Olivia took a few deep breaths and listened intently for the music. There it was, piercing the smoky vibe that flooded the maze. She started forward. She was turning another sharp corner when she realized that at some point she had dropped the wrench. There was no going back to find it. She still had the camera. Better than a wrench, she thought.

She was just so exhausted. Maybe she could risk a short pause to catch her breath. She glanced down at the vibrant green grass, saw the ominous-looking mushrooms and changed her mind.

The recorder led her around another corner.

A massive hand slapped across her mouth and nose, cutting off her breath. She was hauled back off her feet.

“You’re not going anywhere, bitch,” Spode said. “You murdered me. You and your mother and your grandmother. I may be dying, but I’ll watch you bleed out first.”

Desperate to catch her breath, she clawed at Spode’s arm and then went after his hand. She managed to pry two big fingers free. She gasped for breath.

Spode appeared oblivious to her struggles.

He talked to himself as he dragged her down another corridor.

“Fucking Foundation,” he hissed. “The garden is going to go up in flames. Everything my father and I built will be destroyed. Rancourt will pay. They’ll all pay. I’m not dead yet.”

He was right about one thing, Olivia thought. The garden was about to explode in flames. She could feel the heat in the maze rising. Out of the corner of her eye she saw an emerald green leaf ignite. The ultraviolet orchid next to it flared, the snakelike bloom now a torch.

The recorder music faded as Spode dragged her in the wrong direction. She had to get free before she lost the vibe.

She clutched the camera in one hand, but in her current position there was no way she could focus energy through the lens to aim it at Spode. She reminded herself she did not need the lens to summon the holographic images.

She concentrated fiercely even as Spode dragged her around another corner. The life-sized hologram of the Speed Date Killer snapped into view inches away from Spode. He jolted to a stop.

“What the fuck?” he rasped.

Olivia fell to the ground and realized somewhat vaguely that he had dropped her so that he could grab the recorder off his belt. She rolled to her knees and looked up.

The Speed Date Killer blocked Spode’s path, mouth twisted in rage, knife extended. Motionless.

“Shit,” Spode said. He rounded on Olivia. “This is one of your tricks, LeClair. That picture is from the camera, isn’t it?”

She had one chance. She focused through the lens, found the wavelengths she needed to identify with his aura for maximum effect and pressed the button.

Nothing happened.