Victor slowly shook his head. “Whatever was going on at Vortex was a lot more dangerous than what was happening at Fogg Lake. That was why they tried to erase every scrap of evidence about it when they shut it down. Whoever took charge of that project did one hell of a thorough job.”

“ ‘Thorough’ is one word for it,” Harlan said. “ ‘Ruthless’ is another. If any of the Vortex staff survived, they did such a good job of hiding that neither my grandfather nor my father could find them, and trust me, they both looked—hard.”

“If Vortex was creating monsters, they must have been using some sort of paranormal tech,” Lucas said. “If the machine was not properly deactivated when the lab was destroyed, we should assume, until proven otherwise, that the device is in working condition.”

“Even if it isn’t functional,” Victor said, “we all know there will be no shortage of ambitious fools who think it can be made to operate again. And that means people will get killed.”

Lucas’s mouth tightened. “Harlan is right. We don’t have any choice. We need to combine forces to find Vortex. I’ll call security and get a team together—”

“No,” Harlan said. “Not yet. I don’t need a lot of your security people. They’ll get in the way and draw too much attention. Put the team on standby. First, I have to secure the cooperation of the oracle. Everything depends on her.”

Victor drummed his fingers on the desk. “What makes you think Olivia is the descendant of the woman in the painting, Rancourt?”

“I can’t be absolutely certain,” Harlan admitted. “But the odds are she’s the granddaughter of a woman named Grace Goodwin. According to my grandfather’s private files, Goodwin was identified as a researcher who may have been on the Vortex staff.”

“Your grandfather’s private files?” Victor snorted. “What the hell happened to them?”

Harlan shrugged. “Don’t tell me you were naive enough to believe the files you found in my father’s office were all of the Rancourt records.”

Victor’s mouth twisted. “We knew there was a high probability the Rancourts had hidden a few secrets.”

“My grandfather began collecting the private files when he established the Foundation,” Harlan said. “My father continued the practice. I inherited them.”

“Where are they?” Victor growled.

“Let’s talk about that some other time. Priorities.” Harlan opened his phone and pulled up the photo of another painting. “I want to show you something.”

He put the phone on the desk so that Victor and Lucas could both see it. They reacted very much as he had expected: Intrigued and curious at first. Then comprehension struck with the force of a bolt of lightning.

“Another oracle painting,” Victor said. “Looks like it was done by the same artist who did my Vortex lab picture. Same warning. Here there be monsters.”