you’re a part of . . . he’ll go ballistic if my father’s people come around.”

“Because they’re much more scary?”

“So much more,” she said, simply stating a fact. “We’ve got to figure out another way to get at this problem. I don’t know that it’ll draw them off, but we have to make progress. It’s too bad we can’t just . . .”

Manfred, who’d been refilling Olivia’s coffee cup, looked up to find out why she’d stopped. She was staring at Manfred as though he’d sprouted a horn.

“What?” he said.

“Get her husband to tell you,” Olivia said.

“What?”

“Where the damn jewelry is, of course! You’re a medium. Call Rachel up, however you do it. Or her husband, what’s his name?”

“Morton. I can try,” Manfred said. He felt like smacking himself on the forehead. “It would help if we could get someone near to her to cooperate, but I’m sure her daughters wouldn’t want anything to do with a séance. And Lewis is out of the question.”

“So maybe just you and me could do it?”

“I think we need someone a little more . . . in tune,” Manfred said, not quite sure how to put it.

“Someone more spiritual,” Olivia said evenly.

He nodded. “Joe or Chuy,” he said.

“What’s spiritual about those two?” she said.

“I’m not sure what they are . . .”

“Two nice gay guys,” she said.

“More than that.”

She threw up her hands. “All right, then! I’ll call them! Tonight, okay? Or do you have something more important to do?” Heavy on the sarcasm.

“Tonight would be fine, and we can have it here,” he said, deliberately keeping his voice relaxed.

“See you then, and I’m having a nap in between,” she snapped, and left as suddenly as she’d come.

13

Joe put his cell phone in his pocket and turned to Chuy. “We’ve been invited to a séance tonight,” he said.

Chuy, who was making a salad for their lunch, finished chopping the chicken and added it to the raw spinach and the toasted pecans. He began halving the grapes. “That’s a first,” he said. “What do you think? Is this really something we should do?”

Joe considered it. “It’s not like we didn’t know there are ghosts all around us,” he said. “We see them every day.”

Chuy tilted the cutting board to add the grapes. “Bacos?” he asked. “I’m assuming it was Manfred who called?”

“Yes to the Bacos, and no to Manfred,” Joe said. “Here’s the surprise. It was Olivia.” He gave Chuy his amazed face, and Chuy laughed. But then he said, “Poor Olivia.”

Joe nodded. “I think we should help them out. It’s not like they ever asked us for anything.”

Chuy began drizzling on a honey-based dressing. “All right, sweetie. By the way, have you been over to the hotel yet?”

“Not since you and I took the tour with Ms. Whatever.”

“There are three old people in there, and two geek-type people doing contract work with Magic Portal. There’s one man whose purpose I can’t discern.”

They sat down at the table and Joe served himself from the bowl. “This looks great, Chuy. Do you think we need to do anything about this one man?”

“I think we need to find out what he’s up to. We have to protect the boy.”

“We do,” Joe agreed. “Okay, I’ll see what’s up at the hotel.”

“Good. I have an appointment this afternoon, Myra Shellenbarger.”

“She’s fun,” Joe said, smiling. “She knows everything going on in a twenty-mile radius.”

“Or farther. And she’s not afraid to name names.” Chuy smiled back. “I like her. What you see is what you get.”

“It can be tiring knowing so many people with hidden depths,” Joe said. “Some days, shallow is good. This salad is great, by the way.”