“People get a sense of the supernatural just being here in Salem,” Edward said with a laugh of his own. “It has to do with that old witchcraft nonsense. But if you want to believe some mystical force guided you up to the castle, that’s fine. Just don’t ask me to subscribe to it.”

“How else can you explain what happened?” Kim said fervently. “Prior to today I’d spent thirty-plus hours without so much as finding something from the sixteen hundreds much less Elizabeth’s diary. What made me look in that specific trunk?”

“OK!” Edward said soothingly. “I’m not going to try to talk you out of it. Calm down. I’m on your side.”

“I’m sorry,” Kim said. “I didn’t mean to get all worked up. I just came in here to tell you that I missed you.”

After a lingering goodnight kiss, Kim left Edward to his blueprints and stepped from the room. After closing Edward’s door she was bathed in moonlight coming through the half-bath window. From where she was standing she could see the black brooding mass of the castle silhouetted against the night sky. She shuddered; the scene reminded her of the backdrop of classic Dracula movies which used to terrify her as a teenager.

After descending the dark, enclosed staircase that took a full one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn, Kim navigated through a sea of empty boxes that filled the foyer Stepping into the parlor, she looked up at Elizabeth’s portrait. Even in the dark Kim could see Elizabeth’s green eyes glowing as if they had an inner light.

“What are you trying to tell me?” Kim whispered to the painting. The instant she’d looked at it the feeling that Elizabeth was trying to give her a message came back in a rush along with a clear understanding that whatever the message was, it wasn’t in the diary. The diary was only a tease to goad Kim to further effort.

A sudden movement out of the corner of Kim’s eye brought a stifled scream to her lips, and her heart leaped in her chest. She raised her arms by reflex to protect herself, but then quickly lowered them. It was only Sheba leaping onto the game table.

Kim supported herself for a moment against the table. Her other hand was over her chest. She was embarrassed about the degree of her terror. It also indicated to her how tense she really was.

Early September 1994

The lab was finished, stocked with reagents, and opened during the first full week in September. Kim was glad. Although she had the month off and was available to sign receipts for the hundreds of daily deliveries, she was glad to be relieved of the duty. The person who relieved her was Eleanor Youngman.

Eleanor was the first person to start work officially in the lab. Several weeks previously she’d given her notice to Harvard that she was relinquishing her postdoctorate position, but it had taken her almost two weeks to wrap up all her projects and move to Salem.

Kim’s relationship with Eleanor improved but not drastically. It was cordial but stiff. Kim recognized that there was animosity on Eleanor’s part born of jealousy. At their first meeting Kim had intuitively sensed that Eleanor’s reverence for Edward included an unexpressed longing for a more personal relationship. Kim was amazed that Edward was blind to it. It was also a point of minor concern for her given her father’s history of licentious relationships with his so-called assistants.

The next occupants to arrive at the lab were the animals. They came midweek in the dead of the night. Edward and Eleanor supervised the unloading of the unmarked trucks and getting the menagerie of animals into the appropriate cages; Kim preferred to watch from the window of the cottage. She couldn’t see much of what was going on, but that was fine with her. Animal studies bothered her even though she understood their necessity.

Heeding the advice of the contractor and architect, Edward had established a policy that the less the community knew about what went on at the lab the better. He did not want any trouble with zoning laws or animal rights groups. This policy was aided by the natural insulation the compound enjoyed: a dense forest ringed with a high fence separated it from the surrounding community.

Toward the end of the first full week in September the other researchers began to arrive. With Edward and Eleanor’s assistance they secured rooms at the various bed and breakfast establishments sprinkled in and around Salem. Part of the contractual agreement with the researchers was that they come alone; they left their families temporarily behind to ease the stress of working around the clock for several months. The incentive was that everyone would become a millionaire once their stock was vested.

The first out-of-town member of the team to arrive was Curt Neuman. It was midmorning and Kim was in the cottage, preparing to leave for the castle, when she heard the muffled roar of a motorcycle. Going to the window, she saw a cycle glide to a stop in front of the house. A man of approximately her age dismounted and lifted the visor of his helmet. A suitcase was strapped to the back of the bike.

“Can I help you?” Kim called out through the window. She assumed it was a delivery person who’d missed the turnoff to the lab.

“Excuse me,” he said in an apologetic voice that had a mild Germanic timbre. “Perhaps you can help me locate the Omni lab.”

“You must be Dr. Neuman,” Kim said. “Just a minute. I’ll be right out.” Edward had mentioned an accent when he’d told Kim he was expecting Curt that day. She hadn’t expected the renowned researcher to arrive by motorcycle.

Kim quickly closed some fabric sample books left open on the game table and picked up several days’ worth of newspapers strewn over the couch in anticipation of inviting Curt Neuman in. Checking herself briefly in the foyer mirror, she opened the door.

Curt had removed his helmet and was cradling it in his arm like a medieval knight. But he wasn’t looking in Kim’s direction. He was looking toward the lab. Edward had apparently heard the motorcycle and was barreling along the dirt road in his car on his way to the cottage. He pulled up, jumped out, and embraced Curt as if they were long-lost brothers.

The two men talked briefly about Curt’s metallic-red BMW motorcycle until Edward realized Kim was standing in the doorway. He then introduced Kim to Curt.

Kim shook hands with the researcher. He was a large man, two inches taller than Edward, with blond hair and cerulean blue eyes.

“Curl’s originally from Munich,” Edward said. “He trained at Stanford and UCLA. Many people, including myself, think he’s the most talented biologist specializing in drug reactions in the country.”

“That’s enough, Edward,” Curt managed to say as his face blushed red.

“I was lucky to steal him away from Merck,” Edward continued. “They wanted him to stay so badly that they offered to build him his own lab.”

Kim watched in sympathy as poor Curt squirmed in the face of Edward’s encomium, reminding her of their own reactions to Stanton’s praise during the dinner when they’d first met. Curt seemed surprisingly bashful for his commanding size, model-like good looks, and reputed intelligence. He avoided eye contact with Kim.

“Enough of this blabber,” Edward said. “Come on, Curt! Follow me with that death-wish machine of yours. I want you to see the lab.”

Kim watched them caravan across the field toward the lab before she went back inside the house to finish what she had to do before heading up to the castle.

Later that day, just as Kim and Edward were finishing a light lunch, the second out-of-town researcher arrived. Edward heard the car drive up. Pushing back from the table, he went outside. Shortly afterward he returned with a tall, thin, but muscular man in tow. He was swarthy and handsome and appeared to Kim more like a professional tennis player than a researcher.