I nodded, and Ashland and I walked around, careful not to touch anything. I was happy to note that whatever fear had struck me the night before, whatever creepy apparition I had believed I had heard, was gone now. The warmth of the day and the cheery sunshine had pushed the shadows away, taming them back to the darkness where they belonged. We walked through the downstairs, except the Blue Room, and didn’t notice anything out of place. The detective followed us around as we did our inventory. The mantelpieces were there. The paintings from the LeMans family, very expensive paintings of antebellum pets, were still leaning against the wall, wrapped in paper. They had been Mia’s find.

Finally, we climbed up the wooden spiral staircase, and I followed Ashland as we toured each room. The first room had once been the guest room, and all was in order. We surveyed each room with nothing to report. The door to Calpurnia’s room was standing open, and the chalk markings were still on the floor, evidence of Mia’s amateur séance. I shivered again, remembering the anguished cries of Mon dieu! Ashland put his hand on my shoulder.

“Nope, nothing missing here either,” he said. “The only room left is the Blue Room. Is it possible for us to go in there, or should we wait?” I could hear the strain in his voice. For the first time, I noticed that he hadn’t changed since the night before. He looked crumpled and tired.

Detective Simmons nodded. “Sure, let’s go see if they’re finished.” She walked down the staircase ahead of us.

I grabbed Ashland’s hand. “Do you want me to go in? I mean, you don’t have to right now.”

He gave me his best college football star smile. “No, I’ll be okay. I know he wasn’t a friendly guy, but he helped me through some rough times. I need to see what happened. Let’s go.” We headed to the Blue Room, now empty of emergency workers, except for a few stragglers talking quietly in a corner near the printer.

Immediately, my eyes were drawn to my desk. The music box was gone! The one that one of the interns had handed me the day before. I had set it on my desk when I came downstairs. Now it was gone.

“The music box is gone.” I walked to my desk and looked underneath it. “Can I pull out the drawers?”

Detective Simmons looked at one of the other officers. “Yeah, we’re done in here,” he said. The pair left us with the detective. I opened the drawers on the off chance that I had stuffed the box inside one, but they were all empty.

“What did it look like?” Ashland asked.

“It was about eight inches long, maybe five inches wide, rectangular. It had an ornate domed lid, probably made from ivory with enamel and wood inlays. There was a dancing lady on the top—Rachel Kowalski brought it to me yesterday. I set it here.” Puzzled, I stood up and tapped my desk. I looked again and again, and it was certainly gone.