Sara Jane dabbed at her eyes. The tissue still in her grip, she nudged her hair back. She had cut it, and it made her look even more professional as it bumped about her shoulders in a straight yellow sheet. “I brought a picture of him,” she said, digging in her purse to pull out a snapshot and push it at me. I looked down to see her and a young man on the deck of one of the steamers that take tourists out on the Ohio River. They were both smiling. His arm was around her, and she was leaning into him. She looked happy and relaxed in blue jeans and a blouse.

I took a moment to study Dan’s picture. He was clean-cut, sturdy looking, and wearing a plaid shirt. Just the kind of man one would expect a farm girl to bring home to Mom and Dad.

“Can I keep this?” I asked, and she nodded. “Thanks.” I tucked it in my bag, not comfortable with how her eyes were fixed upon the picture as if she could bring him back by her will alone. “Do you know how we can get in touch with his relatives? He may have had a family emergency and needed to leave without notice.”

“Dan is an only child,” she said, dabbing at her nose with the crumpled tissue. “Both his parents are gone. They were serfed on a farm up north. Life expectancy isn’t high for a farmer.”

“Oh.” I didn’t know what else to say. “Technically, we can’t enter his apartment until he’s declared missing. You don’t happen to have a key, do you?”

“Yes. I—” She blushed through her makeup. “I let his cat in when he works late.”

I glanced down at the lie-detecting amulet in my lap as it briefly shifted from green to red. She was lying, but I didn’t need an amulet to figure that out. I said nothing, not wanting to embarrass her further by making her admit she had the key for other, more romantic reasons.

“I was there today about seven,” she said, eyes downcast. “Everything looked fine.”

“Seven in the morning?” Edden uncrossed his arms and levered himself upright. “Isn’t that when you—you witches, I mean—are tucked in bed?”

She gazed up at him and nodded. “I’m Mr. Kalamack’s personal secretary. He works in the mornings and evenings, so my schedule is split. Eight to noon in the morning and four to eight in the afternoon. It took a while to become accustomed to it, but with four hours for myself in the afternoon, I was able to spend more time with… Dan,” she finished.

“Please,” the young woman pleaded suddenly, her gaze shifting between Edden and me. “I know something’s wrong. Why won’t anyone help me?”