crime about to take place.” Charmaine continued to circle the room, examining objects at she went. “Something is stalking me in my own home,” Mrs. Forstall said. Charmaine looked at her sharply. Loretta Chevalier Forstall wasn’t joking, nor was she play-acting. Her hand shook as she raised the glass to her mouth. Born into one of the old New Orleans families, she’d married into another equally distinguished old family. Mrs. Forstall was still on the sunny side of forty; at thirty-seven she was eight years older than Charmaine. “So far we haven’t found anything, not one sinister whisper. No objects floating on their own. No heavy footsteps,” Charmaine said. She turned back to gaze at the leather bound books. “Don’t patronize me, Ms. Joliet,” Mrs. Forstall snapped. “I’m not some elderly nincompoop with too much time on my hands and a wild imagination.” Charmaine took a deep breath and faced Mrs. Forstall. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like I was making fun of you. I can see your fear is real. Let’s go over what’s been happening again. Mrs. Forstall blinked back tears. She put a hand to her forehead and then sat down on a leather sofa nearby. “Do I have to?” “Being here might help you think of details you didn’t recall at my office.” Charmaine sat beside her and assumed a sympathetic expression. “No rush, just take it slow.” “For the past three months I haven’t felt comfortable here. Not since my husband... went to oversee the Rome branch of his business.” Charmaine and Jessi figured that was code for he left her for another woman. But they were still checking out the family and her story. “He took your children with him.” “No, Alyssa only. Grayson is away at school. I told you all of this.” Mrs. Forstall glanced at Charmaine. “You’re checking to see if I keep my story straight.” “You’ve been shaken up. I want to make sure I have it right. That’s all.” Charmaine said with a business-like nod. “Go on.” “Grayson was accepted into Williams College. I thought he was too young to go so far from home, but my husband disagreed.” Mrs. Forstall’s expression turned sour. She finished off the drink and frowned at the empty glass. “You didn’t mind your youngest going to Italy?” Charmaine tilted her head to one side as if the angle would afford clear insight. “She’d never been abroad, and she adores her father,” Mrs. Forstall said in a flat tone. “You said ‘we’. I hired you. I don’t want strangers mixing in my personal affairs.” “My sister—” “Isn’t part of our business arrangement,” Mrs. Forstall said crisply and stood, drink in hand. She started to say more, but a loud thump stopped her. She dropped the glass. “Oh God. It’s starting before daylight now, that horrible sound.” “I doubt it,” Charmaine murmured. She stood and walked to the open door leading to hallway. “I hear it. We have to get out. Now!” Mrs. Forstall’s already pale coloring turned almost glowing white. “Don’t scream. We’re not going to let anything bad happen to you.” Charmaine crossed to the woman and shoved her down onto the sofa again. “Stay put.” Mrs. Forstall’s mouth worked but no words came out. Fear had disconnected her brain to her vocal chords it seemed. Charmaine felt a rush of energy as well, but not fear. She’d given up being scared of the supernatural. People and the things they got up to sent more chills down her spine than any goblin. She’d been on the receiving end enough times. With a hand in the leather cross-body bag slung over one shoulder, Charmaine stepped into the hallway. The wide staircase looked stunning as usual. A louder banging sound came from upstairs. As Charmaine put a foot on the first carpeted stair, Jessi appeared on the landing above, hands on both hips. “The rich bitch lied to you. There’s a body up here, and it sure as hell ain’t natural