The Mirror (The Lost Bride Trilogy #2)

Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

When Sonya thought of the Gold Room, she thought of blood on a white wedding dress, of a woman crying out as she froze to death in a snowstorm, or another desperately birthing her twins before her body gave out.

She thought of murder and madness.

As if he read those thoughts, Trey took her hand. “It’ll be fine.”

He spoke so matter-of-factly as they climbed the stairs, she almost believed him.

But.

“As Han Solo and others have said, I have a bad feeling about this.”

“You have to believe the Force is with us,” he countered. “It’s always with the good guys.”

Behind him, Owen mimicked Darth Vader breathing, and got a punch on the arm from Cleo.

“Hey, I’d take Vader over Dobbs anytime.” Owen glanced back as they started past the library. “Hold on a minute.” And walked in to study Sonya’s mood board.

“That’s the Ryder thing? Got your multigenerational representation,” he said. “Smooth. Smart. You know what you’re doing.”

“Most of the time.”

“You know what you’re doing,” he repeated, and this time got one of Cleo’s smiles.

Two men, two women, three dogs, and a cat started up to the third floor.

From the Gold Room came a slow, steady thud, a heartbeat, dull and thick.

When they reached the landing, a red glow outlined the door.

“I guess she doesn’t like everyone coming up at once. Well.” Sonya got a good grip on Trey’s hand. “We’ve come this far.”

The sound increased in speed and volume as they walked down the long hall where the sunlight through Cleo’s studio windows pierced the shadows.

The animals reacted, Mookie with a low growl, Yoda with a snarl, Jones with a trio of throaty barks.

When the cat hissed, Cleo picked her up.

“Getting colder.” Trey glanced at Cleo. “Does that happen when you come up to work?”

“Not so far. If she tries it, well, I’ve got plenty of sweaters.”

At Cleo’s studio, Trey stopped, and with Sonya’s hand still in his, stepped in to study the painting.

“That’s a major wow. A major magic wow. Owen, I’d say you’re going to need a better boat, but I’ve seen the design. Fair trade.

“Why don’t we check the closet?”

Sonya crossed over to it, opened it. And saw only Cleo’s currently well-organized supplies.

“It should be Agatha next. But not tonight.” Sonya closed the door again.

“It’s warmer in here than it is in the hall,” Trey observed. “And not just because you’ve got sun coming in.”

“I have a few little things in here to block her, or muffle her anyway.”

“What, like crystals and incense?”

Cleo gave Owen a cool stare. “If you believe in ghosts, like the one making all that racket, why not the rest?”

“Okay, your point.”

From the Gold Room, the noise increased with the sound of windows slamming open, crashing closed.

“I’d say her cage is rattled,” Trey remarked, and stepped back into the hallway.

The glow around the door burned fiery red now as the door itself bowed out, bowed in, as if breathing.

Beside him Owen hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “I hate to give her credit, but that’s pretty cool.”

In obvious disagreement, Jones bulleted down the hall to bark wildly at the heaving door.

“Come on, man.”

As Owen started down to his dog, Sonya called out, “Don’t touch the door. She’s at peak.”

“We won’t. Stay.” Trey pointed at Mookie before he jogged down after Owen.

“Okay, you’re the big dog. Let’s just—” But when Owen leaned down to haul Jones up, the door slammed open.

And the dog rushed in.

“Oh, hell no.” Without hesitation, Owen pushed in after.

Trey glanced back at Sonya. “I have to,” he said before he leaped in. And the door slammed shut.

“Shit! Shit. Hold her.” Cleo shoved the hissing cat at Sonya. “I have something that might help.”

When Cleo ran back to the studio, Sonya stood with two growling dogs and an angry cat.

“Fuck it. Just fuck it.” She fed on fear and misery, Sonya remembered. So she wouldn’t give Dobbs either. She strode forward, and her phone played Santana’s “Evil Ways.”

“Yeah, she’s got them. She’s also got my goddamn boyfriend, my cousin, and a dog in there.”

“Wait!” Cleo ran down the hall with a smoking stick of white sage.

“Really, Cleo? Against this?”

“My grand-mère made it herself. Don’t dismiss it. Believing’s half of it. Jesus, Sonya!”

The door beat, and a cold wind seeped around its edges to lash through the hallway. What beat and crashed behind it sounded like a war.

“What the hell’s happening in there?”

“We have to stay calm.” As her hair blew back, Sonya set the cat down, took Cleo’s free hand. “It’s the opposite of what she wants from us. Calm.”

“Working on it.” She began to circle the smoking sage at the door. “Ah, here is light against the dark. Peace against violence. Love against hate.”

Inside the room, the wind rose to a gale. Smoke billowed up to fly like birds out of the windows.

The bed rose six feet off the floor, then dropped like a stone. Under it, the floor cracked in jagged black lines.

And the walls bled.

“Do you see her?” Owen snapped it out while his breath expelled in white vapor.

“For a second. Not now.”

“I see her.”

She stood, a foot off the floor, arms outstretched. Her long black dress whirled around her, and her hair streamed like black smoke.

Her dark eyes fixed on Owen, gleaming with glee and madness, while Jones, teeth bared, barked below her.

“A Poole.” Her voice came silkily through the wind. “You’ve the look of him, rougher, but the look of him who pumped his lust into me one night, then cast me aside for a biddable little whore. Be damned to him, to you, to all Pooles. I rule here.”

“All this over a one-night stand? Bullshit, pathetic bullshit. Go haunt hell.”

Though Trey didn’t see Dobbs, when Owen charged forward, he moved with him. Then Owen’s head snapped back, and Trey grabbed his arm to keep him upright.

As Owen swiped at the blood streaming from his nose, as the dog leaped, snarling, he saw her hands curl like claws and braced himself for another blow.

A drop of his blood fell on the floor. White smoke trickled under the doorway.

Rather than strike, Dobbs screamed. Rather than strike, she whirled like her hair, like her dress. And vanished.

The room was just a room.

“What the fucking fuck?” Trey demanded.

“She clocked me, and I tell you she was going to do it again. Then poof. Goddamn it. Jones, you asshole.” But he said it with pride as Jones strutted toward him.

“He’s got something.” Trey crouched down, and after a short tug, took the scrap of black fabric from Jones. “Son of a bitch.” He looked up at Owen. “This has to be from her dress. He tore off a piece of her dress.”

“Good man, Jones. You fucking maniac.”

“Let’s get the hell out of here. The women are either going to be pissed or frantic. Probably both.”

“Yeah, well, what was I supposed to do? Nobody messes with Jones.”

Trey opened the door.

Sonya and Cleo stood, hands clasped, with a smoking cone in Cleo’s other hand. The two dogs and the cat sat calmly enough. Then Mookie rushed him, wagging and whining.

“Fine. We’re all fine. Sorry, but—”

“You didn’t have a choice,” Sonya finished, and glanced at Owen. “Neither of you. I’d have done the same if it had been Yoda, Cleo.”

She held herself back from embracing Trey in desperate relief. “Owen’s bleeding.”

“Sucker punch.” He shrugged. “Not my first or last bloody nose.”

“Bathroom there. Go clean it up,” Cleo said. “Do you need help with that?”

“No, I got it.”

“I need to go check dinner.”

“How long were we in there?”

“Forever.” Now Sonya did put her arms around Trey. “But really probably not five minutes. Let’s all go and talk downstairs.”

But she walked to the bathroom door first. “If you go in there again, I’ll punch you myself.”

“Well, that’s terrifying.” Leaning over the sink, Owen pinched his nose. “She’s done for now. Me, too. I want another beer.”

Satisfied, Sonya joined the others. All but Jones, who sat at Owen’s feet at the sink, headed down.

“We’ll wait for him to talk it through. I caught a glimpse of her in there, but he got more. And I think they had what passes for a conversation.”

Cleo stopped in her studio to tap out the smudge stick.

“What is that?”

“White sage,” she told him. “From my grand-mère.”

“Works against negativity,” Sonya added.

“Okay. It was definitely negative in there. I broke my word to you.”

“I meant it when I said I’d have done the same. You said you had to, and you did. Plus, you didn’t really break your word. You didn’t open the door. Except from the inside to come out, and that’s different.”

Sonya added, “I want a really big glass of wine.”

They moved straight to the kitchen, where Cleo lifted the lid and stirred.

“I’m going to feed the dogs, and the cat. Got cat food?” Trey asked Cleo.

“Of course. And only the best for Pye.”

She replaced the lid, got out a can while Trey filled dog bowls, and Sonya got out two beers before topping off the wine.

When Owen came in with Jones, Jones went straight to the food, and Owen to the beer.

Trey studied him. “Might have a shiner tomorrow.”

“I don’t think so. I’m not going to say she hit like a girl considering present company, but it didn’t have the punch she gave you that time.”

“We’re going to sit. Cleo, can that just keep doing what it’s doing so you can sit?” Sonya took her wine to the table. “We need to hear it all.”

“I can start by telling you it was a lot like the first time I went in there. Cold, wind, bed floating up and crashing, walls bleeding. Some smoke this time, and pouring out the windows. I caught a glimpse of her, like before. Owen got more than a glimpse.”

“Jones, too. He saw her. She’s a looker if you go for that type. I’d say sultry, but it’s more edgy. Plus, she’s crazy as fuck, and it shows. She was standing about a foot over the floor.”

He began to recap the rest.

“One night?” Sonya repeated. “Not an actual affair, but one night?”

“That’s how she put it, and went on about how she rules this house.”

“That’s where your ‘bullshit’ comment came from,” Trey assumed.

“It is bullshit, and she pissed me off. My family—ours,” he corrected, “built this place. It’s not hers, and it’s never going to be.”

“You went at her.”

With a shrug, Owen lifted his beer to Trey. “Well, I was pissed off. Plus, you went at her with me. Then bam, she took her shot. She was winding up for another, but… Something changed. Like that.”

He snapped his fingers.

“She spun like a, well, a top, and screamed, then gone.”

“Everything stopped,” Trey added. “Maybe she ran out of juice.”

“Maybe the smudging helped.” Cleo rose again when her phone alarm sounded, and this time got the shrimp out of the refrigerator. “I could see it trickling in under the door. The pissed off—and I’m not blaming you—feeds her, I think. Like fear, pain, sorrow.”

“It does. And Cleo and I stayed calm. She hates that.”

“I stayed calm after you ordered me to.” After adding the shrimp, she turned. “Blood.”

“Again?” Owen reached for his nose.

“No, not now, then. I bet some of it hit the floor. So theory.” She came back, sat, picked up her wine. “Smudge stick made by a good witch, calm, and blood. Blood’s life, it’s power.”

“And it was Poole blood,” Sonya added.

“You think that combination shut her down?” Sipping his beer, Trey considered. “Maybe. Interesting, and it makes as much sense as anything.”

“Add one more. Jones got a piece of her.”

Sonya widened her eyes. “He bit her?”

“I don’t think he managed that. But he gave it a shot.”

“He got this.” Trey took the scrap of black fabric from his pocket.

“Is that—it’s from her dress?” When he set it on the table, Sonya hesitated, then brushed her fingers over it. “How can it be real, be solid? What am I saying? How can Molly make the beds, clean the house? How can Jack play ball with Yoda, and all the rest?”

“He ripped her dress.” With no hesitation, Cleo picked up the scrap. “Good boy, Jones.”

“He prefers man .”

“Naturally. Maybe we can use this. I’m going to ask my grand-mère.”

“You need to keep it somewhere secure. I don’t think we should keep it in the house, at least for now.”

“I’ll take it.” Owen held out his hand. “It’s Jones’s trophy anyway. I’ll bring it back if you find out you can use it, but this way it’s at my place.”

He looked toward the stove. “Isn’t that done yet?”

Cleo held up five fingers, and went back to stir.

“We’ll set the table.” Sonya rose.

“I’ll let the dogs—sorry, dogs and cat out. How did you keep them calm?” Trey wondered.

“I honestly don’t know.” Sonya got out plates then handed them to Owen. “It seemed like they settled down when we got calm, and Cleo started with the smudging. What’s this?”

Sonya noticed the dish on the counter, and lifted the dishcloth that covered it. “Cake?”

“Corn bread. Grand-mère again. She said if I was doing her jambalaya, I had to make her corn bread to make it right. I sampled some, and think I pulled it off.”

“We could all have used a sample.”

“You can have more than a sample in just a minute, Owen, because this looks ready to me.”

When they dished it up, Owen dived right in. “Got a real nice kick to it.”

“Chef’s kiss,” Trey agreed.

“It’s wonderful, Cleo. When I think how you buried this talent.”

“Didn’t bury it, Son; didn’t know I had it to bury. It’s like a fun hobby now. I never had a hobby.”

“Shopping.”

Cleo shook her head. “Shopping’s a calling, even a mission.”

Clover came out with some honky-tonk-type piano, then a rough, ready voice.

“Dr. John?” Owen grabbed some corn bread. “‘Mama Roux.’ Oh yeah, Clover’s the girl of my dreams.”

“You know Dr. John? That’s Creole music. Grand-mère’s a major fan.”

“Then she’s got damn good taste,” Owen said.

“It’s spooky.”

“Meant to be, Son.”

“Well, here’s to the chef, and her grand-mère.”

The rest raised their glasses with Trey.

Since Cleo had cooked, Sonya split leftovers into three tubs. “Anyone up for a movie? Down in the movie room.”

“What kind of movie?”

Recognizing Owen’s caution, Sonya smiled. “Don’t worry, Cleo and I save our rom-coms and weepers for girls’ night. Only thing off the table are horror flicks, which pains me, as I love them. But after the last couple of days, I’m not waving a red flag.”

“The last Indiana Jones is a good one.”

“You’ve already seen it?” Sonya asked.

“Yeah, but if a film’s only worth watching once, it’s probably not much worth the first time.”

“Sounds like popcorn for dessert. Coffee, beer, Coke?” Cleo asked.

“Coke, thanks.”

“I’m with Trey on that,” Owen said.

“Popcorn, Cokes, and Indy.” Sonya nodded. “Sounds really good, and a little like giving somebody who deserves it a return punch in the face.”

They settled into the cushy seats with the dogs piled up on the floor for naps. Pye sprawled over the back of a seat to take hers.

When the movie ended, Sonya actually clapped. “The end of an era done really well. And such a good way to close out this strange and ultimately excellent day.”

“I’ve got an even better way,” Trey murmured in her ear.

“I sincerely hope so. And she didn’t make a peep.”

They trooped back upstairs to let the animals out for a last round, to deal with movie dishes.

Once more, all together, they walked upstairs. This time stopping on the second floor.

“See you in the morning. Either at three a.m. or,” Sonya added, “hopefully later.”

She waited until she and Trey reached her bedroom before turning to him. “So, what’s this even better way?” Then laughed when he scooped her up.

Sonya slept through the three o’clock hour, and all it brought. Trey saw her, Dobbs, as he’d expected to.

He hadn’t expected to see Owen, Jones beside him, standing on the lawn. Easing the doors open, Trey stepped out on the balcony.

“For fuck’s sake, Owen.”

“Wanted a closer look,” Owen called up, and watched as Dobbs jumped off the wall. “And to test a theory.”

“I’m coming down.”

“Yeah, meet you inside.”

While Sonya slept on, Trey pulled on pants. He went quietly out and down the stairs where Owen stood at a window in the front parlor.

“Looking for another bloody nose, or worse?”

“She didn’t see me. I wondered about that, so I set my phone for quarter to three.”

With a shake of his head, he grinned. “And son of a bitch if Clover didn’t come on with Sinatra’s version of that old song. Anyway. I went outside.”

He turned to Trey. “We’re heading toward a half moon, and you can smell spring. Air’s still got a bite at this hour, but you can smell it.

“I left the front door open, so I heard the clock, heard the piano start. Straight ‘Barbara Allen’ tonight. Then it changed out there.”

He stepped to the window, looked out at the seawall.

“Full moon, and I’d say late summer from the feel of it. There she was, Trey. Just poof, there she was. The way Sonya and Cleo said they saw her.”

“Facing the house.”

“Like that. But she didn’t see me. I’m standing right there, and Jones is growling. We saw her, but she didn’t see us. She turned around, and I heard her say her blood sealed the spell. You called down.”

“She didn’t hear me,” Trey realized. “Didn’t see you, didn’t see me. She’s not as strong out of the house, and this is like a loop.”

“Yeah, that’s how I see it. I’m guessing she geared up the night she blew the doors open up there, but she didn’t try that tonight. Just jumped. Then everything changed back.”

Aligning the steps, the known, Trey paced, and factored the not-quite-known in with them.

“And we’re thinking she’s taken that leap every night at three a.m. since, what, 1806.”

“My money’s on it.”

“I hope it hurts, every time. You decide to do this again, come get me first.”

“She didn’t even know I was there. I wondered, because Poole.”

“She didn’t know you were there because you weren’t there. Not when she jumped, and it’s a loop. Same time, same night, same moon.”

“Huh. I didn’t figure that one. Sounds right.”

“The house was here, not exactly the way it is now, but here. And even when she jumps, she’s in it.”

At sea, Owen dragged a hand through his hair. “Now you’re losing me.”

“It’s a loop, Owen, like a replay. But what she is, is in the house. So she can still bang and pound and blow, whatever, even as what’s out there takes the dive.”

“That’s crazy.” For a beat, Owen considered it. “And yet somehow sounds right.”

“It’s done for tonight. I’d say it’s all done for tonight. Let’s get some sleep.”

“I’m for that.”

In the morning, Sonya beat Trey downstairs, and found Owen filling a go-cup with coffee.

“Hey, listen,” he began. “I let the dogs out, and the cat came down right behind them, went to the door, so she’s out, too. I took one of the Toaster Strudels—it was a full box. And I’m taking this go-cup. I’ll bring it back.”

“Okay. I was going to scramble some eggs if you want some.”

“Now she tells me. I’ve gotta go.”

“Don’t forget the jambalaya. And, Owen”—she got out a mug for her own coffee—“you can leave some of your things here in your room, or whatever room you want. Anytime you want to stay, you stay.”

“Thanks.” He glanced over as Trey came in. “I’m heading out, and you’re getting scrambled eggs. You can fill her in on last night.”

After grabbing his share of leftovers, he started out the back for Jones. “Later.”

“Last night?”

“Scrambled eggs?”

“Trey.”

He held up a hand. “Just let me get coffee, okay? You slept through it, probably because it wasn’t anything much. Three a.m., the usual. I got up just to see if Dobbs took her dive. She was on the wall, like before.”

He took his first hit of coffee.

“And?”

“And Owen was outside.”

“He—he went out there?”

“Set his alarm for before three, got up, went out. And no, I didn’t know he planned to, but I’m going to say it was a good idea.”

“Of course you are. You would—” She broke off, narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t tell me you went out there, too.”

“I went out on the balcony to call down to him. Are you really making eggs, because now I want them. I can do it if you’re too irritated.”

“Irritated.” She got out a frying pan. “Why should I be irritated because the two of you pull this after Owen ended up bleeding?”

“First, let me point out, I didn’t pull anything.”

“But you’re okay that he did?”

“I am. And you might not be as irritated if you hear the rest of it. Would you like to?”

Reasonable, always reasonable Oliver Doyle III could make her crazy.

She tossed a pat of butter in the heating skillet, then broke eggs in a bowl.

“I’ll take your silence as assent,” he decided, and told her the rest.

“You should’ve woken me up.”

“Why? She’d jumped before I went down to talk to Owen. And you’re letting your annoyance block off the point.”

“What point?” She poured the eggs into the pan.

“She didn’t see us.” Trey dropped two slices of bread in the toaster. “She didn’t see us, didn’t hear us.”

“Let me repeat. And?”

“I think you need more coffee.” Helpfully, he topped off her mug. “I’ll feed the dogs, and oh yeah, cat. She didn’t know we were there, Sonya. Because we weren’t.”

“Excuse me?”

“We weren’t there when she jumped because she jumped a couple hundred years ago.”

Knowns and unknowns, the logic, to his mind, was solid.

“I think what this is, is a kind of loop. A time warp, or slip. You saw her facing the house, and so did Owen. But by the time I looked out, both times, she was facing away.”

“And she blasted the doors open,” Sonya reminded him.

“Because she’s in the house.”

On a frustrated breath, Sonya pushed at the eggs with a spatula. “She was on the seawall. You just said so.”

“She was out on that wall in 1806. Owen’s got that scrap of her dress in his pocket,” he added as he opened the door.

Two dogs and a cat ran inside and immediately pounced on their food bowls.

“It hit me this morning, I don’t think her dress had a tear in it. And it wouldn’t have, because what happened in the Gold Room yesterday hadn’t happened in 1806.”

She yanked out plates. “I don’t see why…” Then set them down slowly.

“Coffee’s kicking in.” Taking the spatula from her, he divided the eggs himself.

“You’re saying Dobbs jumping off the wall is like, like a tape set on repeat, timed for the three o’clock hour. It’s not her as much as a kind of recording of her.”

“Close enough.” Since her temper appeared to have cooled, he leaned down, kissed her. “Let’s sit down and eat.”

“What she did when Cleo and I saw her, or that night when I heard someone calling and banging on the door, when I saw the snowstorm that wasn’t there, in that three o’clock hour, that’s her. In the house.”

“When you think about it, she doesn’t use that hour much. Probably costs her more.”

“She doesn’t, now that you point that out. It’s not Dobbs pulling me when I walk, I absolutely know that. Does she watch herself? I wonder. Stand at the window and watch herself die, night after night?”

“I lean yes. Since she’s as crazy as Rochester’s first wife, wouldn’t she consider that one of her finest hours?”

“Yes. And points for Jane Eyre over breakfast.” She looked at him, the wonderfully deep blue eyes, the just-a-little-longer-than-lawyerly dark hair, and that air of calm and confidence he wore as comfortably as his jeans.

“Warning. It’s unwise to tell an irritated woman she’s irritated.”

That simply rolled off him.

“Facts are facts, cutie. I’ve got a family thing later, then a work deal tonight. But I can come by after if you want.”

“I officially give you the night off. I need to put in some solid extra time on the Ryder proposal. Presentation’s coming up, and it has to kill.”

“From what I’ve seen, it already does.” He took their empty plates to the sink. “You’ve got a lot going on. Are you sure you want to do this big party?”

“Completely. It’s just what I need, what Cleo and I need. And honestly, I think it’s what the manor needs.”

“Then I’ll plan on the weekend here, digging out tables and chairs. I’ll rope Owen into it. Now Mookie and I have to take off.”

She went to the fridge, took out a tub of jambalaya. “Your parting gift.”

“That takes care of lunch.” When she put her arms around his waist, he cupped her chin in his hand, lowered his head to kiss her. “I won’t say don’t work too hard because why would I, and why would you listen? So how about go up to your office and kick ass.”

“Just exactly the right thing. You go do the same, because yeah, we love what we do.”

After Trey left with Mookie, Sonya glanced at the dishes. “And Molly loves what she does, so I’ll leave those for her. Let’s go get to work, Yoda. You can come, too, Pye.”

But when they reached the second floor, the cat veered off. Sonya watched her slink down the hall and into Cleo’s room.

Sonya put in a solid two hours, undisturbed, before she saw Cleo and the cat come out.

Sonya saved her work, rose. “I’m coming down with you. FYI, Pye’s been out this morning, and she’s had breakfast.”

“Thanks. I should’ve gotten up earlier and done that myself.”

“Owen let her out, Trey put out the food. But I don’t mind doing both, since I’m already up and doing that for Yoda. And Owen opened your Toaster Strudels.”

For a moment, Cleo frowned, then she shrugged. “I guess he’s entitled. I thought she’d curl up in bed with me, but she’s not a nighttime cuddler. She slept on the window seat.”

“I wonder if she watched the show.”

“What show?” On a yawn, Cleo walked into the mudroom. “And see! She hasn’t used the litter box once! I’m going to let her out again. Yoda, be a sweetie and go with her. What show?” Cleo repeated.

“Get your coffee.” And Sonya got a Coke for herself while she explained.

Irritation, mild but there, surfaced in Sonya when Cleo instantly got the implication.

“It’s like an echo, a repeat. She didn’t see or hear them because it’s not actually happening now.”

“Well, yeah. I was getting to that.”

“It’s fascinating. And now I’m annoyed I didn’t think of it before. Setting an alarm and going out there.” She sulked for half a minute. “I wish Owen had told me he was going to do it.”

“You’d have gone out there with him?”

“Bet your ass.” She made a Toaster Strudel for herself. “I’d say we should do it, but that time frame is for other things, for you. And no, I won’t, because I’m not leaving you alone in that time frame.”

After biting into the pastry, she pointed at Sonya. “I bet, seeing as she’s batshit, she loves it. It’s a big moment for her, and she gets to relive it every night.”

Cleo’s phone played Green Day’s “Basket Case.”

“She’s all that,” Cleo agreed.

As if to prove it, doors slammed upstairs.

“That one’s getting old,” Sonya called out, and made Cleo grin. Still, Sonya went to the door, called to Yoda. The cat led the way back in.

“I don’t really want them out there when she’s acting up. And I’ve got to get back to work anyway. I’m planning to put in some time this evening. I’m going to get the Ryder proposal up on the big screen.”

“You let me know when you’re ready to do that. I want to see it.”

“I was going to ask if you would. I could use the input. It’s just you and me tonight. Well, you and me, cat, dog, and our bevy of spirits.”