“You said to call you later,” I said. “Is this late enough?”

He swore.

I smiled. “Couldn’t resist. Go on back to sleep. I’ll call in the morning.”

Another yawn. “No, I’d better take the update while I can.” A squeak of the bed, as if he was sitting up. “So what’s happening?”

I told him. He didn’t laugh at my fake black mass lead, just said, “Those mannequin props don’t sound like anything from a black mass, real or fake. What time of year did you say that guy stumbled on the stuff?”

“Last fall.” I thumped back onto the pillow. “And something tells me it was late October.”

“Yeah. I’m betting it was on display because it was supposed to be on display.”

“A haunted house for Halloween.”

“It’s a possibility. Ask around.”

We talked until I was the one yawning. He chuckled and said, “Now it’s my turn to keep you awake.”

“I can just hang up.”

“That would be rude.”

“Yep.”

“Okay, I’ll let you go. And I won’t pester you with a dozen texts tomorrow, but call, okay? I know you don’t want me holding your hand. But toss me a bone. I just spent two days listening to lectures on research techniques. I’m dying here.”

“And who signed you up for the conference?”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Aren’t you done anyway? I thought your last thingy was canceled.”

“Thingy? Glad you take such an interest. Someone asked me to sub on a panel tomorrow afternoon, and since you don’t want me around ...”

“There’s a hot chick on the panel, isn’t there?”

He snorted. “Just an old colleague of Dad’s that I couldn’t say no to. Meaning I’m stuck here another day at least, so you’re stuck amusing me. Got it?”

I smiled. “Got it.” I yawned some more.

“Okay, okay, I’m hanging up. Call tomorrow, though. Preferably before three A.M.”

A RAP AT the door woke me. I groaned, rolled over, and squinted at the bedside clock. 7:12. Another rap, louder now.

“Miss Levine?” A woman’s voice.

I rolled out of bed, grabbed jeans and a T-shirt, and yanked them on as I called, “Just a sec!”

I opened the door to a smiling middle-aged woman holding a takeout cup of coffee and a bag. I was pretty sure this place didn’t have room service ...

“I work at the coffee shop around the corner,” she said before I could ask. “I was asked to deliver this to you at seven o’clock.”

“Okay...” I took the bag and coffee.

“There’s a message, too.” She took a sheet from her pocket and read it. “If I had to wake up at an ungodly hour, so do you. Get to work and don’t forget to call me.”

Adam.