Hadley made a small noise and grabbed his arm.

Shit.

Was she a mind reader?

“Vera Murray Bacall.”

Lowe sat up straight. Aida’s breath was a white cloud, as if she’d stepped outside in winter and exhaled cold air. Helvete. It was just as Astrid said. And Hadley wasn’t reading his salacious thoughts after all—she was just reacting to Aida, completely mesmerized.

And for good reason.

Aida’s breath changed. Her eyes snapped open.

Chills trickled down the back of Lowe’s neck and blanketed his arms.

“Who are you?” The voice was Aida’s, but the tone damn sure wasn’t.

“Is this it?” Hadley murmured to him. Her knee pressed firmly against his leg. She’d scooted closer? When had that happened?

“Do you see her breath?” he murmured to Hadley.

“Yes,” Hadley whispered. “Good God.”

Lowe cleared his throat. “Are we speaking to, uh, Mrs. Bacall?”

“Is Archie here? Or Noel?”

Archie must be her husband, Archibald Bacall, but who was Noel?

Hadley released his arm and straightened her shoulders. “No, but I am your daughter.”

“You couldn’t be . . . Hadley?”

“Yes.”

“You were so small. I can hardly believe it.”

If Hadley was emotional about this reunion, she didn’t show it. She delivered her words with the passion one might give placing an order at a restaurant. “I have an important question for you and little time. You hid four pieces of the mythical Backbone of Osiris amulet. I need to know where they are.”

“The amulet is dangerous.”

“I understand its purpose,” Hadley said. “Just tell me where you hid the pieces.”

“I didn’t hide them. I gave them away to keep them separated.”

Was she speaking in riddles or being difficult? Regardless, they might be going about this the wrong way. Perhaps it was best to follow Dr. Bacall’s original instructions. “Did you make a map of their locations?” he asked.

“A map?” The late Mrs. Bacall laughed with Aida’s mouth. “Yes, I made a map, if that’s what you choose to call it. A record of my great endeavor to keep Archie and Noel from killing each other, I suppose.”

Ah, Noel was the partner, then.

“Listen closely, and I’ll tell you where you can look for my map. You can find it in the Seine’s cold quays, in the fields of gazing grain, on night’s Plutonian Shore, and on a painted ship.”

More riddles.

“You’d do well to leave it be,” the spirit said before a short pause. “My darling. Your hair is blacker than pitch and impossibly thick. Just like mine.”

“Please speak plainly and tell me where you’ve hidden the map,” Hadley answered with a frustrated edge to her voice.

“Why, I have spoken plainly. Think about it a little, and you’ll figure it out. You were always so bright. Seems fitting that you’d follow my trail of bread crumbs. A bit like Isis scouring the earth to find the scattered limbs of Osiris.”

“This is a game to you?”

“Everything in life is a game. Listen, my dear, I can feel a dark presence attached to you. I hope that doesn’t mean I passed the curse along. If I could go back and make different decisions, I would.”

Hadley looked embarrassed.

Her mother’s spirit then asked, “Was the base of the amulet located?”

No one answered.

“The object’s purpose is no myth. That kind of magic is dangerous. The ancient priestesses stored the pieces in different temples for a reason, which is why I followed their example. Your father cannot be allowed near it. If you manage to find the crossbars and rejoin them to the base, under no circumstances whatsoever can you allow him to possess it.”

Unless he was waving a hundred-grand check around. No disrespect to the dead, but Lowe was still alive, and he needed that cash.

“Noel either,” she added. “I did my best to protect your father from him, but I fear what could happen if they were to compete again. Keep it away from the two of them. Please promise me.”

“Why?” Hadley asked, but a strangled sound was the only answer given. Aida jerked and gulped air. And on her next exhalation, the eerie white breath had disappeared.

The late Mrs. Bacall had left the room.

“Whew, that one made me a little dizzy,” Aida said, as if what she’d just done was no more miraculous than standing up too fast after a long nap. The mastiff never once lifted his big head. “Was anything she said helpful?”

“Not really,” Lowe said at the exact moment Hadley answered, “Extremely.”

Lowe squinted. “It was?”

“I’d say so.” She stood and collected her coat from where it was draped on a tasseled silk cushion. “I do believe I know exactly where my mother hid that map.”

TEN

“I’LL TAKE A TAXI,” Hadley told Lowe after they strode into the foyer. She glanced around to get her bearings and spotted the spirit medium and her great beast of a dog entering a birdcage elevator that flanked a grand staircase.

The Magnusson home was spacious and well kept. Impressive, even. Much more welcoming than either her apartment or her father’s house. Livelier, too. She’d wondered what it would be like to live in a home like this, where a radio played from the servants’ hall and laugher seeped through the ceiling from a room above.