"This time, there's no cover-up. These are humans. You can't just canvass supernaturals in Los Angeles looking for them. You have millions of suspects, not a few hundred. You need to draw them out."

I wasn't sure I agreed. In fact, I was pretty sure I didn't, but rather than argue the concept I honed in on the specifics. "How would I ever find a body? It coudl take weeks, even with Jeremy and me both out here every night digging."

"You don't need to dig, Jaime. They'll come to you."

"They'll-" My throat went dry. "You can't mean- Raise their bodies? My God, Eve, I can't believe you'd suggest that. You're a mother."

"Yes, I'm a mother, Jaime, which is exactly why I'd do this instead of pissing around with research. You think I don't know what I'm asking? I do, but if it means stopping these bastards, then I'd let you do it to Savannah herself." She walked past me, silent. "I know it won't be a very pleasant thing to do, Jaime. Not for you or them."

"If it would solve this, I'd do it. But we've got a lead with this Botnick guy and I think we should play that through first."

With her back still to me, she said, "Your call. I can't dig up the corpses myself. If you really want to do more book reading, look into African folk magic."

"Did the Fates suggest that?"

"No, I did. Couple of years before I died, I had some sorcerer kid offer me body parts. From a child. He'd hooked up with these… witch doctors. Fucked-up stuff."

"This kid… Where could I find him?"

"Over on my side somewhere. Not my doing. I tore a strip out of him and scared him off that shit, but he only got into something worse, with worse people than me. Guy was looking for a shortcut to power. Typical kid-didn't want to work for it. Point is, I did some digging into this folk magic after he told me about it. There are some branches that use children, either selling parts of their corpses or stealing their so-called life energy. You mentioned fragmented or weakened child spirits…"

"And something like that might explain it."

"So you go ahead and do your research. It'll give me time to track down Kris, tell him I'm back for a while. If you need me, just shout, but…" A sly smile. "If I'm slow responding, give me a few minutes."

"Gotcha."

JEREMY DROVE me to the seance site.

"All right," Becky said as she ushered us into the backyard. "Our subject for today is Mickey Cohen."

"Is this his house?" I said, surveying the small stuccoed home.

"Um, I can't say," she said. "Liability issues. Being a mobster and all, we have to be very respectful of the current residents."

"Amobster?" Angelique's eyes went wide as she shivered. "Like the Mafia? I don't think my daddy would want me talking to someone like that. Maybe I shouldn't do this one…"

"Cohen… Cohen," Grady mused. "The chap who founded Las Vegas, wasn't it?"

He glanced at Claudia, who gave a "don't ask me" shrug.

Becky smiled. "I'm not telling, but I'm sure he will. Now let's set up over there."

HE ACED the seance. All three of us. Becky was fuming, knowing I must have passed on her tip about Cohen to Angelique and Grady, and I realized I'd just made an enemy in the business. It was the first time I'd ever done so intentionally. I'm always careful not to burn bridges-that incompetent junior assistant you tell off today could be a studio executive in ten years. But in ten years, I'd be out of the business, and Becky didn't have the clout to do more than spread "difficult to work with" stories about me.

But if I was wrong? If she turned out to be the mistress of a network exec currently considering my new show? The thought passed with a surprising lack of alarm. Right now, my priority was freeing these kids. Anything else I could deal with later.

After the seance, Jeremy and I headed to Botnick's shop, which had been closed when he checked earlier. On the way, I told him what Eve had said.

"She may have a point."

I looked over at him sharply. "About raising the corpses?"

"No, but I think I know a way we could find a body without raising the dead. For now, though, it's simply something to keep in the back of our minds."

THE SHOP windows were still dark, the sign turned to Closed.

"Lunch break?"

"Perhaps." He found a parking place. "I'm going to walk past. Care to join me?"

"Around here, it's probably safer than staying in the car."

RUNES

ACCORDING TO THE SIGN on Botnick's shop, it opened at eleven and closed at seven. It was now almost one. Jeremy peered through the darkened window as I looked for a Gone for Lunch or Back in Five Minutes notice. Nothing.

"It doesn't look as if he opened this morning," Jeremy said. "The mail is still under the slot."

He glanced at the adjoining stores. An adults-only video shop and a tattoo parlor. Putting his fingers on the back of my arm, he steered me toward the latter.

It was empty except for a woman sitting sideways on an old armchair, her back against one arm, her legs sprawled over the other. She had a sandwich in one hand and a pen in the other as she sketched something on a pad. Late twenties with spiked black hair, she wore torn jeans and a T-shirt with the sleeves ripped off.

Her gaze flitted over me and came to rest on Jeremy.