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know that he fully abides by our previous agreements."
    Now Max understood. Modesto was here to smooth over any bad feelings Max had over the Gold incident. Hull feared Max would be angry and release the old journal he had copies of, the journal of the Hull family that documented centuries of corruption, manipulation, and witchcraft. This was all about protecting themselves.
    "Don't worry," Max said like a benevolent king. "I won't harm you over this. Just see that it doesn't happen again."
    "You have my word," Modesto said through gritted teeth.
    "Then I think we're done." Max stood.
    "One more item."
    Max thrust an exasperated glare at Modesto, but the man's stern face reminded Max just how dangerous he could be. "What is it?"
    "I must deliver this," Modesto said, handing over an ivory-colored envelope. "I've been instructed to tell you that the letter is not to be opened until you are in the presence of your wife and Mr. Drummond." Coming from anyone else, Max would have been shocked by this statement. But since it was a Hull who had cursed Drummond, who had bound his ghost to Max's office, and who had fought to stop Max from releasing him, Modesto's words were natural.
    Max grabbed the envelope and pocketed it without ever taking his eyes off of Modesto. Perhaps it was the mentioning of Sandra and Drummond. Perhaps it was Modesto's incessant air of superiority — even when attempting to apologize for nearly killing a man. Perhaps it was simply the fear of dealing in any way with the Hull family once more. Whatever the case, Max's head spun in fury while his stomach threatened to revolt. His emotions churned with conflict as much as his body, and through taut lips, he said, "I don't ever want to see you again."
    Modesto rose to his full height and looked down upon Max. "I appreciate your displeasure in having to meet. Rest assured the sentiment is mutual. However, as I am the top representative for Mr. Hull, I can assure you, we will be in contact again. No matter what you threaten, Mr. Hull will not entrust these delicate matters to another person. As you've seen with Mr. Gold, most others cannot be counted upon to execute instructions properly. I hope you understand the nature of this refusal and will not use it against Mr. Hull."
    Modesto bent slightly and walked away. Fuming and helpless, Max watched him go. He pulled out the envelope, flipped it over, and set his finger at the edge to tear it open.
    But he stopped.
    Printed on the back were the words: NOT TO BE OPENED UNTIL IN THE PRESENCE OF MRS. PORTER AND MR. DRUMMOND. As much as Max wanted to raise a middle finger to Hull's instructions, he knew that doing so would be a bad move at this point. The time to fight back was when he held the most advantage. Besides, whatever this was all about, it was important enough to risk public exposure.
    He put the envelope away, gathered his things, and headed back to the office. When he arrived, Sandra took one look, sat him down, and said, "Guess it didn't go well."
    Max explained about Modesto's visit and placed the envelope on the table. Drummond shrugged. "At least the bastards haven't forgotten me. I ought to go haunt them for a few years. Just clank around their mansion, make sure nobody gets a decent night's sleep."
    "I'll buy you a new set of chains," Max said.
    Drummond chuckled. "I think the old, rusty ones have a better tone, but thanks for the offer."
    "So," Sandra said, "are you going to open it?"
    Max slid the envelope toward her. "You do it." She pulled back from the desk, her eyes narrowing on the envelope as if it might rear back and attempt to bite her.
    "They want you to open it, though."
    "Yes, but the instructions don't say anything specifically about who opens it. So, screw them. They forgot to be that clear, I say the heck with it."
    "Okay," she said, snatched the envelope and tore it open. She read in silence, her face giving away nothing as to its contents.
    "Hey, Sweets," Drummond said, "you going to