“Photos. I’m looking at them now. With the scorpion, we seem to have another home-protection ritual, this one specifically to keep away enemies. The oil has to burn for a few days, and most of it’s still there. You were up at the house yesterday, weren’t you?”

“So this ritual is to protect them from me? Cool. Doesn’t work, though.”

“I can’t imagine anything that would. So we definitely have someone practicing Santeria. Presumably someone high on the group’s food chain. One of the girls isn’t going to construct a hidden room in the toolshed.”

“I know Santeria doesn’t condone human sacrifice, but if we’re dealing with a wannabe, maybe they’re bending the rules. If chickens don’t work, try dead girls. Any link with the crime-scene stuff?”

“That bead Claire was clutching could be significant for the pewter or from the symbolism. Could even be a cheap stand-in for silver. I’ll keep looking. Anything else?”

“No, Jesse’s doing the background checks.”

“Got the guys doing the grunt work, huh?”

“After years of doing it for you, Paige, and Lucas, I’m liking this a whole lot better.”

“Just don’t get used to it.”

EVIDENCE OF SANTERIA did not mean we’d found our killer, any more than if I’d found evidence of a Catholic mass. But these ritualistic religions did attract fringe types who misunderstood the beliefs and focused on the occultlike aspects.

Now I needed to figure out who was the practitioner. The best place to find evidence of that would be in the house. If there was an alarm, I’d be out of luck, but I could always hope they were the sort who left without turning it on.

Even better—the back door was latched but not locked. I eased it open, bracing for the squeal of an alarm. Silence. I slipped in and looked around. I found a security panel, but it was green. Unarmed.

As I crept into the hall, a phone rang. On the third ring, it stopped. I paused, expecting an answering machine.

“Hello?” A man’s voice. Alastair. Shit. That’s why the door was open and the alarm off.

The voice came from the front of the house. I cast a blur spell, and began a slow retreat to the kitchen door. That sleep spell would have come in really handy right about now. Damn. I needed to find a cemetery.

“Ice cream, huh?” He laughed. “No, that’s fine. They could use the break and I could use the peace and quiet to finish this ledger. Take as long as you want, Meg.”

Okay, he was busy in his office and the girls were enjoying after-lunch ice cream.