Through the hazy remnants of my hangover, I felt less than chivalrous for running out to Eccentric Circles with the Inspectre and Connor under the guise of business/drinking rather than finding out where she’d got to and protecting her.

“I’m sorry, Jane,” I said. “I didn’t mean to leave you in the lurch like that, especially with Jason Charles headhunting you…”

“Don’t worry,” she said, surprisingly optimistic. “I survived my first twenty-six years without you to watch over me. The concern’s cute, though.” Having gotten out of the Sectarian Defense League’s offices alive had put her in a good mood. She ruffled my hair like I was her dog.

“Well, sorry anyway,” I repeated lamely.

“Younever have to apologize for being too kind, Simon,” she said and hugged me again.

I was on the verge of apologizing for my apology, but just then Mrs. Teasley cleared her throat. I turned, but as usual she wasn’t even looking up from her table.

“Janey, dearie,” she said with a flourish through the wet coffee grounds.

Janey, dearie?Since when had they become best pals? While I might still be wary of Jane, it was clear that she had already gotten Mrs. Teasley’s seal of approval in the Department. “I see you getting kissed by a dark-haired young man in the near future.”

“You mean like this?” she said and grabbed me, once again taking me by surprise.

Jane wrapped her hands into my hair and kissed me out of nowhere. Nothing like this had happened since the time I dragged her back to my apartment after finding her in the alley, and this time I took a moment to actually enjoy the non-painkiller-induced oddity of it all. But then I pulled away gently, embarrassed to see that this time Mrs. Teasley was staring up at us, smiling.

“Yes,” the old woman said as she plopped her hands deep into the coffee. “Exactlylike that!”

Her cat swished its bushy gray tail in approval. Or what I imagined was catlike approval anyway.

I turned to Jane and looked at her with as much seriousness as I could. “Jane-” I started, but she cut me off.

“Yes, Iknow,” she said. “You don’t tongue kiss with evil. I get it. You’re like a broken record. What’s it going to take for you to believe I’m on your side now?”

“There’s more to it than that,” I said.

I stood there awkwardly, the hiss of the espresso machine filling the silence like a low-flying plane. I wasn’t sure what to say to correct the situation, but it was Mrs. Teasley who jumped in with a different awkward matter altogether.

“Not having any of your usual troubles with this one?” she asked me sweetly.

I cocked my head at her.

“Well, Simon,” she said. I could see the matter-of-factness in her eyes. She dabbed her fingers in the wet pile on her table. “The coffee grounds never lie. They’ve told me that your trysting has never met with much success.” She looked unexpectedly tired just then. “I suspect it’s the same story for all of us with such talents.”

She fell silent and scritched at her cat.

I gave what she said a moment to sink in: Was I having my usual trouble with Jane? Maybe Mrs. Teasley was on to something with her question. Perhaps it was time to cut her some slack. She was proving far more observant and asking the right kinds of questions. Ihadn’t picked up a single vibe from Jane or anything I had touched of hers.

I didn’t know why she was exempt from my powers. Maybe I was actually learning to control them. If so, I had Connor to thank for that.

As if just the mere thought of Connor was enough to summon him, he appeared from between the curtains that separated the coffeehouse from the movie theater. He stiffened at the sight of Jane sitting with Mrs. Teasley, but I shot him a look that saidDon’t start. I felt a moment of triumph as he softened, even if ever so slightly, and then he focused on me once again.

“How’s your head today?” he asked. By the time we had left Eccentric Circles, we were both experiencing trouble walking.

“You don’t need to shout!” I said as I grabbed my head and pretended to reel. Any hints of tension seemed to dissipate as he laughed.

“Sorry,” he said in a mock whisper. “You want to go over what I’ve discovered out back or you want me to hit it with you right here?”

I self-consciously put a hand on Jane’s shoulder and squeezed it. “Right here is fine. If it’s got anything to do with her former employer, I think she needs to be in on it. They’re practically hunting her anyway.”

“Fine,” he said, but his tension from yesterday came back immediately. I knew he wasn’t happy to have Jane involved, but I think he also knew I wasn’t going to back down this time.

“Lay it on us,” I said, and sat down next to Jane.

Connor threw himself on the sofa sitting kitty-corner to us. “You know, having the delivery address for that wooden fish certainly came in handy when I talked to some of the recently living this morning.”

“Was it Irene? Did you talk to her?” I asked, tensing at the thought. At the mention of Irene’s name, Connor looked briefly at Jane and sighed before turning back to me.

“I have cases on my plate other than your little…client,” he said. “Anyway, no, I didn’t have contact with Irene. I’ve been communing with a few other spirits crossing over the past few days and I was able to glean a little other side info from it all.”

He reached in his coat and brought out his Palm Pilot.

“Fancy,” I said. “We in a new budget cycle or did you get a raise?”

“I wish,” he said, looking up. “It’s a loaner.”

He stylused down the screen until he found what he was looking for. “Here we go! We’ve been noticing a lot more restless souls than usual processing through the Department lately, and most of them are familiar with the address on the manifest. Thing is, kid, they’re all experiencing the same type of memory loss and displacement. They’re either like that ghost in the alley or like Irene.”

Connor scrolled farther along. I would have bet money he was feeling all Six Degrees of Lieutenant Columbo right now.

“So what’s the address for?” I asked

“Hold your damn horses, kid.” He slowed his pace, scrolled back a few screens, and stopped. “Ah, here it is! I had to piece it together from what several of the spirits said, but they thought it belonged to a group called the Salvador Breton Foundation although none of them could remember anything clearer than that. That name mean anything to either of you?”

Jane shook her head. Mrs. Teasley did so as well, even though she wasn’t really a part of our conversation.

“Don’t ask me,” she chimed in. “Heavens, it’s rare that I ever deal in specifics anyway, isn’t it, boys?”

“You, Simon?” Connor asked, ignoring her.

“The only foundations I’m familiar with are antique houses and artists’ trusts, but this group does sound vaguely familiar.”

Connor grabbed my by the shoulder and sat me down. “Close your eyes, kid. We’re gonna figure this out my way.”

“Is this gonna hurt?” I asked, only half joking.

“Only if you make me slap you,” he said, and covered my eyes with his right hand cupped over them. “I want you to relax. Now listen to the words again. The Salvador Breton Foundation. I want you to visualize them, twirling and spinning, trying to fit into place like jigsaw pieces…”

I felt silly letting myself be guided through a creative visualization, but if it somehow tied into Irene’s death and our pursuit of her killers, I would give it my best shot.

“Think about the details so far, kid. The oracle on the subway, Cyrus Mandalay’s shop, the Ghostsniffing operation…”

“Nothing,” I said, moving to push Connor’s hand away from my eyes, but he held it there still.

“Now think larger, kid, like the wheels of the cosmos are just churning away, things clicking into place for reasons that are becoming increasingly clear.”

“This isn’t going to work,” I said. “I’ve tried to fit myself into this puzzle. Why me? Why am I in the midst of it all?”