"No sense in waiting to get started," said Barnes. "Every minute is precious. Mr. Schell, make yourself at home. I'll let the staff know you are to have complete access to the entire estate."

We all stood, save Mrs. Barnes, who, I just then noticed, had given herself up to silent tears. Her genuine grief made me feel ten times the impostor. Her husband moved around from behind the desk and took the seat next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

Schell and I were the first out of the room. As we walked the maze of hallways through the palatial house back to its front entrance, the boss quickly whispered to me under his breath, "Keep her in your sights constantly. She's a wild card. I want to know everything she does." I nodded, and then he dropped back and waited for our passenger.

As I reached the Cord, Antony stood holding the door open on the passenger side. Eventually, Schell and Miss Hush exited the house and walked down the drive to the car. She gathered up her dress but, before slipping into the backseat, requested that she be allowed to ride up front. The big man opened the front door, and she slid in. Schell held the door open instead of letting Antony close it. Antony then went around, got in behind the wheel, and started the car.

"Follow Miss Hush's directives to the letter," he said to us over the turning of the engine.

"Gentlemen," she said, "please, call me Lydia."

"Thomas," said Schell and again shook her hand.

"Thomas, from what Mr. Barnes has told me of your reputation, you must already be aware that the girl is dead."

"No," said Schell. "I hadn't picked that fact up."

"I wouldn't tell Barnes and his wife until we find her."

"Naturally," said Schell.

"We'll find her, though," she said. "I've seen it. Henry and young Diego here will be with me when I do."

Upon hearing our real names, I squirmed a little beneath my turban, and Antony's head whipped around.

"You've done your homework," said Schell, smiling.

"No work at all," she said.

Then he shut the door, Antony gave it the gas, and we were off.

SLEIGHT OF MOUTH

The Cord sat at the edge of a field that had been burnt brown by the summer sun and now was strewn with fallen leaves from the woods that bordered it in the distance. The sky was bright blue, and there was a cool and steady breeze. We had the windows rolled down, and both Antony and I sat in the front seat. The big man was smoking his third cigarette since we'd stopped forty-five minutes earlier. Off to our left, halfway across the field, Lydia Hush traipsed slowly in wide circles, talking to herself. It was the fourth such stop we'd made since leaving Barnes's place.

"This detail's a snooze and a half," said Antony, blowing smoke.

"Miss Hush's powers seem somewhat less than startling," I said.

"Well, one thing's for sure, not that we should talk, but that name's phony as a three-dollar bill."

"I thought it was poetic," I said.

"Poetic, maybe. Phony, for sure. Besides that, though, Miss Hush is a fine-looking woman, even if she's got the complexion of a snowball."

"She must live under a rock," I said.

"Did you see the boss's face when she coughed up our real names?"

"I doubt she could see his surprise, because he covered it with that smile."

"Yeah, the business smile," said Antony. "Sleight of mouth."

"Maybe his best trick," I said.

"Do you think she pulled that information out of a dream?" he asked.

"I don't know. She seems like she could either be a con or the real thing, if there's any such thing as the real thing. Schell's pretty much convinced me there isn't."

Antony blew a smoke ring, then flicked his cigarette butt out the window. "Once I was with this traveling show in Georgia for a few weeks, wrestling a bear-"

"Here we go," I said.

"No, it's true. The sorriest fucking bear in the world. It was sort of like rolling your grandmother, like moving furniture. Had to quit; I felt sorry for the bear. Anyway, with that show, there was this old hag, and I mean hag. She sat in a tent and you went in and paid your dime and she'd tell you your future. And for an extra nickel she'd tell you the day you were gonna die."

"Sounds like fun," I said.

"We're talking the loneliest of occupations," said Antony. "But in the short time I was with that crap outfit two people actually took her up on the nickel special. One was a local guy in a little town outside of Atlanta. She told him he had two days to live. Two days later, sure as shit, he's walking home from work and gets struck by lightning. Blood boils, head pops like a grape."

"She got lucky," I said.

"That's pretty damn lucky. Well, not for the guy. But there was another guy too. A midget who was with the show. He went to see her after the first guy got hit by lightning. The midget's show name was Major Minor. He dressed in a military outfit; was a real self-important little prick. The hag gave him a date in six years. So what? Right? Who's gonna remember that? But about maybe eight years later, I ran into Bunny Franchot, the Alligator Girl, one of the most screwed-up-looking broads I ever knew, in a carnival in South Jersey. She'd been with the outfit in Georgia when I was there. We got to talking, and it came out that the Major, who had this Model T rigged so he could drive it standing up, went out one night, got loaded, and ran himself into a tree. He'd forgotten the prediction, but Bunny never did. It was the exact day she predicted."

I shook my head.

"There's more bullshit in heaven and earth, than you can dream up in your scenario," said Antony.

"Well put," I said.

"Now," he said, "go out there and tell Miss Hush it's time for lunch."

I adjusted my turban, opened the door, and got out. My legs were stiff from sitting all morning, and it felt good to be out of the car. I took my time crossing the field. As I approached, she turned to face me.

"Are you feeling anything, Miss Hush?" I asked as I drew near. I didn't bother with the Indian accent, since she already knew who we were.

"Cold," she said, and I could see she was shivering slightly.

"Does that mean we're close?" I asked.

"No, it just means I'm cold," she said and smiled. It was a real smile, not that vague one she'd flashed at the Barnes place. This time I thought I caught a glimpse of her true self.

"Antony wants to get something to eat," I said. "Is that all right with you?"

"Okay," she said and walked up beside me. She was beautiful in a kind of fairy-tale way, and I thought about a story I'd once read called "The Snow Queen." Her closeness to me made me nervous to begin with, but when she put her hand on my shoulder as we walked, I had to swallow hard.

Of course, the silence was too much to bear, so I said, "And what will it be like when you discover the location?"

"I'll feel very tired, very tired. In my mind, I'll begin to dream, standing straight up, and I'll see poor Charlotte. Maybe she'll tell me where she's hidden. Or I might see the place in my mind before I see it with my eyes."

"Why do you talk while you're walking around?" I asked.

"I'm not talking. I'm singing to pass the time until something happens."

"Have you found lost people before?" I asked.

"Everybody's lost in some way," she said. "I found you, didn't I, hiding beneath a turban?"

I'd been reminded of my identity once too often in recent days and the frustration of it made me bolder. "What are you hiding, Miss Hush?"

"Plenty," she said and removed her hand from my shoulder. "And it's Lydia."

"How's the fishing?" asked Antony as we drew near the car. He began to open the door to get out and do his chauffeur thing.

"Nothing yet," she said, smiled, and waved for him not to bother getting the door for her.