"I can't stand it anymore," Eve shouted, as if she'd snapped. "I have to ask. What and who did you see in your vision?"

I sighed. "The back of a man's head, the top of it, though I think his actions mattered more."

She finished her coffee. "So what were his actions?"

"I believe that the woman suspected him of cooking the books, by his reaction to getting caught putting ledgers in a home safe. She practically accused him of it."

"An embezzler? Who caught him? Who is the woman?"

"His wife, I think. Lots of animosity between them. She was going to a fair where, I believe, she had a quilt entered into some type of craft contest. Can we search for award-winning quilts on the internet?"

"A contest like at a country fair? Sure, but I'm not sure we'll find anything from that far back. Do you know what it won? And, hey, I'm no fashion expert but those clothes are here because they're vintage, right? How long ago was this contest?"

I slipped from the cape and remembered how long Dante said the bones had been here. "Try late seventies, early eighties."

Eve scoffed at the outfit. "She wore that to a fair?"

"Fashion snark from the woman in black?"

She chuckled. "You're wearing black."

"Sure. A Mary Quant mini tent dress, black-and-tan Lagerfeld pumps, and a matching two-tone Chanel bag. I have a look. You have a color. Mine is one choice in an unending palette."

Eve wrinkled her nose like a kid. "Mine is my favorite."

n.o.body could make me laugh like Eve.

"The woman could have changed for the fair." Whatever clothes she was wearing likely went the way of the meat on her bones. I shivered. I was making myself nauseous with speculation.

"Okay," Eve said. "I'm ignoring the was, because you think she was killed, right? Never mind. Don't answer. Names to plug into the search?"

"Mr. Hostile and Mrs. Courageous, though I fear her courage was misplaced." I sighed. "What if she's Isobel," I said, "and that's her quilt upstairs?"

Eve crushed her coffee cup and tossed it in the backseat of her top-down convertible. "It's upstairs, if the cops didn't take it as evidence."

"Right," I said, clenching my fists at the thought of not getting another shot at it. "I'm beginning to believe Aunt Fiona. There is a reason I get signs from the universe."

"Two people have died. Sounds like two reasons."

"But none of my visions seem related to a specific murder." Why?

My cell phone rang. "Nick! How's it going? Are you all right? How's Alex?"

"Your brother's fine," he said. "But I checked the Mystick Falls paper on the net this morning. You had quite the night last night."

I wondered if my ears were red after having Werner carry me out of there. "How do you know?"

"Front page, the two fires, the charred body, you trying to rescue Sampson; you staying with your building to protect it."

"Oh, for the love of Gucci. They put that in the paper? I don't suppose they mentioned my near arrest?"

"What?"

"Yeah. Half the story. Don't believe everything you read in the papers. Can you access FBI files from where you are?"

"What's it to you?"

"Missing persons case, probably this area, late seventies, early eighties."

"Who am I looking for?"

"Isobel. Approximately thirty years old." In the event those were Isobel's bones. "No last name."

"Is that a positive on the Isobel?"

I hesitated.

"Madeira? Not another vision?" Most people had one conscience, I had three, my own plus Nick and Eve, the two who annoyed, mocked, and sometimes saved me.

"Please, Nicky," I said in my most seductive tone.

Eve faked a gag.

Nick sighed. "No fair. No phone seductions in the middle of a . . . phone call. And most people don't get to request random FBI searches, you know, so keep this query to yourself, would you?"

"Always."

"You're a pest, but you're my pest. I'll give the search a shot. Let me know if you get a vibe on any other details."

"She was rich," I added, ignoring the warm fuzzies from Nick's claim, likewise my guilt over Werner's early-morning rescue. "An heiress, maybe." One who could make talking to her father sound like a threat.

"A kidnapping?" Nick asked, his computer keys clicking in the background as he took my information. "Might there have been a ransom note?"

"I never thought of that."

"That's why I'm the professional, ladybug. I'll narrow it down to a missing person, possible name Isobel, possible age twenty to thirty, in southeastern Connecticut, that time frame."

I bit my lip. "And see if there are any abandoned wells around here that have been dry for like half a century."

"Hunch or vintage outfit?" Nick asked.

"Both?"

"Ah, ladybug, sometimes you scare me."

"I hope I do more than that to you."

Eve rolled her eyes and started looking through some other boxes.

"Oh, if I could get my hands on you now," Nick threatened.

"What would you do if you could?"

"Don't talk so loud!" Eve yelled, fingers in her ears.

Nick growled. "Use your imagination."

"Can I call you?" I asked.

"About what your imagination comes up with?" He was using his bedroom voice. "Please do."

"Nick. Be serious."

"Call, but I turn off the phone when I don't want to give away my location, so I might not answer."

"Are you and Alex in danger?"

"Gotta go, ladybug."

My phone went dead. "He hung up on me!"

Eve headed back my way. "A missing person?" she asked.

"A hunch based on the well. I didn't tell you, but I've seen it more than once."

"So," she said, thoughtfully. "Not a 'wishing' well. A nightmare well?"

"Deep. Dry. Isolated."

Twenty-one.

I am always returning to one piece of cloth-a rectangle-because it is the elementary form in clothing.

-ISSEY MIYAKE.

A couple of Werner's officers took the new boxes of clothing donations inside and left them in a hea.r.s.e stall. I mean, a designer nook. So I wouldn't have to touch the cape and dress again, I had Eve put them in her backseat before I got in. "I'll try the dress on later and see if I can get anything more on the couple."

Eve looked in her backseat. "You shouldn't do that alone."

"Are you volunteering to be there, or should I ask Aunt Fiona? I do need to talk to her."

With a finger to her chin, Eve pretended she had a dilemma. "Oh, I think Fee should have a turn."

I needed Eve's humor. "Chicken."

"Cluck. Don't we have a car to return? What time does the rental place close?"

"Oy. Let's go. I don't want to pay for another week."

Two seconds before the rental place closed, Eve waited while I turned in my car. "I'm beat," I said, getting into her pa.s.senger seat.

"You've only been up for a few hours."

"I have two night's sleep to make up for. Take me back to the shop to see if the cops are gone."

She turned her car in that direction. "Do you know what kind of car you want?" she asked.

There was only one car dealership in Mystick Falls, and I liked to support the locals. "Tomorrow, after school, you can drive me to Goodwin's. I want an Element."

"You just returned an Element."

"I know and I loved it."

"It's a big rectangle."

"Basic structure. I've heard it called an Amish buggy and a four-slice toaster. I don't care what anybody else thinks. The design is brilliant and I love the way it drives. Easy on gas, big enough to haul clothes, backseats that disappear to make like a truck bed. I'm in business. It's perfect. I need one. I want one."

"Do me a favor," Eve said. "Tomorrow, when we get to Goodwin's, pretend you're not jonesing, so you don't pay too much. And be prepared to follow my lead and walk."

"You like playing the money game, don't you? You're such a Connecticut Yankee."

She buffed her nails on her vest then pretended to admire their black sheen. "I have been known to make car salesmen cry."

I chuckled. "Fine. I choose; you negotiate, genius."

"I am a genius. I wrote you a sweet computer program to run the shop. Keeps track of stock, designers, vintage year, provenance, flaws, every thingamabobbin you can imagine. I designed a bookkeeping module that works with it: quarterly tax reports, the works. Bodacious program, if I do say so myself. It'll work with a tax program, too, so I can file your quarterlies and such."

"Eve, that's such an enormous gift."

"You're worth it. Are you all right?"

I rubbed my temple. "I'm not sure." I grabbed the cape and dress off her backseat and set them in my lap.

Eve did a double take. "Oh, please don't do that in my car."

"Why? I don't pee my pants when I have a vision."

"No, I do!"

n.o.body could match my skewed sense of humor as well as Eve. Except maybe Nick, in bed.

When we drove by my shop, the crime scene tape was gone. "Yay. Pull in so I can run up and see what they took. Don't even stop the engine. I'll be back in two minutes."