notable about them is that their founder is likely a figurehead.”
“Why do you think that?” Runa asked.
“Because Randall Baker is ninety-two years old and his primary residence is in Naples, Florida,” Bern said. “I broke into his home network and read his email. He hasn’t been to Houston since before we became a House.”
I rubbed my face. “Tomorrow I’ll go to Diatheke and see what I can find out. They probably won’t tell me where they wired the money, if they wired it, but at least we can confirm that the funds were transferred.”
Runa looked at me. “I’ll come with you.”
“No,” the four of us all said at the same time.
She threw her hands up. “I won’t poison anybody.”
“If you go there with Catalina,” Bern said, “she’ll have to concentrate on keeping you safe instead of finding your sister.”
“What he said,” Arabella said.
“Please stay here,” I told Runa. “Besides, if Ragnar wakes up, he’ll need to see you. He’ll be in a strange place, with strange people, and waking up after my magic will be confusing enough.”
“Okay,” Runa said. “I’ll stay here and sit on my hands. Doing nothing. While you go into danger on my behalf. Happy?”
“Ecstatic. Arabella, will you come talk to me upstairs?”
I marched into the hallway. As I climbed the ladder to my loft suite, I heard Bern behind me rumble, “She really wants to help you. Personal confrontations are very difficult for her.”
Great. Look at all this respect I was getting as Head of House. So much respect.
Arabella knocked on the ladder and climbed up. “I’m so tired. What did you need?”
“Could you look into Halle Etterson for me?”
Arabella grimaced. “You think she killed her mother, planted a corpse, and made off with a cool two mil?”
“I don’t know, but I want to find out.”
My face felt too hot. I went to the window, unlatched it, and slid it open. The night exhaled cold air, cooling my skin. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, Bern was right. I didn’t like confrontations. Especially with people I cared about.
“Did Alessandro actually stab somebody?”
“Yes. He did it well too.”
Arabella exhaled. “Well, I’m shook.”
Shook was a good way to put it.
My window opened onto a street, behind which rose tall brick buildings. Between the buildings and the road an old oak tree spread its branches, its massive trunk encircled by a four-foot-high stone wall. A lone streetlamp fought a valiant battle against the night, illuminating some of the street and the tips of the branches.
I sighed. It was a long, long day, and I had so much work to do tomorrow . . .
Arabella said something.
“What?” I asked.
“I said you should have some chicken. Don’t be pulling a Nevada on me.”
“I will. I just didn’t want to ask you in front of Runa.”
Movement troubled the oak. I focused on it.
Alessandro sat on the thick branch directly across from my window. He wore charcoal grey, and his hair was brushed back from his face.
He raised his hand and waved at me.
I caught my hand rising to wave back and spun to my sister. “He’s here!”
“Who?”
“Alessandro! He’s sitting in the oak.”
Arabella dashed to the window. “Where?”
The tree was empty.
I pointed to where he had been a moment before. “Right there. He waved at me.”
I grabbed my phone and dialed the emergency contact for Abarca.
“Chicken,” my sister said. “Lots and lots of chicken. Helps with hunger-induced hallucinations.”
“I saw him.” The phone rang and rang.
“I believe that you think you saw him. The heart wants what the heart wants, Catalina.”
“My heart doesn’t want anything. I saw him stab a man in the chest and now he’s in the oak, bypassing our security like it’s not even there.”
“Chicken and then a nap. How about a nice long nap?”
“I’ll put you into a nice long nap.”
She snorted. “You and what army?”
“Abarca!” the phone said.
“There is an intruder on the premises.”
“Are you sure?” Abarca asked.
“Yes, I’m sure. He was in the tree by my window. If he was a sniper, I would be dead, or Arabella would be dead.”
“I find it highly unlikely,” Abarca said. “We’ve got the place locked down tight. Are you sure . . .”
“My sister said she saw an intruder,” Arabella yelled. “Do something!”
“We’re on it.” Abarca hung up.
I dialed Bug.
“If you’re calling about that ass clown, I don’t have him yet. He got away from me this afternoon, but I’ll find him . . .”
Ass clown. What did that even mean . . . “He was in the