“And when we’re up there?” Tommy said. “On the second floor?”

“In the elevator,” Suzie added hastily.

“When you go up to the study in the elevator, take your time looking. Pick out some likely books and tell him those are yours. Rick here is going to be listening in to Lewis’s brain, to try to pick up information about the whereabouts of some jewelry.”

Suzie and Tommy were clearly confused by this information. Tommy stared at Barry as if he had two heads, while Suzie made a sound best described as “Tchah!”

Since Olivia didn’t want to address their skepticism, she decided to ignore it. “I’m going to be studying the layout to see if I can pinpoint good places to search if I have to return.” If? When. No matter who lay in wait for her, she’d have to get back in the house. Olivia actually felt a little excited as she thought of whom she might encounter this time. She’d be so ready for them. They wouldn’t have a chance.

She’d kill them all.

Leaving a visibly anxious Manfred behind, they drove to the Goldthorpe house in silence. Suzie made one comment about how nice the neighborhood was, which no one could argue with. Tommy seemed to get more and more ornery, as if he were thinking himself into his role as a disagreeable old fart. (Olivia didn’t think that was such a stretch for Tommy.) Barry, beside her, seemed detached. He was not as invested in this, and he was only interested in completing his role and departing a few hundred dollars richer.

Bertha answered the door. This time, the gardener was on a tall ladder in the foyer. He was replacing a bulb in the light fixture that hung down from the two-story ceiling. Bertha looked frazzled. Maybe having Lewis for a boss wasn’t working out very well. Given Lewis’s paranoia, Olivia was a little surprised he’d kept her on. Perhaps the answer lay in the FOR SALE sign they’d passed in the front yard.

“I’m Thomas Quick’s grandson,” Barry said, smiling pleasantly. “Mr. Lewis Goldthorpe should have gotten the letter from Mr. Quick’s lawyer yesterday, saying Mr. Quick needed access to the library today.”

Bertha stared at him, a crease between her brows. “I don’t know,” she said. “Let me call Lewis. He hasn’t said anything to me about this. Please wait here.” She shut the door in Barry’s face, and he turned to Olivia. “She’s not happy,” he said. “Lewis has been acting crazy. She’s nervous all the time. Visitors make him more nuts.”

You don’t have to be a mind-reader to know that, Olivia thought. “By the way,” she said, “my name is Amanda today.” It had been awfully careless, not thinking of that until now.

“Crazy man, huh?” said Tommy. His voice was loud and angry. “I want my books back!”

Tommy was a method actor, apparently.

“Yeah,” said Suzie. “We need our books back. They’re worth thousands! How come we didn’t get a notice from Morton’s estate when he died? That’s what I wanna know!”

“Hams,” Barry said, amused. But he said it very quietly.

“They’re living it,” Olivia agreed.

The front door flew open again, but this time so abruptly that it almost banged against the inside wall. Lewis was framed in the opening. Behind him was the maid, clearly unhappy and worried. The gardener was descending from the ladder, and he seemed to be glad as hell to be coming down.

Lewis was brandishing a piece of paper. Olivia was delighted to see it was the bogus letter from Manfred’s lawyer. “What the hell is this about?” Lewis demanded. He wasn’t exactly screaming, but his tone was not conversational, either. “My father never borrowed any books from anyone! Much less you!”

“Sir,” said Barry with quiet dignity. “This is my grandfather, Tommy Quick, who was a friend of your father’s. He’d just like to reclaim his property. He was really grieved to discover his friend Morton is dead, and he found out only because he read the obituary of Morton’s widow. Please respect his age and grief.”

It was as though he’d slapped Lewis in the face. The man got very quiet and still, so abruptly it was even more shocking than his previous pugnacity. “You’re saying this man was my father’s friend?” Lewis gave Tommy a very sharp once-over. “All right, come in. It’s very hot outside. And these two . . . ladies . . . are?”

“I’m Rick’s sister Amanda. This is my grandfather’s intended, Suzie Lee.” At the last second, Olivia had realized she had no idea what Suzie’s true last name was, and she’d supplied one on the spur of the moment. Suzie looked up at Lewis with a smile, and Olivia had to admire the old woman’s adaptability.

“I hope you don’t mind me coming along,” Suzie said, generating so much charm that Olivia almost had to take a step back. “Tommy and I go everywhere together.”

“Let me go turn off the television,” Lewis said abruptly, and vanished. When he reappeared, Bertha abruptly retreated to the back of the house. It was clear the maid was washing her hands of the situation.

Her son—he must be, their mouths and eyes were so alike—was folding up the ladder and giving the newcomers a comprehensive stare, starting with Olivia’s tight blue jeans. But he left, too, carrying the ladder carefully down the hall to the back of the house.

Good. Now there were no witnesses, whatever happened.

Lewis reappeared, so changed it was like he’d taken a hit of laughing gas. He’d morphed into the gracious master of the manor. “There’s an elevator right back here for you, if you’d prefer,” he said. If he’d had mustaches, he’d have been twirling them. “I often take it myself.”

“Thanks,” said Tommy gruffly. “The little lady has a problem with stairs.”

Every effort had been made to make the tiny elevator unobtrusive. Even the door was designed to look like a real wood door. Olivia said, “I’ll just take the stairs.”

She met them at the top and confirmed that the elevator door was right by the study door. She was smiling when the elevator door dinged open and they all appeared.

Lewis’s new hospitality made Olivia deeply suspicious, and her anxiety was confirmed when she caught Barry’s expression. Behind Lewis’s back, he made an urgent face at her. She didn’t know exactly what it meant, but nothing good. She went on full alert.

Tommy got off the elevator with extra care and turned to extend his hand to Suzie. She took it with a smile. Somehow, in the Goldthorpe mansion, they looked smaller and frailer and less in control of their destinies than they had in the Midnight Hotel. Tommy seemed to be aware of it, too. In a patronizing tone, he said, “This is a nice house, young man.” He looked around him in a lordly way. “I haven’t been here in years,” he added, perhaps thinking that he should have visited at least a few times if he’d been such a good friend of Morton’s.

“I’m so glad you like it,” Lewis said smoothly.

Obviously, Lewis suspected they weren’t what they seemed. Olivia didn’t know what he suspected or what to do about it. For the moment, she decided to go along with the plan. Lewis was not a good pretender. She was.

“I’m really sorry about your mom,” she said. Lewis’s glasses winked as he swung his head around to glare at her.

And she saw Barry blink and look away, just for a second.

Lewis was more dangerous than he seemed, apparently.

“She never took good care of herself,” Lewis said brusquely. “She was getting forgetful, too. She was hiding things from me.”

“Hiding things,” Olivia echoed in a murmur with just a hint of a question in it.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “She was getting very . . . well, paranoid, I’m afraid, and she decided I was after her jewelry. Poor thing,” he added unconvincingly. “I miss her so much.”

“Of course,” Barry said. “Grandpa, can you see the books you loaned Morton? Look carefully. We don’t want to leave one behind.”

Tommy had gone to the shelves to begin his “search.” Suzie began a stilted conversation with Lewis about estate taxes, which only went forward fitfully, because Lewis was watching Tommy like a hawk. Did he think Tommy would try to stuff books down his pants?