“Weird things are happening.” Flicking off her shoes, she grabbed the remote volume to turn down the oddly comforting atmospheric music that had been playing when she’d come in the room. Lara couldn’t believe that she’d just blurted that out to him.

“Like what?” His voice took on a concerned note.

“I was chased through the Père Lachaise Cemetery today by a woman.”

“Really?” The register in his voice rose.

“You think I’d make that up?” She sank into the pillow and crossed her legs.

“Did you call the police?”

Lara sighed. Of course he’d tell her to call the police. Perhaps she should call the police. “No. I was rescued by a man at the circus.”

“You really need to start at the beginning.” He was clicking a pen; she could hear it snapping.

“I ran, like, two miles.”

“You can run two miles?”

She loved that he could calm her down with his banter. “Yes, Ben. I can run two miles. Anyway, there was a man sweeping a courtyard. When I ran by, he saw that I was scared. He motioned for me to come into the courtyard and I hid in a railcar that was also a circus museum. Here is where it gets really crazy. This man showed me a painting of the real Cecile Cabot, not the woman from the painting that I have. This Cecile Cabot died in the 1920s here in Paris. Now I don’t know who it was who helped raise me. After that, he let me rummage through old circus memorabilia and I found something.”

“What?”

“Two more journals from Cecile. Hopefully, I’ll find out more answers there.” She was scanning them as she spoke to him, picking out sentences here and there. It was the same voice, the same writing. Checking the date, she saw that it picked up where the other book left off. She had the next volume. These books were in worse shape than the first one, so she’d definitely need Barrow’s help reconstructing some of the damaged pages. She couldn’t wait to show them to him.

“Is the dead bolt on your door?”

“It is.”

“Have you checked the closets? Do it while I’m on the phone.”

“I checked them while I was on with my mother.”

“And you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, just shaken up.”

He inhaled like he was about to speak, but then hesitated.

“What?” she pressed. When he’d done this in the past, there was always a kernel of wisdom in his next comment.

“You don’t think it’s odd that you ran right into the place where you found the journals?”

“You think someone led me there?” Of course Lara realized the chances of running randomly into Le Cirque de Fragonard were slim.