The Vanishing Stair (Truly Devious #2)(77)

“No shit,” Catalina said.

Slater gave his uncles a benign smile. “She usually goes with ‘oh, shit.’ Regardless, that particular turn of phrase should be interpreted as a sign that she’s annoyed.”

Olivia raised her brows. “Catalina isn’t the only one who is irritated. We do realize that the Foundation can’t keep track of every former employee, but really, how can you explain the fact that Nyla Trevelyan was able to set herself up here in Fogg Lake a couple of decades ago and run a successful drug ring for years without drawing the attention of your ever-vigilant cleaners?”

Victor grunted. “My cleaners weren’t even around until five years ago. Rancourt’s crowd was in charge before that, and they bought the story that York, or maybe I should say Trevelyan, had died along with her husband and best friend in the lab fire. As long as we’re asking questions, how do you explain the fact that a drug lord like Trevelyan was able to operate right under the noses of everyone in a town full of people endowed with psychic abilities?”

“‘Drug lord’ may be a bit of a stretch,” Lucas said.

“Just because a lot of people in this town can detect various kinds of paranormal energy and see auras doesn’t mean we can read minds,” Catalina said. “It’s not as if Nyla Trevelyan is a simple con artist. She was a very good herbalist. A lot of the locals benefited from her remedies. None of us had any reason not to trust her.”

“You certainly can’t claim the Foundation has a better track record,” Olivia pointed out.

Victor snorted. “You know what they say—it takes a psychic to fool a psychic.” He paused for emphasis. “And it takes a psychic to catch a psychic. Which is why the Foundation exists, Ms. Lark.”

Catalina opened her mouth to respond. Slater moved fast to redirect the discussion.

“Olivia, we got your message about Vortex,” he said.

“Did you?” Olivia nodded. “Good. I wasn’t sure what it meant and I was still groggy from the drug. But I thought I heard one of the clones say the client thought I was her ticket into Vortex. They let me use the bathroom. I took a chance and left the note on the mirror.”

Slater looked at Victor and Lucas. “Speaking of the clones, what do you know about them?”

Victor frowned. “Clones?”

“Just a figure of speech,” Catalina said. “That’s how the woman who witnessed the kidnapping in Seattle described them. We thought she was talking about twins. It wasn’t until the Oracle found a record of triplets who were born to a woman with a Fogg Lake connection that we realized the truth.”

Victor put down his whiskey. A great stillness came over him.

“What’s this about an oracle?” he repeated.

“That’s what we call the librarian,” Olivia explained. “It’s a tradition around here.”

“I see.” Victor looked intrigued but he did not ask any more questions.

“About the triplets,” Slater said.

“Right.” Victor hoisted his whiskey glass again. “The family name is Harkins. The one we picked up in Seattle is Deke Harkins. He finally woke up and started talking. From what we can tell, he and his brothers have been running cons and working the hot artifacts market for years. They did a fair amount of drug dealing on the side. They also did odd jobs as enforcers. Muscle for hire.”

“They obviously have some talent,” Slater said. “At least enough to sense the vibes in paranormal artifacts. People who can’t pick up the energy infused in hot relics don’t last long in that business. Pretty sure the Harkinses are low-level aura readers, too. That’s probably why they were successful as con artists and drug dealers.”

“Aura reading makes it easier to identify the marks and potential addicts,” Lucas said.

Catalina caught Slater’s eye. She knew they were both thinking the same thing. There was one other piece of evidence that indicated that the Harkinses had a measure of talent. They had understood immediately what an icer could do to an aura.

“The question is, how did Nyla Trevelyan get involved with the triplets?” Slater continued. “She’s been more or less stuck here in Fogg Lake for a couple of decades. She left town only occasionally. How did she find them?”

Lucas swirled the whiskey in his glass. “Good question. We’re still working that angle.”

Olivia paused her glass in midair. “I may be able to help you with that aspect of the investigation, but I’ll warn you up front that my memories are fuzzy because of the drug.”

“Go on,” Lucas said.

“At some point I heard one of the triplets tell Nyla, ‘We missed her. Don’t worry, we’ll get her.’”

“Meaning me, no doubt,” Catalina said.

“Yes.” Olivia looked at Victor and Lucas. “Nyla really lost it then. She screamed at the triplet. She said, ‘This is what I get for trying to keep it in the family.’”

Victor and Lucas exchanged glances.

“Well, now,” Lucas said softly. “Isn’t that interesting? We have no record of Nyla Trevelyan, or rather Alma York, having any family—certainly no close blood relatives.”

Victor sat back in his chair. “Doesn’t mean there aren’t some. Our ancestry records are pathetic.”