“Yes. She’ll meet you at the airport.”

“You want me to escort Dad back here?”

“No,” Victor said. “Your mother and some medics from Halcyon will handle that end of things. I’m sending you to Seattle because I want you to find out what happened to Chandler.”

Halcyon Manor was the private psychiatric hospital run by the Foundation. It specialized in treating diseases of the paranormal senses. North knew it all too well. He had spent a lot of time there in recent weeks getting fitted for the special crystal glasses that were supposed to keep him sane while he lost his night vision.

He steeled himself for what had to be said.

“Of course I’ll go to Seattle,” he said. “But under the circumstances I may not be the best investigator. You know what’s going on with my talent.”

“You haven’t lost it entirely and my intuition tells me you are the best person for this job.”

“Why?”

“Because your father’s last stop before he returned to the hotel was at an antiques shop that specializes in hot artifacts. He had contacted your mother to tell her that he had a lead on a relic that might have belonged to your grandfather. Chandler said he thought it might be an object that was tuned to Griffin Chastain’s psychic signature. But when Olivia LeClair from Lark & LeClair went through your father’s hotel room and belongings after he was taken to the hospital, she found no sign of an artifact.”

“Stolen?”

“There’s a high probability that is the case,” Victor said. “But if it’s tuned to Griffin Chastain’s signature—”

“Only another Chastain would recognize the relic. In other words, you don’t have any choice but to send me out on this case, because I’m the only Chastain available.”

Victor grunted. “That pretty much sums it up. Pack that bag and come in to headquarters. I’ll tell you everything I know before you go to the airport, but I’ll warn you up front, I don’t have a lot of information.”

Victor ended the connection.

North was already on the grand staircase, moving fast. He was used to packing in a hurry. It did not take long to throw the essentials into a backpack.

When he was ready he opened the gun safe, took out the holstered pistol, hoisted the pack and went back downstairs.

The steel-gray SUV was waiting inside the garage. He drove out through the front gate and headed toward the Strip. He did not bother to glance back at the Abyss. There was no need to make sure he had turned off the lights or locked the doors.

The house could take care of itself.

CHAPTER 5

Delbridge Loring stopped at the end of the long workbench, picked up the vintage radio and hurled it against the nearest wall. The artifact struck hard and fell to the floor. The plastic casing cracked. A knob fell off. The small glass screen shattered.

“You son of a bitch, Chandler Chastain, you cheated me.”