“Damn it, Isabella,” Julian said. “Can you handle this or not?”
“Oh, shut up, Julian,” she said. “I don’t work for you anymore, remember? I’m a J&J investigator now.”
Fallon’s shadowed smile bordered on the macabre.
Julian shut up.
Isabella ignored them both and concentrated on calibrating her senses. She tuned out the older fog, concentrating on the brighter, more recent traces. Then she refined the search further, looking for only the very hot, icy light that she had detected on the broker’s computer.
And suddenly, there it was, the unique trail of searing fog that could only have been laid down by the broker.
“Got it,” she said softly. “You’re right, Fallon, he was running very hot. He was definitely nervous but mostly he was excited, thrilled.”
“No surprise there,” Julian said. “It was probably the biggest deal of his career.”
Fallon watched Isabella. “You’re in charge here. We’ll follow you.”
“This way,” she said, confident now that she had the trail.
She went quickly up the wide, curving staircase at the far end of the Grand Hall to the second floor. The river of fog flowed along another paneled passageway, past rooms and chambers and alcoves that gleamed and glowed and glittered in the shadows.
“Wouldn’t want to have to pay the utilities bill for this place,” she said.
“It would be the salaries for the staff required to maintain the mansion that would ruin you financially,” Fallon observed.
“Could you two try to stay focused here?” Julian muttered.
Isabella ignored him. So did Fallon.
She followed the searing mist down another hallway, past a large ballroom. She hated to admit it, but at times like this she did feel a little like a dog that had picked up the scent. Fallon’s words floated through her head. Born to hunt. Somehow that made her talent sound a lot more impressive.
She rounded another corner and came to a halt. Fallon and Julian stopped behind her.
“What do you see?” Julian asked urgently.
She studied the energy on the carpet. “He went into this room,” she said. “But the others on the tour did not.”
Fallon aimed his flashlight at the doorway of the room. A velvet rope blocked the entrance. “He hung back, waited until the tour group had moved on and then he ducked under the rope.”
“Looks like it,” Isabella said.
Julian moved to stand beside Fallon. Together they speared the shadows with their penlights.
Isabella stood on tiptoe behind the men, trying to peer past the barricade created by their broad shoulders.
“How sweet,” she said. “It’s a little girl’s bedroom.”
“Vantara had a daughter,” Julian said. “She inherited this place. Couldn’t afford to maintain it so she sold it to the historical foundation that runs the tours.”
The bedroom was a frilly fairyland of pink and white. The small bed was adorned with ruffles and flounces and covered with a herd of stuffed animals. Lacy curtains bracketed the windows. A child-sized dressing table and stool stood in one corner. Dolls, rocking horses and stuffed pandas littered the floor.
“I don’t see anything that even remotely resembles a weapon,” Julian said.
“No,” Fallon agreed. “But there’s something of a paranormal nature in here. I can feel the energy.”
Isabella tapped the shoulders of both men. “Excuse me. Mind if I take a look?”
Fallon stepped back. So did Julian.
She ducked under the velvet rope and stepped into the bedroom, concentrating on the trail of fog.
The mists led straight to the top of a pink-and-gilt chest of drawers. For the first time, Isabella took out her own flashlight and switched it on. She started opening and closing the drawers. Most were crammed with dainty petticoats, nightgowns and other items that had been made for a little girl.
The bottom drawer was filled with small pink and white socks and a cauldron of boiling fog.
“Got it,” Isabella said.
“What is it?” Julian asked urgently.
“Hang on.” Isabella dug beneath the neatly arranged socks and saw an elaborately wrought hand mirror. She aimed the beam of the flashlight at the object and caught her breath. The mirror was spectacular. The gold-and-silver frame was intricately worked in an elaborate Baroque design that subtly incorporated ancient alchemical symbols. Strange crystals glittered in the light. Although the object looked as if it had been crafted during the seventeenth century, the glass was not dark with age.
Captivated, she reached down to grasp the curved handle.
Electricity sparked through her. She flinched but she did not let go.
“This thing is definitely hot,” she said softly.
“Are you okay?” Fallon asked.
“I think so.”
She looked into the mirror, aware that Fallon and Julian had come up behind