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Douglas was being kind. I would’ve called Sir Alastair something much worse.

Douglas said, and I thought he sounded a little sad that the case might soon be concluded, “So all that remains is to return Lady Justina to the loch.”

“There’s a problem.” I stood up and began to pace the room. “This is so frustrating. Her skin was in the attic at Maitland House. Casper and I found it the night we stayed there. I had it in my hands but I didn’t realize what it was. Now it’s gone. Sir Alastair has moved it.”

Douglas swore. “What do we do now?”

“Find it.”

He looked at me as though I was crazy.

I said, “Yeah I know. It could be anywhere.”

“Like searching for a needle in a haystack,” said Douglas miserably.

“Then we’d better get going.”

He shook his head.

“What?” I asked.

“I’m sorry, Allegra, I can’t help you,” he said. “Not today. Bess has gone to town. I have to open Mac’s.”

“Stuff Mac’s,” I said. “Lady Justina is more important.”

“Allegra, if there was the slightest chance of finding the skin I’d help you, but…” He trailed off.

“You’re right,” I said grudgingly. “Besides, I’m the paranormal investigator. It’s my job to find her skin.”

“Where will you start?”

“At the loch.”

Leaving Douglas to open Mac’s, I headed out of the kitchen and down to the shore. I was almost certain Sir Alastair wouldn’t have hidden the skin down there but I was pretty sure the crisp breeze from the loch would help me think.

Where would Sir Alastair hide the skin?

The obvious place was somewhere on his estate. Inside Maitland House? Probably not. I had a feeling he would want to move the skin well away from there. On the other hand, he might have realized that’s what I would think and done the opposite. Maybe he’d hidden the skin in his bedroom. Or maybe not. It might be buried in the wood in a locked chest. Or it might be—well, anywhere really.

I sighed. It was impossible to guess where he’d hidden it, and he must have known that. I imagined him sitting in Maitland House congratulating himself on getting the better of me.

Think again, Sir Alastair. I’ve got a trick or two up my sleeve—or should I say, in my sock.

I remembered how my toe had itched the first time I was in the attic. Then, I had assumed the presence of a ghost, but now I knew the itch had been in response to Lady Justina’s skin. I was betting that the next time I was near the skin my toe would itch again. But I knew I would to have to do a lot of walking before that happened. It was going to be a long day. The sooner I got started the more ground I would cover.

First I went to the wood. I half expected to see Lady Justina in the clearing but she wasn’t there. I walked around the perimeter, concentrating on my toe. Nothing. Not even a tingle. I went further into the wood, moving carefully, keeping a look out for Wilson’s Creag.

“Good morning.” The voice was behind me but I knew immediately who it was.

“Hi Casper.” I turned to face him.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

I filled him in on the case. When I was done, I asked him, “Do you know where her skin is?”

“No.”

“Even if you knew, you couldn’t tell me, right?”

“Right.”

“Couldn’t you give me a hint? Just a little one?”

“Allegra, I really don’t know where it is. No matter what you might assume, I’m not omniscient.”

I sat down on a log and rested my chin in my hands. “If you had to guess where a man like Sir Alastair had hidden the skin…”

“He’s going to hide it in a place where he expects no one to look. But I’m sure you’ve already thought of that.”

I had, but Casper seemed to be in a giving mood. It wouldn’t hurt to press for more information. “Where would he expect no one to look?”

“Beats me,” said Casper, using one of the first expressions I’d taught him. I think I’d been about seven years old at the time. I sighed nostalgically. Life had been so uncomplicated then. No wait—that was the year Dad had been out of work and I’d been ostracized at school for not having the latest Barbie. Maybe adult life wasn’t so tough.

Apparently Casper felt nostalgic too. “I remember,” he said, “the