Before she settled into it, Sonya texted Trey.
News! Cleo and I are hosting An Event, sometime late May/early June. An open house at the manor, to include invites to friends, relatives, local luminaries, politicos, merchants. Looking for help making up the guest list.
Major undertaking. Sure you’re ready for that? Answer must be yes. I can help, but my mother or Seth are more tuned in for this kind of thing. Fair warning, you won’t see many declines or regrets.
We’ve got weeks to plan it out, so we’ll be ready. Cleo’s seeing your mom tomorrow, and will enlist her. We’re both putting in a little extra work time tonight. How about you?
The same. Mookie thinks I’m boring and misses Yoda. I miss you.
Cleo worries we’re boring. And I miss both of you.
If I can break away tomorrow, why don’t I take you both to dinner? We can try the Tavern at the hotel.
I’ll check with Cleo, but I’d say that’s a yes. A definite yes from me if this includes you staying for breakfast.
Pick you up at seven. Don’t have to leave until maybe eight-thirty the next morning, so we’ll share a bagel. Don’t work too late.
Same to you. But it’s been pretty quiet around here, so I’m taking advantage. See you tomorrow.
He signed off with a heart emoji, which had her deciphering the meaning for the next several minutes.
“Oh, stop. What is this, high school?”
Tabling it, she opened her file on the florist.
* * *
In her studio, Cleo stood poised in front of the canvas. She knew now what her mermaid held cupped in her hands. Not a gem, not a shell. She’d hold a clear glass ball. Inside the ball, another mermaid sat on the rock, looking out at sea, a whale sounding, with a glass ball in her hand.
And in that, yet another.
The trick would start with the scale, the tiny details, then the way the light should strike the glass, and the glass within the glass.
She worked to the music of flutes and strings, a soothing sound as she created the main sphere. She wanted the light from the brilliant sunset to glow over the ball, and in turn the light from the inner ball to illuminate the interior.
A hint of gold, a touch of red, a blush of purple.
She mixed paints, worked in small dabs, minute brushstrokes to slowly build that light.
When her fingers cramped, she set down the brush, stepped back. Flexing her fingers, she studied the result.
Good, she thought. Pretty damn good.
Still flexing her fingers, she stepped out to walk down to the bathroom. She’d go back, take another fresh look. Maybe put in a little more time. Her contracted work was right on schedule, so if she spent another hour or so on the painting, she could sleep in a bit in the morning.
Too bad the world wasn’t geared for night owls, she thought as she relieved her bladder.
Humming to herself, she washed her hands, and glanced in the mirror over the sink.
Hester Dobbs stood behind her.
Throwing up her hands in defense, Cleo whirled. Though the air had chilled, no one stood there. One hand over her pounding heart, she pressed her back to the wall.
“I saw you.” Sonya’s sketch had been on the mark with the wild black hair, the fierce dark eyes, the sharp chin, full mouth. “I saw you.”
Maybe her voice shook, just a little, but she squared her shoulders. “And you can fuck right off.”
Water exploded out of the tub faucet. Eyes wide, she watched the hot water knob on the sink turn, and water pour into the bowl. When she tried to turn it off, she had to snatch her fingers away, as the metal burned.
She grabbed a towel to protect her hand, but the knob wouldn’t budge. As steam filled the room, something pounded at the door.
As she looked around frantically for a weapon, she saw something written in the mist of the mirror.
leave or die
In the steam-drenched room, the air turned to ice.
At her desk, Sonya heard nothing as she prepared to shut down for the night. While she saved the evening’s work, Yoda stirred under the desk.
And growled.
Scooting back, she reached for him. “What is it, baby?”
In the hearth, the low, simmering fire rose to a roar. Upstairs, the wall screen erupted with the sound of a woman screaming.
The library’s pocket doors slammed shut; the lights went off.
The light from the fire glowed red and eerie, smearing the shadows, burning against the glass of the windows until the room she loved became a hellscape.
Through the screams and the dog’s wild barks, she heard pounding that had the chandelier swaying like a pendulum.
Third floor, she thought. Cleo.
She ran to the doors, tried to drag them open. She managed an inch before they slammed shut again.
“Come on, come on!”
Straining, she widened the opening. Yoda wiggled through before it slammed shut again.
“No, no! Yoda, wait! Goddamn it, don’t you hurt my dog, you bitch!”
Mustering every ounce of strength, fear, fury, she pulled the door apart enough to squeeze through. Calling for Cleo, she ran for the third floor.
Cleo, Yoda bundled in her arms, sprinted down the hallway.
“I couldn’t get out. I couldn’t get out.” Shaking, Cleo huddled against Sonya as the dog lapped at both their faces. “The bathroom. She was in there with me. I saw her.”
“Dobbs?”
“She was in there, then she wasn’t. But she was. Then she turned all the hot water on, and I couldn’t open the door. And I panicked. I freaked. I completely lost my shit.”
“Did she touch you? Did she hurt you?”
“No, no. God. She left me a message on the mirror. Leave or die. Well, fuck you, Hester! Sorry, Son.” Easing back, Cleo swiped at her eyes. “I just fell apart. I always thought when and if I came face-to-face with anything like this, I’d handle it. I’m so pissed at myself.”
“You did handle it. You have handled it, right from the start. That’s why she went at you so hard.”
“You think? Maybe. Hell. She won this round, but that’s it.”
“She hit the library, too. Roared up the fire, blasted the TV, shut off the lights, and slammed the doors. Then I heard the pounding from up here. Let’s go down. Yoda needs to go out, and we could use some fresh air.”
“I need to clean my brushes. I was going to go back for a while. Scratch that now, but I need to clean up.” After expelling three long breaths, Cleo eased back. “I’m not going to let her chase me out of my studio. No more wins for her.”
“We’ll do that, then take the dog out.” Sonya hugged her again and murmured in Cleo’s ear, “And talk outside.”
With a nod, Cleo led the way back to the studio.
“Oh, Cleo! She’s spectacular!”
“Got a ways to go yet.”
“But she’s so clearly glorious. Oh, the globe. I see what you’re doing. That’s magic.”
“I hope so. And Owen better have a really good place for her, because she’s going to deserve it.”
Once she’d set her studio to rights, they walked down to the bathroom.
“Like nothing happened. But it did.”
“It did,” Sonya agreed, and gripped Cleo’s hand. “And we’re still here.”