“They are willing to risk everything just to get into the old Vortex lab? I’m sure it’s worth a fortune, but there are other ways to make money, much safer ways.”

“Some things are infinitely more valuable than money,” Harlan said.

Olivia’s mouth tightened. “Power?”

Harlan nodded.

Olivia finished her wine and lowered the glass. “It’s just so hard to believe Gwendolyn Swan might know the man who murdered my mother.”

“What do you know about Swan?”

Olivia released the mantel and began to prowl the room. “Not much, really. We’ve never socialized. We’re not personal friends. She’s been in business in Seattle for a few years. Caters to the paranormal trade. She obviously has a talent for picking up the psychic vibe in artifacts and relics. Collectors and other dealers respect her. The Foundation does business with her. If you want more information, ask Victor and Lucas.”

“I will. Do you happen to know when she opened her business?”

Olivia stopped. “No. I didn’t pay much attention to the paranormal artifacts market until Catalina and I opened Lark and LeClair a few months ago. We realized right away that the psychic antiques world was a potential business opportunity for us. Swan was one of our first customers. Do you think your father might have been aware of her?”

“I checked the Rancourt files on my phone the day we went to see her. There’s no record of her, at least not under the name of Swan. I didn’t do an exhaustive search, though. There wasn’t time. It would be interesting to know more about her.”

“If she murdered my mother for that damned camera—”

“Stop right there,” Harlan said. “We don’t know that she had anything to do with your mother’s death. She may be an opportunist. Or simply a small business owner who got caught up in something dangerous that she doesn’t understand.”

“She’s involved, Harlan. No coincidences, remember?”

“I agree the probability is high but I think we’ve done enough speculating for tonight. We’re running on empty. Let’s eat dinner and go to bed.”

Olivia wrapped her arms around her midsection and went back to the window. “You’re right. We need sleep. You can have my old bedroom.”

Her edgy vibe was getting stronger. Stress, no doubt. Understandable. She had been through a lot lately. But his gut told him there was something else going on.

A thought struck him. They had been generating a lot of heat in the back of the SUV last night. If they hadn’t been interrupted by the damned recorder music there would have been some very intense sex.

She was probably regretting the whole incident, maybe worried he was expecting them to share a bed tonight.

Maybe he had been hoping to do exactly that.

Social skills.

“There are two bedrooms, right?” he asked.