branches that use children, either selling parts of their corpses or stealing their so-called life energy. You mentioned fragmented or weakened child spirits…'
'And something like that might explain it.'
'So you go ahead and do your research. It'll give me time to track down Kris, tell him I'm back for a while. If you need me, just shout, but…' A sly smile. 'If I'm slow responding, give me a few minutes.'
'Gotcha.'
JEREMY DROVE me to the seance site.
'All right,' Becky said as she ushered us into the backyard. 'Our subject for today is Mickey Cohen.'
'Is this his house?' I said, surveying the small stuccoed home.
'Um, I can't say,' she said. 'Liability issues. Being a mobster and all, we have to be very respectful of the current residents.'
'A mobster?' Angelique's eyes went wide as she shivered. 'Like the Mafia? I don't think my daddy would want me talking to someone like that. Maybe I shouldn't do this one…'
'Cohen… Cohen,' Grady mused. 'The chap who founded Las Vegas, wasn't it?'
He glanced at Claudia, who gave a 'don't ask me' shrug.
Becky smiled. 'I'm not telling, but I'm sure he will. Now let's set up over there.'
HE ACED the seance. All three of us. Becky was fuming, knowing I must have passed on her tip about Cohen to Angelique and Grady, and I realized I'd just made an enemy in the business. It was the first time I'd ever done so intentionally. I'm always careful not to burn bridges-that incompetent junior assistant you tell off today could be a studio executive in ten years. But in ten years, I'd be out of the business, and Becky didn't have the clout to do more than spread 'difficult to work with' stories about me.
But if I was wrong? If she turned out to be the mistress of a network exec currently considering my new show? The thought passed with a surprising lack of alarm. Right now, my priority was freeing these kids. Anything else I could deal with later.
After the seance, Jeremy and I headed to Botnick's shop, which had been closed when he checked earlier. On the way, I told him what Eve had said.
'She may have a point.'
I looked over at him sharply. 'About raising the corpses?'
'No, but I think I know a way we could find a body without raising the dead. For now, though, it's simply something to keep in the back of our minds.'
THE SHOP windows were still dark, the sign turned to Closed.
'Lunch break?'
'Perhaps.' He found a parking place. 'I'm going to walk past. Care to join me?'
'Around here, it's probably safer than staying in the car.'
RUNES
ACCORDING TO THE SIGN on Botnick's shop, it opened at eleven and closed at seven. It was now almost one. Jeremy peered through the darkened window as I looked for a Gone for Lunch or Back in Five Minutes notice. Nothing.
'It doesn't look as if he opened this morning,' Jeremy said. 'The mail is still under the slot.'
He glanced at the adjoining stores. An adults-only video shop and a tattoo parlor. Putting his fingers on the back of my arm, he steered me toward the latter.
It was empty except for a woman sitting sideways on an old armchair, her back against one arm, her legs sprawled over the other. She had a sandwich in one hand and a pen in the other as she sketched something on a pad. Late twenties with spiked black hair, she wore torn jeans and a T-shirt with the sleeves ripped off.
Her gaze flitted over me and came to rest on Jeremy.
'Sorry to disturb you,' he said. 'We're here about the shop next door. Atrum Arcana appears to be closed, and I was hoping you might know whether that's temporary or it's shut down for the day.' He gave a wry smile. 'I'm sure you don't keep an eye on your neighbor's comings and goings, but we've traveled some distance, so I thought I'd ask.'
'Atrum Arcana?'
She looked at Jeremy with renewed interest, her eyes glittering behind her cat's-eye glasses. If she noticed me, she gave no sign of it. It seemed that the farther I got from thirty, the more invisible I became to twenty- somethings-the men I was with became fair game.
'I don't know what's up with Eric today,' she said. 'I haven't seen him. But maybe I could help. I know some people who sell pretty much the same stuff. What exactly did you have in mind?'
'Wiccan amulets. For a niece. I heard his store carries a large selection.'
'Oh.'
As her interest cooled, Jeremy walked to a display of mystical symbols. 'These are very nice. Not for her just yet, though I'm sure she'll be asking for one in a few years. Are you a practitioner?'
'Nah. I just draw what the customers want. Occult stuff is hot.'
'This is your work, then?'
She nodded.
He traced his fingertips over an ankh. 'Beautiful. Maybe when she's older. Thank you very much for your time.'
She stood as he turned to go. 'Here's my card. And about Eric? No idea where the guy is, which is weird. He never opens late, never closes early. Takes his business seriously. I was a little worried when he didn't open, so I tried his home number. Left a message. Nothing.'
'Something probably came up,' Jeremy said. 'We're in town for a couple of days. We'll call tomorrow, before we come out.'
'And if he doesn't answer, give me a ring. Maybe I'll know something.'
As she retrieved a business card, he eyed a smaller display of symbols. Simple ones in black and white. Even as she handed him the card, he pulled his gaze away from the display only for a moment, with a distracted 'thank you.'
Another lingering look at the symbols, then he put his fingers on my arm and headed for the door. He made it halfway, stopped and slowly turned.
'I noticed you have a number of runes there,' he said, nodding at the display.
The young woman beamed. 'Yep. A specialty of mine. I love them. Elegant, you know?'
Jeremy nodded, still hesitating, as if contemplating something. After a second, he walked back toward the woman.
'There are a few I've seen, and never been able to place.'
'What do they look like?'
He nodded at her sketch pad and murmured, 'May I?'
She passed it over. He sketched two symbols. I watched with a vague sense that I'd seen them before, but couldn't remember where.
'You're an artist,' the woman said, her appraising smile returning. 'I can tell.'
A small nod from Jeremy, not quite admitting it. He finished his sketches. The young woman studied them, them shook her head.
'They look kind of like a couple of the Elder Futhak ones, and a bit like Hungarian but not quite either.' She picked up the paper, lifting it into a better light. 'Very nice, though. Can I keep them?'
I expected Jeremy to say, 'Yes, of course'-his usual good manners-but he hesitated, as if he'd like to refuse but wasn't sure how. After a moment he nodded.
'So, what's your medium?' she asked.
