“Yes, it does,” Olivia said. She was on the opposite side of the table, a notebook open in front of her. “So the legend is true. Vortex managed to produce paranormal weapons in the form of flutes, and we know for a fact that the man who murdered my mother possessed one. So does Ink, the young man who was trying to lure me last night.”

“Maybe this person named Ink is the son of the original Piper,” Harmony suggested. “Or someone with a similar talent. The real question is, why do they need an oracle? Whoever is behind the attempt to kidnap you, Olivia, must be desperate to take the risk of attracting the attention of the Foundation.”

“Very desperate,” Harlan said. “There’s a more personal entry in the logbook that you might find interesting.”

He read it aloud.

“Aurora suspects I am involved in another affair with a lab technician. She has not confronted me this time, however. Perhaps she has finally accepted the fact that these relationships are not matters of the heart. She is a scientist, after all. I’m sure she understands that my efforts to impregnate some of the lab personnel are experiments that will provide valuable information about the genetics of paranormal abilities. My talent is extraordinary. I owe it to science to produce as many offspring as possible . . .”

“Hah.” Olivia shook her head. “Alexander Winston was not much of a psychic, if you ask me. If he couldn’t see disaster coming in that situation, he had no business bragging about his paranormal talents.”

Harlan looked up. “Disaster did, indeed, strike. Listen to this.”

He read the final entry in the logbook.

“I am dying. That bitch Aurora has murdered me. I saw it in her eyes. I know now the accident in the lab yesterday was her doing. I have only hours left. I am growing so weak I can barely lift this pen. I cannot believe she would destroy me merely because I conducted some scientific experiments with a couple of lab techs. Unbelievable. My life’s work, ruined. And now she will get the credit for the development of the weapons . . .”

“Well,” Harmony said, “no one ever claimed that possessing some paranormal talent keeps people from doing dumb shit.”

“That was recently pointed out to me,” Harlan said.

Olivia glared. “I did not say you were a dumbass.”

Harmony looked at her with an expression of acute interest. “You called Harlan Rancourt a dumbass?”

“Mr. Rancourt has chosen to take my words out of context,” Olivia said. “I have tried to correct the record. However, if he continues to give the wrong impression, I will be happy to let his interpretation of my statement stand, because he will have proven that his version is, indeed, accurate.”