Victor turned around and began to prowl the large room. He paused from time to time to contemplate one of the myriad paintings that covered the walls. More paintings, framed and unframed, were stacked on the floor. Some of the art that littered the space was valuable; some was not. Some was old. Some was new.

Victor didn’t collect the pictures because he expected them to increase in value. He had picked them up over the years because he was obsessed with the subject matter. Each was a depiction of the Oracle of Delphi.

In most of the pictures the Oracle was shown in the traditional pose, draped in robes and seated on a three-legged stool that straddled a crack in the floor of a cavern. In that position she inhaled the vapors that wafted up through the opening, went into a trance and delivered prophecies. There had been a fee, of course, but it was up to the client to interpret the cryptic prophecies.

The Oracle had been an extremely popular attraction for the ancient city of Delphi and a source of great revenue. North figured the operation had probably worked a lot like modern-day Las Vegas. You paid your money and you took your chances.

“It’s possible we’re dealing with a new, unidentified raider crew,” Victor mused. “But it doesn’t have that feel.”

North did not question the conclusion. Victor was very, very good at what he did because his intuition was extremely sharp when it came to predicting how the bad guys would act. He was not, however, infallible. When he screwed up there were usually a lot of fireworks.

“You mentioned there were no outward signs of violence,” North said. “Do you think someone used drugs on Dad?”

“Maybe. We will know more once we get him back here where the specialists can examine him. In the meantime, I want you to retrace Chandler’s footsteps yesterday and last night. Start at Swan Antiques.”

“Will the owner be cooperative?”

“I think so. Gwendolyn Swan doesn’t want any trouble with the Foundation. It’s not as if we’re blaming her for what happened to Chandler. We just need to find out what, exactly, she sold him and see if the information gives us a lead.”

North reflected briefly. “I’m good at finding people but I’m not so great when it comes to tracking down artifacts. I’m going to need help from a specialist, preferably someone who knows the local hot artifacts market in Seattle.”

“Lucas has been going through the files. He’s got a name for you.”

The door opened as if on cue. Lucas Pine walked into the room, a file in one hand. Silver haired, sophisticated and elegant even when casually dressed, he appeared at first glance to be Victor’s exact opposite. But the energy between the two of them was unmistakable. The pair had been devoted to each other for a couple of decades. Their wedding had been a huge, splashy, Las Vegas–style party.

“The name,” Lucas said in a voice that sounded like it had been trained for the stage, “is Sierra Raines.”