There were only two women in the other pictures. Girls, Finn amended. One appeared in a group shot with Nast and friends. The other got two pictures, one of her and Nast arm-in-arm, making Finn leap to the "girlfriend" conclusion before noticing she had the same oddly bright blue eyes. In the other, she was alone, on horseback, and younger, maybe fourteen. He was examining that one when Nast returned and caught him looking at it.

"Sister?" he asked.

Nast stopped in midstride before giving a soft yes.

As Nast took shelter behind the big desk, there was a rigidity in his shoulders that hadn't been there earlier, and Finn knew he'd been taken aback, maybe even offended.

"She picked a nice spot to go riding, those mountains and all. Oregon, I bet."

A pause, then a curt, "Yes, Oregon. Now, I have Irving's cell number, so let's give that a try."

He dialed, listened, then shook his head. "Straight to voice mail – Irving? It's Sean. Can you give me a call?" A tight smile. "It's not about the Boulder project, I promise."

The smile loosened only a fraction as he hung up. "Well, there. If he calls back, I'll tell him you want to speak to him. Do you have a card?"

They exchanged business cards, Nast writing Irving's cell number on the back of his before handing it to Finn.

"Maybe you'll have more luck. I'm persona non grata with Irving today, after dragging him away from his family.

Which reminds me, he mentioned he was taking them up the coast this afternoon. Visiting the in-laws, I think. So you might have trouble getting together. But he's usually in by eight-thirty. If you'd like an introduction tomorrow, have the desk buzz me."

Damon was waiting outside the front doors. "I circled the whole building. There was one spot, around the back, where I made it two feet through the wall before hitting the invisible one. Weird."

Finn nodded, not really listening.

"Was Irving in?" Damon asked.

Finn shook his head.

"Can you take out your cell phone and actually talk to me?"

He gave Damon a play-by-play. "When Nast left that room, something happened. One minute he was Mr. Helpful, the next he couldn't get me out fast enough. I think when I was talking to Madoz, Nast had second thoughts about making the call to Irving in front of me. He did it from the other room and whatever his cousin said made Nast decide he shouldn't be so eager to help."

"So what happened when you tried the number yourself?"

"I haven't."

"Because you know it's fake."

"I'm sure it isn't." Finn rounded the corner.

"So – Hey – " Damon grabbed for Finn's arm, letting out a hiss of frustration when his fingers passed through. "One of these days, I'm going to stop doing that. I was saying, the car is that way."

"I'm not going to the car." Finn backed against the wall. "Hold on while I try the number."

It rang through to voice mail, as he'd thought it would. Sean Nast wouldn't risk giving him a fake. He'd just warn Irving not to answer. Finn left a message and made a note in his pad.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going?" Damon asked as Finn pocketed the notebook.

"I'm backtracking to the front door, now that the guard has seen me leave. You'll cover the rear. If Nast comes out your way, follow – "He stopped, remembering his partner was the Invisible Man. " You cover the front; I'll get the back.

You see him? Whistle."

ROBYN

Robyn peeled one hand, gummy with sweat, from the gun, flexed it and readjusted her grip.

"You're doing fine," Hope whispered as they edged along the building.

Fine? Robyn didn't even know what she was doing. She knew the plan, but she felt like a computer processing ones and zeros with no concept of what it meant, how it fit together in a larger context.

Shot by a psychotic paparazzo? No sweat. Kidnapped by a werewolf? Okay. Best friend turns out to be a demon?

Sure. She'd even played bait to catch a killer, and still kept her cool. But when that boy leaped to his death her emotional core had shut down altogether.

She still saw his face, floating before her wherever she looked, his expression frozen at the moment when he'd realized he was falling.

And now she was going to see his body.

Robyn wanted to slap the gun back into Hope's hand and say, "You deal, because I can't."

Hope tugged the back of Robyn's shirt. "I'll do this."

"I'm fine," rose to Robyn's lips. Then she realized Hope must have read her thoughts. "I'll be okay. If you were up to it, Karl wouldn't have given me the gun."

"It's just that – When we get close, I'll see... it. The boy's jump. I black out. I only see that."

A replay of his death?

"I'll be okay," Robyn said again, and meant it.

As they neared the corner, Hope took out her phone. Robyn kept her gaze forward, waiting while Hope called Karl to say they were in position.

When she didn't, Robyn glanced back. Hope stood there, phone still in her pocket, her face a copper mask, immobile and gleaming, amber irises stuttering, like Damon's when he'd fall asleep watching TV, eyelids not quite closing.

Dreaming. Or seeing a vision.

Robyn reached for her friend's arm, then stopped. You weren't supposed to wake sleepwalkers – would the same logic apply?

"It's her – Adele," Hope said. "Grief. Guilt. God, she feels so guilty. She – " Hope's chin jerked up, ricocheting from the vision. "Sorry, I was..." She reached toward the wall, as if to steady herself, then noticed the phone clutched in her hand and stared at it, confused.

"You need to call – " Robyn began.

"Right." She hit the speed-dial button, didn't raise it to her ear. Just let it ring twice, then hung up and said, "I'm going to take a look. If I freeze up, don't worry unless you hear anything. Then just yank me back."

Hope eased past Robyn. She was still a foot from the edge when she went rigid. Then she backed up.

"It's not Adele," Hope said.

"What? You didn't see – "

Hope held up a finger as her phone buzzed, the vibration as loud as a ring. Robyn circled past her, to peek around the corner.