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“No. Her name is Eleanor Dumaresq, and I have a feeling she’s seen more than a couple of centuries go by.”
“Then wear the damn amulet I gave you. It will protect you from the worst of her spells.” She hesitated, and an edge of concern crept into her voice. “Do you need help?”
His gaze went to the bathroom door again. Maddie kept insisting he couldn’t cope with Eleanor and Hank alone, and maybe she was right. But he also knew there was no one in the Circle close enough to help him at the moment. “Mack’s turned up in Taurin Bay. I’ll use him if I have to.”
“I have a feeling you will need him, cowboy. I suggest you call him now. And keep in touch.”
“Will do.” The tone of her voice told him her suggestion was more an order.
He hung up and glanced at his watch. Six o’clock. Mack should be awake by now. He punched the agent’s number.
“Yes?” The gruff tone told him he’d been correct in his guess, but only just.
“Mack, Jon Barnett here.”
“Really? What’s wrong?”
The sarcastic edge to Mack’s voice made him smile. “You asked me to call if I got any information. I’m doing so.”
“Wonders never cease,” Mack mused dryly. “What have you got?”
“I think you’d better check the background of a woman called Eleanor Dumaresq. She slipped a drug into my drink last night and tried to pump me for information. It might be worth finding out what happened to her late husband, as well as what properties he owned in the area besides the Sherbrook Inn.”
“You think she’s involved with the missing kids?”
“I think it’s likely, but I’ve no evidence to prove it at this point.”
“We’ll keep an eye on her.”
“You might also want to keep an eye on Hank Stewart. He runs the Sherbrook Inn and, I’m pretty sure, works for Eleanor.”
“Will do.” Mack hesitated, and Jon could almost hear the mental gears shifting up a notch. “I heard there was a fire at the inn last night.”
The big man’s voice was neutral. He knows, Jon thought. “Really?”
“A young woman fitting the description of Madeline Smith was rescued by a man remarkably similar to yourself.”
“I wasn’t staying at the inn last night.”
“Maybe not. But I checked the register, and a Madeline Smith was.”
Jon swore under his breath. He’d forgotten about the register.
Mack continued on. “And two nights ago, you were also registered at the inn—and staying in the same room.”
Jon ran a hand through his hair. He knew he’d better give Mack some information, or the agent would haul the two of them into the station for questioning. Another delay was not what they needed right now.
“She’s not involved with the kid’s disappearance. She’s trying to find him.”
“Then why disappear?”
“She didn’t disappear. She’s been here all this time. She’s a psychic. And from what I can gather, she has a somewhat strained relationship with the kid’s father.”
“And a somewhat strained relationship with the police, too. The kid’s father isn’t the only one convinced that she’s responsible for her husband’s death.”
Husband? Maddie had been married? Jon swore softly. “What was the official reason given for his death?”
“Died in a fire.”
