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Griffin Investigations was located on the second floor of a Colonial-era building in the Dark Zone, not far from the Dead City Wall. Leona and the others, including the dust bunnies, crowded into Charlotte’s office.

The escape from the wedding salon had not been without incident. Somehow Roxy had acquired a souvenir. Charlotte had told the sales consultant to put the sparkly blue fascinator decorated with fluttering blue ribbons and a blue crystal butterfly on the bill. It had been evident that Roxy was not about to relinquish it.

Eugenie brought in a pot of strong coffee and poured it for the humans. She opened a couple of cans of Hot Quartz Cola for Roxy and Newton and then angled herself on the corner of Charlotte’s desk. She took out her phone.

“Here’s what I’ve got so far,” she said. “Overall, the Rancourt family appears to be respectable and financially secure, but they have always kept a low profile.”

Family was everything on Harmony, thanks to the First Generation colonists. After the closing of the Curtain, they had faced the knowledge that they had been cut off from the home world, possibly forever. With their high-tech machines crumbling around them, they had set out to establish the foundation of a society that would be able to hold itself together through the hard times they knew were coming. The experts—philosophers, scientists, psychiatrists, and religious leaders—had made the decision to shore up the family unit as the basic building block of the culture. They had reinforced the structure with every means at their disposal—the Constitution and the law as well as powerful social norms. The Covenant Marriage was the cornerstone. It was almost as indestructible as green quartz. Almost.

For those who were not ready to take the big step with a CM, there existed the far more casual Marriage of Convenience. Considered tacky and tawdry by many, the MC was little more than fancy packaging for an affair. Dissolving an MC required nothing more than filing the paperwork at the nearest courthouse. But a Covenant Marriage was supposed to be for life.

The results of the work of the First Generation were indisputable. The colonies had been pushed to the brink but they had stuck together and survived the tough challenges they had faced.

Now, after two hundred years, the descendants of the First Generation were thriving, but a lot of the old laws were still on the books and some of the rigid social and cultural attitudes continued to hold sway. A Covenant Marriage divorce was not only difficult to obtain—there were few legal grounds—it was hideously expensive.

But the real threat was the humiliation, scandal, and, not infrequently, financial disaster that inevitably ensued. Careers, friendships, and social connections were destroyed. So were the prospects for a second Covenant Marriage.

As insurance against the disaster of an unhappy CM, most people relied on matchmaking agencies—families insisted on it. But no system was perfect. In the end, two people who decided they simply could not live together generally opted to stay married but lead separate lives. The other option for getting out of a marriage while avoiding the legal, financial, and social perils was, of course, the convenient death of one of the two people involved. When a spouse died under suspicious circumstances, it was axiomatic that the first suspect was the surviving spouse.

“What else have you got on Rancourt?” Molly asked.

“Not that it’s germane to the immediate problem,” Eugenie said, “but he is not currently registered with a matchmaking agency.”

Out of nowhere, Leona got a little ping of excitement. “Really? That’s interesting.”

Charlotte pinned her with a severe look. “Why?”

Leona waved one hand in a vague way. “Just another data point.” She looked at Eugenie. “Go on.”

“Evidently the Rancourt family’s association with the Foundation for the Study of Atypical Phenomena dates back to the Old World. Here on Harmony the organization has a reputation for cutting-edge paranormal R and D. It takes mostly government contracts and much of its work is highly classified.” Eugenie scrolled rapidly. “The Rancourt Museum is legit but it is not open to the public. Its primary objective is to support the research of the Foundation. Security is very tight.”

“I’d really like to take a look at that collection,” Leona said.

Eugenie lowered her phone and fixed her with a mom stare. “Speaking of interesting data points, I told you that Rancourt was not registered with a matchmaking agency. That much was true. What I didn’t know until I talked to one of my contacts was that Oliver Rancourt was married in a Covenant Marriage ceremony.”

Leona felt as if she had fallen into a very deep well. “I see.” Then she rallied. “He was married? Widowed?”

Molly asked the question that had to be asked. “Divorced?”

“Neither,” Eugenie said.

“Then, what—?” Leona asked.

“The marriage was annulled,” Eugenie said quietly.

They all took a beat to absorb that news. Annulments happened but they were extremely rare.

“What were the grounds?” Charlotte asked.

“Unknown,” Eugenie said. “The records were sealed by the court. That’s standard practice because, legally speaking, the marriage was declared null and void. Technically, it never existed.”

“Except, of course, it did,” Molly pointed out.

Charlotte pursed her lips. “Annulments are difficult to get. There are very few grounds. Bigamy, age-of-consent issues, fraud, or failure to declare a complete para-psych profile.”

Leona remembered Oliver’s powerful energy field and the way he had slipped through the crowd as if he were invisible. “Probably the last one in Rancourt’s case—failure to declare a complete para-psych profile. I got the impression he is a very high-grade talent.”

Eugenie raised her brows. “There is one more reason for an annulment—failure to consummate the marriage.”

Leona choked on the coffee she had just swallowed. Did not even think of that possibility .

She lowered the mug and considered the unmistakably sexual vibe she had picked up during her time with Oliver. She had been aware of a low, smoldering heat in the atmosphere between them that had thrilled her senses.

“Anything is possible, I suppose,” she said. “But I doubt that failure to consummate the marriage was grounds for the annulment in Rancourt’s case.”

She did not realize she had sounded far too sure of herself until it dawned on her that the others were watching her with very intent expressions.

“Just idle speculation,” she said quickly.

“Right,” Charlotte said. “Idle speculation.”

Molly smiled a superior, knowing smile, the sort of smile only a sister can pull off effectively. “It occurs to me that neither rule number one nor rule number two of the free spirit sisterhood was designed to cover annulments. We never even contemplated that option when we made the rules.”

Leona was annoyed by the flush she knew was heating her face. She and Molly had established the rules for dating shortly after they had accepted the fact that they would probably never marry. Their status as orphans combined with the mystery of their births were serious impediments, but the real issue was their para-psych profiles. It was obvious that no matchmaking agency would take them on as clients, not if they were honest on the registration questionnaires.

The moms had pressured both of them to register with an agency and to lie when it came to questions about their profiles. Everyone lies on those damned questionnaires, Eugenie had assured them. There’s plenty of time to discuss that side of things in private with the person they select for you. Or not. Everyone is entitled to their secrets.

The moms meant well, Leona thought. But early on, she and Molly had decided they would not marry unless they found potential spouses who could deal with the mysteries of their birth and their profiles. They knew the odds were stacked against them, so they had determined to live by their own rules.

Rule number one: Never date a married person or one who is registered with an agency.

Rule number two: No sleepovers. They were too risky. They had the power to turn a simple dating relationship into something more; the power to make a woman dream. A free spirit had to maintain some emotional distance for the sake of protecting her heart.

Leona retreated into her logical, academic place. “The rules do not apply to this situation. I am not contemplating an affair with Oliver Rancourt. In case you weren’t paying attention, I’m pursuing a viable lead on the yellow crystals.”

Molly’s smile got a little more superior, a little more knowing. “Right. That certainly clarifies things. But promise me that when you find out for sure whether or not failure to consummate the marriage was the grounds for the annulment, you’ll let me know.”

Leona glared at her and then decided to rise above the taunt. “I think it’s far more likely that the grounds were his para-psych profile. Whatever he is, he’s strong.” She made a show of checking her watch and got to her feet. “I should leave. I’m supposed to meet Rancourt early this afternoon. Before I go, is there anything new on the fallout from the FBPI raid?”

Eugenie glanced at her phone and shook her head. “Nope. Still no mention of the expert from Hollister University who was supposed to authenticate the membership submissions.”

“What about the dead woman?”

“They have a name,” Eugenie said. “Astrid Todd. She was new in town. Living at a low-rent motel in the Shadow Zone.”

“What about the Vance cult pendant she was wearing?”

Eugenie shook her head. “No mention of it.”

“The Bureau is probably keeping that piece of evidence out of the media,” Charlotte said, “because it’s something only the killer would know. That’s common practice in a murder investigation.”

“One more thing,” Eugenie said. “I think I can guess what sort of talent Rancourt is.”

She gave them her theory. There was a moment of silence.

Charlotte picked up a pen and tapped it lightly against the desktop. “That probably explains the annulment.”