It took only about ten minutes to determine what I’d feared was reality. Erin/Lily wasn’t here, and no one seemed to have seen her. So she hadn’t come here, or she’d slipped in and out without anyone noticing. Either way, we had no way of knowing where she was now or even where to start looking.

“They have security cameras,” Alona pointed out, once we were back in the parking lot heading toward the car.

“Yeah, and how do we explain why we need to see what’s on them, without getting the police involved?” I wanted to avoid that for as long as possible. If I could get things back to some semblance of normality before the Turners found out something was amiss, all the better. “And even if we could, the cameras won’t tell us where she went from here.”

“So now what?” she asked. “Check every tattoo parlor, strip club, and doughnut shop between here and the Indiana border?”

I stopped in the process of pulling my keys from my pocket and stared at her. “Strip clubs? Really?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Closest thing to a party at two in the afternoon, probably, right?”

“I have no idea.” I tilted my head to one side, regarding her with curiosity. “Do you?”

“You wish,” she snapped, clearly offended.

In spite of everything, I almost smiled. “We’re going to Malachi’s,” I said, unlocking the car.

Alona made a face. “That place is so gross,” she muttered. “Seriously, a few hundred bucks more a month and he could have a place that doesn’tlook like a front for a Russian mail-order-bride service.”

“Better office space isn’t exactly his top priority,” I said, opening the driver’s-side door for her to scoot across the seat. She could have opened her door, but with all the people in the parking lot, it didn’t seem like a good idea. I hoped she wouldn’t fight me on it.

“What does that mean?” she asked with a frown, climbing in without complaint.

I followed her in and slammed the door shut. “It means Malachi has other ways of attracting business.”

I waited until I’d backed out of the space in the crowded lot and got us on the road to Malachi’s before sharing everything he’d told me about his sister’s death, my dad’s visit, and their unusual method for obtaining new customers.

“That’s what she meant by Misty being just business,” she said, more to herself than to me. “So they’re haunting people to make money, and they picked Misty because of me, because I was her best friend and I died?”

I nodded. “And because they thought her family probably had enough money to make it worthwhile.”

“Son of a bitch,” she whispered. Then she straightened up. “Malachi… Edmund’snot going to have to worry about his sister being dead anymore, because I’m going to make sure he joins her.”

And that was pretty much how I felt about it, too.

But when we got to Malachi’s storefront, it was as abandoned and locked up as when I’d been there earlier, and this time, the back looked the same. No van, no boxes, no Edmund.

The jerk had taken off. Evidently he’d gotten tired of waiting around for Erin. Or maybe he thought that she’d catch up to him if she could, and if not, well, then, that wouldn’t be so bad, either.

“Shit.”

Alona raised her eyebrows at me. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know his last name,” I explained through clenched teeth. “I have no other way to track him down. I don’t even know for sure if Edmund is really his first name. It’s not like I asked for ID.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, don’t be such a whiner.” She marched past me toward the back door.

“What are you—”

She disappeared inside before I could finish the question.

With a sigh, I moved closer to the door so she could shove it open for me, which she did a second later, almost clipping me in the face.

“I hope there isn’t an alarm,” I said.

“Here?” she asked incredulously. “Please. Like anyone would wantanything in this place.” She stepped back, making space for me to walk into the dim back rooms of Malachi’s office. Only the buzzing fluorescent fixture above the sink in the kitchen was on.

“He took everything with him,” I pointed out. “He was packing up to leave town, remember?”

She shook her head mockingly. “How would you survive without me?”

I stiffened.

She grimaced and waved the words away. “Never mind.…I didn’t mean…” She took a deep breath and flipped her hair back behind her shoulders, a pale gleam of gold in the dim light. “People are never good about getting rid of everything. Tamara Lindt got outed on that thing with the student teacher because she lent her phone to someone without deleting all the evidence.”

Tamara Lindt. That had been a scandal from way back in sophomore year. Even I’d been aware of it, which was saying something. She and this slimy d-bag college senior on assignment from EIU had had a thing in the equipment room…during school lunches. He’d been using her, from what I’d heard afterward, while “dating” several other girls on campus at the same time. Someone started a rumor that spread like, well, a juicy rumor, and it eventually got him kicked out of school, ours and his. Tamara had never seemed particularly grateful, but she wasn’t spectacularly bright, as I recalled. The biggest question had always been who had found out and how.

Huh. “Text messages?” I guessed.

Alona grinned. “Left herself logged in to Facebook. Her inbox was full of his sleaze.”

I knew it.

She moved deeper into the room, fumbling for the light switch and waiting for me to catch up so she could turn it on. “We’ll find something. Trust me.”

But Edmund, if that was his name, was much better than Tamara “Daddy Issues” Lindt, because he’d taken every scrap of paper with him. Even the garbage cans were empty. Probably a wise choice when running a semiscam.

Except for a disturbingly wrinkled apple in the mini-fridge, there was no sign that anyone had even been here recently.

“Here,” Alona called faintly from the waiting room.

I poked my head through the door to find her crouching next to a stack of chairs. “What?” I asked.

“The chairs and stuff are rented.” She pointed at something on the bottom of a chair. “There’s a label with a company name and phone number.”

“So?”

She stood up. “So,” she said with exaggerated patience, “you need information about Malachi, like his real name. They’ll have it with his credit card info. Unless he’s running that kind of scam, too.” She frowned. “Let’s hope not.”

Oh, Lord.

“And how do you suggest we get that information? Break in? We don’t even know where that place is!” I did not especially treasure the idea of spending the rest of the day finding this place and then waiting for everyone to leave so we could get in, while Erin ran around town doing whatever she wanted.

“We could,” she said with a shrug. “But calling and asking them is a lot easier.”

“They’re not just going to give us his personal information,” I said in disbelief.

“Phone. Gimme.” She held her hand out.

“They’re not going to be able to hear you,” I reminded her. I crossed the room, digging my phone from my pocket.

She pursed her lips. “This would be so much easier if I could do this myself.” She scowled at me and she flickered. Her edges went soft for a second, and I could almost see through her.

I caught my breath. “Alona…”

Her eyes snapped shut, and she furrowed her brow in concentration, murmuring positive comments in a whisper I could barely hear, let alone understand.

But apparently it was the thought that counted and not the volume, because after a second, she stabilized, becoming fully solid once again.

“Are you all right? Do you need me to—”

She shook her head and held up her hand to cut me off.

Okay, evidently we weren’t discussing this issue.

After taking a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders. Then she snatched the phone from my hand, consulted the number on the bottom of the chair, and started dialing. “Call them and say…” She paused, clearly thinking. “Tell them you’re the landlord and all this furniture is supposed to be cleared out. You need the tenant’s contact information, all of it. And if you can’t get ahold of him, or someone’s not over here in the next ten minutes, you’re going to throw it all out.”