Runa’s eyes narrowed. “When I saw you, you had your hand on his arm, as if you were walking into prom. You had that look on your face.”

Leon and Bern looked like they were watching a great movie and had just come to the best part. Ugh.

“What look?” I asked.

“The I’m-touching-the-dreamiest-guy-in-the-universe look.”

“I was flustered. I’d just watched him stab a man and then smile at me like nothing happened.”

“Well, I was flustered too!”

Arabella walked into the kitchen. “I smell chicken. Give.”

“You’re gonna want to sit down for this,” Leon told her. “Catalina and Runa are having a fight. We’re about an inch from hair pulling.”

“A fight?” Arabella’s eyes widened. “A real fight?”

“Yes,” Bern told her.

“Pass the popcorn,” my sister said.

Why did I put up with all of this? Oh yeah, they were family and I loved them no matter what. But sometimes, like right now, I loved them significantly less.

I turned to Runa. “Your sister could have been kidnapped. The ransom would explain where the money went. But this scenario has problems.”

“Okay,” she said. “Like what?”

“First, if someone kidnapped Halle, and your mother paid the ransom, why kill her and why plant a fake Halle? If your mother failed to pay the ransom, where is the money, and again, why the decoy? It would make much more sense to contact you and say that they killed your mother and they have your sister. You would pay whatever they asked. Also, your mother says in the video that she didn’t regret her actions and that she did what she felt was right. That suggests that the fire was an act of punishment. She expected to be in danger, but she says nothing about your sister, and she made no effort to shield Halle by sending her away, for example, which implies your mother thought she was the only one in trouble. So no, none of this makes sense.”

Runa pondered it. The silence stretched.

“Fair enough,” she said finally. “What about this Diatheke thing?”

Bern cleared his throat. “On paper, they’re an investment firm ‘seeking partnership with high net worth individuals, families, and firms.’ They mainly invest in enterprises in South America. Average Web site, pictures of corporate officers, which are old white guy, younger white guy, and some people in their thirties with good dentists and above average income.”

So far, pretty average.

“There are no reviews or testimonials, which isn’t unusual for a private investment firm,” Bern continued. “Their Glassdoor listing is vague. Employees: one to eighty. Net worth: unknown. Revenue: unknown. Salaries: unknown. Again, not unusual. Bloomberg, which gets its info from S&P Global Market Intelligence, lists Randall Baker as a founder. He doesn’t belong to any House and he isn’t on Herald. He hasn’t been indicted. He hasn’t declared bankruptcy. The company never declared bankruptcy and has never been sued or sanctioned. They’re a private equity firm like dozens of others in Houston. The only thing 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 oak by my window twenty seconds ago.”

“Dickfucker!”

Bug hung up.

“Food. Now,” Arabella ordered.

“Okay, okay.” I headed for the door. “I did see him.”

“Maybe you’ll see him in your dreams. By the way, I called our insurance company to give them a heads-up about the Yarrow case.”

“Why?”

“We rammed a house with Brick.”

I made a one-eighty. “You what?”

“It was a hostage situation,” she said. “The damages aren’t that bad.”

“How bad?”

“We took out a wall and a panic room door.”

I opened my mouth. Too many words tried to come out at once, and I just stood there, trying to sort them out.

“Anyway, our insurance is canceled as of last month.”

“What? Are they claiming we didn’t pay the bill? Because I had them on direct deposit!”

My sister sighed. “No, they canceled because our grace period expires tomorrow, and we’re ‘high risk.’”

“Nice. Do they expect us to immediately die in horrible ways?”