"Ah," she said softly. "Then no, he isn't. It was very much an accident – there were plenty of witnesses to the event."
At least that was something. I handed the photograph back. "If someone is using his identity, is there any way you could trace them?"
"Magically, you mean?"
When I nodded, she grimaced. "I'm afraid not. I'd have to have something of theirs to even attempt a reading."
I dug into my purse and retrieved the cuff link. "We found this, although we have no real idea if it belongs to our fake Michael Greenwood or someone else."
She plucked it from my fingertips and studied it for several minutes. "I think it might be possible to trace whoever owned this item. It is not, however, something I wish to do without some form of protection."
"Why?"
Her gaze rose to mine. "Because whoever owned this cuff link has a particularly nasty resonance."
"We think the owner might be a dark sorceress."
"That would certainly explain the resonance." She paused, her expression curious. "How is the sorceress connected to whoever might be using Michael's identity?"
"We suspect our sorceress is a face shifter who is able to not only make a full body shift, but can become male or female, too."
"Which is an extremely rare occurrence."
"I know."
She glanced down at the cuff link, then rose abruptly. "Come along then."
She bustled out of the room and didn't look back. I hastily placed my coffee mug back on the table, the movement so sudden liquid splashed over the rim, scalding my fingers and spilling across the table. I grabbed a napkin, dropped it over the mess, then ran after Adeline. She led us into a room farther down the hall – one opposite the room in which she'd taught me to astral travel. Energy caressed my skin as I went through the doorway, a warning that wards were very active here. The décor was simple – a small round table, a half dozen thickly cushioned chairs, and warmly colored tapestries on the wall. Candles burned in the four corners of the room, their aroma filling the air with lavender and sage. They were also the only source of light. This, I suspected, was the place she did most of her business and, in very many ways, it reminded me of the room Mom had used when she had clients wanting to talk to relatives who'd moved on.