The Mirror (The Lost Bride Trilogy #2)

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-three

She enjoyed every minute in the home of her childhood with her two favorite women.

Some of the presentation blur faded, and what didn’t, Cleo filled in.

After dinner, now cozy in pajamas, they sat in the living room with wine and lemon chiffon cake.

“I can’t believe that son of a bitch came after you right before your presentation.”

“Winter MacTavish!” Cleo snorted. “Do you kiss your daughter with that mouth?”

“I do.” Winter leaned over, kissed Sonya to prove it. “And he actually claimed he’d broken the engagement.”

“It’s easy to rewrite history and make yourself the hero of the piece.” Sonya shrugged. “Seeing him like that? So slick and smug and patronizing? It just made me more determined to show off my stuff. And it made me appreciate Trey even more.

“They’re there again tonight,” she added. “Trey and Owen at the manor. I called him when I went up to change. He—they—didn’t have to do that. I think he feels, and Owen, too, they’re not just taking care of Yoda and Pye, but the manor, and what’s in it.”

She sipped some wine. “They both watched Dobbs jump again last night.”

Winter shuddered. “I can’t imagine that. And don’t really want to. I like better imagining the girl—because she was just a girl—who gave birth to your dad playing music for you, looking out for you. I like knowing you have four pieces of your father’s art in the manor. The one you took with you, and the three you found there. It matters to me. It puts him there with you, too.”

“And here with you,” Sonya murmured.

“Always. I wonder if knowing he is—with me—made it easier to accept what goes on in your manor. I worry about you, both of you,” she admitted. “But I worry less knowing you’re there for each other, and Clover and Molly, and the rest you’ve told me about.”

“And next month, for a couple of days, you’ll be there, too.”

“Can’t wait. Summer called me today. She got your invitation. I didn’t ask if you’d included her because I didn’t want to pressure you.”

“Mom, I don’t blame her for what Tracie did. It was her choice to get naked with Brandon, several times. It’s not her mother’s fault.”

“She’s coming. Her and Martin. She’s booking a room at the hotel.”

“We have room for them. They’re welcome to stay at the manor.”

“Martin? Ghosts? Never.” Winter laughed at the idea. “If Summer and I ever take a sisters’ trip up there, she’d stay. But Martin, that’s a hard no.”

“I forgot. He won’t watch scary movies either.” Remembering now made Sonya grin. “He wouldn’t make it through a single night at the manor.”

“Your grandparents, both sets, will want to come. If they can, the hotel’s a better fit there, too. You let me worry about that end of things.”

In the morning, they loaded the car again.

“Drive safe and—”

“Text when we get there.” Sonya hugged Winter hard. “I’ll see you soon. I love you.”

“I love you right back, both of you. Oh, and let me know when you hear from Ryder.”

“I will, either way.”

“I’m proud of you either way, but now I really don’t want that jerk to get it.”

“Right there with her,” Cleo said when they got in the car. “If it’s as pretty at home as it is here today? I’m unpacking, then taking my easel outside. Paint with me.”

“Cleo.”

“Come on. I know Trey texted and said not to worry about getting Yoda and Pye. They’ll bring them and dinner tonight, and yay to that. But it’ll be noon easy before we get home. Then we have to unpack, take a breath. Who starts their workday at like one in the afternoon? We worked hard. Let’s play.”

The day stayed pretty, making up for a couple of rounds of ugly traffic. The sight of the manor, rising up when she rounded the last turn, made Sonya’s heart clutch in a way she hoped never got old.

“Cleo, the tree.”

“I see. Oh, when all those flowers open, it’ll be spectacular.”

A few had, giving a hint of beauty to come. Delicate pink dripping from those curved and twisted branches whispered Spring, spring, spring .

“The garden center’s going up a couple places on our do-it list.”

“I’m buying a hat.” Cleo got out of the car, stretched. “Next trip to town I’m getting a cute gardening hat.”

“You have your adorable painting outside hat.”

“And your point?”

“I have none,” Sonya admitted.

“God, what a gorgeous afternoon. We’re painting. I won’t take no.”

The minute Sonya opened the front door, her phone broke out with “Can’t Stop the Feeling!”

“We’re happy we’re back, too.”

They hauled in suitcases, shopping bags, laptop cases, and ignored the counterpoint of doors slamming on the third floor.

Sonya took a breath.

“It’s big, it’s beautiful, it’s haunted. And it’s ours.”

“Unpack, gather supplies, then we’ll paint this gorgeous day.”

“Quick stop to check my email, texts, and so on. Text Mom we’re home, and do the same with Trey.”

“That’s allowed.”

“It’s too soon to hear from Ryder, but I have to check or I’ll obsess.”

“Of course you do, and of course you would. When do you think?” Cleo asked as they started upstairs.

“By the end of the week, maybe. Better if it’s into next week. I’m thinking the longer it takes, the better my chances. A quick decision probably leans toward By Design. So I’m going to check, then put it out of my mind.”

When she found no communication from Burt Springer, she considered it a good sign. Maybe she couldn’t put it completely out of her mind, she thought as she unpacked, but she could push it into the back.

She dug out the shirt of her father’s she used as a smock on the rare occasions she painted. It made her think of him, feel close to him.

She had a set of his brushes she’d packed away, and one of his easels, a palette.

When she walked out with Cleo to set up, she looked around.

“Are you doing the tree?”

“No, I’m waiting for it, full dress.” Cleo gestured. “I’m looking at the view of the bay, the lighthouse from here.

“I’m doing the tree,” Sonya decided. “A between-seasons thing.”

As they set up, Clover went with Elvis and “Spring Fever.”

On a laugh, Sonya set her canvas. “I guess we’ve caught it.”

They chatted off and on as they painted, and Sonya found herself enjoying it all. The air, the scents, the call of birds. And experimenting with color and shape that had nothing to do with work.

Though the tree with its few brave blooms and fat, waiting buds stood as the focus, she had the turret rising behind it, the rounded shape, the golden stones, the tall windows.

And the shadow that came and went behind the glass in the library.

An hour in, Cleo stepped back from her own to wander over to Sonya’s.

“Sonya, you know that’s good.”

“It’s not bad.”

“Good. You’ve caught the light, and the delicacy of the blossoms. The scatter of them gives impact to the witchy shape of the tree. The way you’ve used the turret, it’s good perspective, and impactful again with the contrast. Then there’s the hint of shape in the window. Just a touch of spooky.”

“It was there. I feel like it’s Clover this time.”

When her phone played “Say My Name,” Sonya looked up again. “Looks like I’m right about that. I like her there, and in the painting.”

“We’re hanging it.”

“Let’s see how it finishes up.” She glanced around, then walked to Cleo’s canvas. “You know this is wonderful. Dreamy, almost fanciful, but real. Rocky coastline, the perfect blue of the bay sliding out to sea, and the boats—at dock or gliding. The bits of the village, there’s a sturdiness to that, the weathered brick of the Poole building.

“And the lighthouse guarding it all. Sabbatical, my ass. Where will you put it?”

“If it turns out the way I hope, I think I’ll talk to Kevin at Bay Arts. We’ll see. Right now, I’m painting for me, so that’s the sabbatical.”

They went back to it, painting through the afternoon to Clover’s musical interludes.

“We’re going to do this more often.” Cleo wiped most of the cerulean blue off her hand. “But that’s it for me today. I need to step away from it. Bring it out again tomorrow.”

“I’m done. I got what I wanted. If I keep playing with it, I’ll end up with something else.”

“It’s really good, Son. You painted something you love, and it shows.”

As they started to pack up, they heard the truck coming. So did Clover, as she hit it with Thin Lizzy’s “The Boys Are Back in Town.”

As it had when she’d seen the manor again, her heart clutched when Trey’s truck rounded the bend.

This is love, she thought, and it feels amazing. Terrifying, overwhelming, and amazing.

She ran to the truck the minute Trey parked. Yoda and Mookie leaped out first to greet her like a long-lost lover.

“I missed you, too. Missed you! I know you were good boys. You’re such good boys. And you.” She threw her arms around Trey. “Hello.”

Because she couldn’t help it, she put that clutching heart into the kiss. And it opened like the buds on the tree when he answered in kind.

“Come on, boys, what about me? Give those two a minute and come see Cleo.”

“Welcome home,” Trey murmured, and drawing back, laid a hand on her cheek. “I missed your face.”

“I missed yours, and everything else.” With a sigh, she laid her head on his shoulder. “Thanks for looking out for everything while I was gone.”

“I want to hear all about it. What’s this?” He gestured toward the easels. “Art class?”

“Cleo’s idea of an afternoon playdate. And it was actually fun. A good way to shake off the traffic and travel.”

“Let’s have a look.”

He kept her hand in his as they crossed the lawn. He came to Cleo’s canvas first.

“You did this in an afternoon?”

“It’s not finished, but I had the concept in mind for a while. Light Over Poole’s Bay .”

“It’s terrific, seriously. You did this?” he said to Sonya.

“And it is finished. Cleo’s going to do the full bloom, so I decided to do Between Seasons .”

“You should play more. If I could do this, I’d play all the damn time.”

“That’s when play becomes work,” Sonya reminded him. “Let’s get all this inside.”

“Owen’s bringing Pye?”

Trey nodded as he helped them break down. “He had a few more things to do, so he’ll pick up dinner.”

“Great. We can take all this up to my studio. I’ll clean the brushes, Son.”

As they started up, so did the banging.

“There she goes. Did she do much of this while we were gone?” Sonya asked.

“She lets you know she’s pissed. Nothing major the last couple days. More when you come up to the third floor. We checked the studio closet every night,” he added, “just in case, but nothing.”

“I looked before we went outside, but take another look now, Sonya.”

“Nothing yet.” Sonya closed the closet door.

“I’ve got the brushes,” Cleo said again. “Go pour me a glass of wine.”

“How’s your mom?” Trey asked as they started down.

“Wonderful. It was so good to see her, to have that time with her.”

“And Boston?”

“I asked Cleo how she felt when we got there, and she said exactly what I felt. She said she felt like a visitor. And when we got to the house, I realized that would always be home. How lucky I was to have all the memories of growing up in that house, to know it’s a place I’ll always be welcome. And what a difference a few months can make, because other than Mom, I missed Boston so much less than I thought I would.

“I missed this guy more.” She bent to rub Yoda. “And you,” she added, giving Mookie the same treatment.” Then straightened. “And you.”

She paused at the music room, looked at the portrait. “I missed this house with everything in it. Except…”

“Goes without saying.”

When they went into the kitchen, she saw the pet treats, a ball of string, and Yoda’s ball on the island.

“Somebody missed the pets,” Trey told her. “The first night you were gone, when we came in, those were there, plus all the cabinet doors were open, the counter stools, the chairs turned over on the floor.”

“Poor Jack. What did you do?”

“Had what most people would consider a monologue. Talked about how Owen and I had to look after the pets since you had to be away for a short work trip. How we’d come back with them after work every night.”

When he pulled out two dog biscuits, two dog butts hit the floor.

“Last night, the stuff was on the counter again, but everything else stayed in place. So I guess he got it.”

She watched him pass out the biscuits. “You’re a sweet man, Trey.”

“And that’s usually the kiss of death.”

“No. Just the opposite for me. You took my dog to work with you.”

“He won Sadie over. That’s not a snap.”

“And you brought him back after work—you and Owen brought Yoda and Pye back, stayed here because you didn’t want to leave the house empty after all that’s happened. You talked to the ghost of a little boy who missed having the pets around to play with.”

She ran a hand down the sleeve of her shirt. “My father was a sweet man. Not a pushover, not—what’s the word for it? Treacly.”

“That’s a good word.”

“It is. So I know and value a sweet man when I see one.”

The dogs leaped up, raced toward the front of the house seconds before the doorbell bonged.

“That’s Owen. Pour that wine—I’ll go for that, too.” Trey kissed the top of her head. “I’ll get the door.”

While he did, Clover played the Pretenders’ “I’ll Stand by You.”

“It’s true. I would. Will. And knowing he will? It changes everything.”

She poured the wine.

Then smiled at Owen, reached for another biscuit and the cat treats when Pye and Jones came in on either side of him. “There’s beer,” she told him.

“I don’t mind that.” He nodded at the wine, so she got out another glass.

“So, welcome back. What’s this about the asshole ambushing you before the deal?”

“What? What ambush?” Trey demanded.

Sonya poured the fourth glass. “How did you know about that? Telepathy?”

“That’d be cool, but no. Cleo texted me right after you got home, I guess to make sure I hadn’t lost one of her cat’s nine lives. She mentioned it.”

“There she is.” Cleo all but purred herself as she came in and scooped up the cat for a snuggle. “Thank you.” She gave Owen a chaste kiss on the cheek that had him eyeing Trey.

“I bet you got better than that.”

“I can’t lie. What ambush?”

“Brandon decided to needle me before the presentation.”

“He should’ve been gone,” Cleo added as she set the cat back down. “He was lying in wait, and that’s an ambush. Asshole.”

“Which Cleo called him, to his face. My favorite part. He gives her one of these.” Sonya put on a superior look, added a slight nod. “‘Cleo.’ And she gives him the same nod, with an ‘Asshole.’”

Both women broke into laughter as Owen grinned at Cleo.

“Well played. Major points.”

“You didn’t tell me about any of this.”

“I wasn’t going to text you about his bullshit,” Sonya began, then stopped. “You’re mad. It barely shows, but you’re mad. I wasn’t holding something back, I swear. I just didn’t want to get into that stupidity in a text.”

“Then let’s hear it now.”

“All right, yes, he should’ve been gone, so he did lie in wait. Our escort was surprised and embarrassed when he came strutting down the hall.”

“He looked like a mannequin.” Cleo peeked into a take-out box. “Lobster rolls, perfect.”

“Fries, too. Better put them in the oven on warm,” Owen warned, “if this is going to take a while.”

“It won’t. It didn’t.”

“Going in anyway, and my mannequin comparison wasn’t a compliment. Fake man covered in designer smug.”

“That’s true. He lied about why he was still there. The escort told us later. He was just trying to get under my skin, claimed he’d been chatting with Miranda Ryder—she’s top dog—and had the account sewn up. He claimed she’d confirmed it. That I only got the offer to present because of Burt—Burt Springer—and he made that sound salacious.”

“Another good word,” Trey said.

“I’m full of them today.” Because that insinuation still stuck, she gulped wine to swallow it down again. “Burt’s another sweet man—a man old enough to be my father. A family man. It turns out Cleo illustrated his granddaughter’s favorite book. He reads to his four-year-old granddaughter. That’s the kind of man Burt is.”

“That’s something you didn’t mention to Burt Springer,” Trey assumed.

“No. Would you have?”

“No.”

“He called her a bitch.”

“Well, shit.” Owen looked at Trey.

“Cleo.”

“Well, Son, he did.”

“He said, after I told him to fuck off—in classier words—that he didn’t realize I’d had so much bitch in me, and he was glad he’d dumped me. Which he didn’t, and which, at this point, doesn’t matter. I handled it, okay?”

“And then some” was Cleo’s opinion.

“He wanted to make me nervous, undermine my confidence, and he did just the opposite. He revved me up.”

“And she crushed it. Outside of college presentations and run-throughs like we did here, I’ve never actually seen my girl in action. Crushed. It.”

To emphasize, Cleo clinked her glass to Sonya’s.

“I want to hear about it. But if he contacts you or gets in your way again, I want to know about it. And not,” Trey added, “two days later.”

“There really wasn’t anything you could have done,” Sonya began.

“You’d have known you had someone pissed off for you.”

Owen just held up two fingers, so Cleo held up three.

“No, make that four,” she said. “Winter. But in Sonya’s defense, she did her Taylor Swift and—Clover, bring it.”

“Shake It Off” rocked out.

“And I did.” Sonya rocked her hips and shoulders to prove it.

“I’ve got a question, but I want food, and so do the animals. I’ve got this part covered.” Owen went to feed the pets.

“What’s the question?” Sonya asked as she got plates.

“How’d you hook up with an asshole?”

“Jesus, Owen.”

“No, Trey, it’s a fair question—and I’ve asked myself the same. The answer’s really twofold. First, he hid the asshole really well for quite a while.”

“I have to agree there.” Cleo pulled out the fries. “I nearly liked him. I mostly liked him because of Sonya, but I nearly liked him, and I’ve got an excellent asshole meter.”

“He was great with my mother, and that’s important to me. He was supportive at work, interested—or seemed to be interested in what I had to say. Attentive without being smothering, easy with my friends, and all of it.”

When they sat at the table, she hunched her shoulders. “It wasn’t until after the engagement that I started to see little things, then bigger ones. For the most part, I thought it was just my own nerves or the stress of planning this big, elaborate wedding. Doing a house search, all of it at once.”

“Which you didn’t want,” Cleo pointed out.

“Which I didn’t want. On that fateful day—before I knew it would be that fateful day—I realized there were things we had to address, talk out, come to better compromises on. Then, well, no need for that.”

She sampled a fry, smiled. “The second part, and it’s really the first? I wanted, I really wanted, to start to build what my parents had. The problem with that, other than him being a lying, cheating asshole? We didn’t want the same things at all. I’d just started to understand that when—fateful day.

“I’m grateful for that fateful day because—and I’ve done a lot of soul-searching on it—I wouldn’t have gone through with it. The wedding. I’d probably have sent the invitations out, gotten that close, which would’ve been horrible. But the closer we got, the more he showed me, and the more unhappy and just unsettled I felt.

“So there you have it.”

“Legit,” Owen decided, and pointed at Trey. “Howie Queller.”

“Yeah.” Trey shook his head. “Friend of ours. High school and beyond. A few years ago, the three of us are having a beer, what, about a week before his wedding?”

“About that. And he all of a sudden pops up how he doesn’t want to do it. Doesn’t want to get married, how he’s stuck now. Trey’s soothing him some. Got the jitters, you love her, right? And Howie’s saying how he thought he did, but he doesn’t. He’s not ready, and she wants this and that, and he doesn’t. Trey’s, man, you gotta talk to her, figure this out. How you don’t want to make promises you can’t keep.”

“And you?” Cleo asked.

“Owen said: ‘You don’t put a ring on someone’s finger unless you want it to stay there. If you don’t, don’t.’”

“Now Howie’s all but crying in his beer about how excited his mom is, how her dad’s spent all this money, how Alma—that’s the bride—can’t talk about anything but the wedding. So he gets married.”

“We handled the divorce under a year later,” Trey finished. “And it wasn’t pretty.”

Sonya ate some lobster roll. “I could’ve been Howie.”

“Nah.” Owen grabbed more fries. “Howie’s a moron.”

When they’d eaten, talked, when the kitchen was put to rights again, Cleo moved toward the mudroom for a jacket.

“I’m going to walk out with Pye and the boys, and call it early.”

“Early’s good. Thanks for bringing dinner, Owen.”

“No problem. I’ll walk out with her, and go from there. I still have things to get to.”

When they went out, Sonya turned to Trey. “I’m trying to be sorry you were angry on my behalf. A little at me, but mostly for me.”

“Mostly for, yeah. I know his type; I see them in court. I don’t like that you had to deal with him.”

“That’s why I can’t really be sorry. Come upstairs with me. I missed you. I missed being with you.”

But first she held him. “I’m really, really glad I wasn’t Howie.”

“Since I’m thinking about getting you naked, I’m thrilled you’re not Howie.”

Outside, Owen started to call Jones.

“I’ve got a question first. What was your immediate thought when I said the asshole called Sonya a bitch?”

“That Trey and I should take a ride to Boston, then flip for who got to punch him first.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Trey wouldn’t do it, not for words. But if that fucker goes after her again, even with words, he’ll find a way to make him pay for it. That’s what Trey does.”

She nodded as they walked, as the sea beat its drum and the moon sailed overhead.

“I took a pair of his boxer shorts when we packed up his crap. I buried them with a curse. I really hope it worked at least some.”

“What kind of curse?”

“Jock itch.”

Owen winced, shifted. “Remind me to stay on your good side. I’ve got to get going.”

“Mmm. Do you snore?”

“Nobody’s complained. Why?”

“I like my sleep, so I need to know if I’ll let you stay after we have sex or boot you out.”

She turned, wrapped around him, and kissed him in the moonlight like a woman who’d already made up her mind.

“Is this because I talked about punching that guy?”

“That put a cap on it, but there are several more reasons in the bottle. Do you want to hear them now?”

“Not really. Do you snore?”

She smiled, took his hand, and drew him toward the house.

“Why don’t you come in and find out?”

Dobbs didn’t wait until three.

Just after one, the doorbell began its bong. And smoke alarms through the manor began to scream. The dogs leaped up barking.

Trey was out of bed in a flash and dragging on pants.

“It’s Dobbs.” Sonya scrambled up. “It’s got to be.”

“It’s Dobbs, but we need to check. The alarm company’s going to call, give them the code, tell them to hold off the fire department.”

“I don’t remember the code. Damn it!” The echoing boom from the third floor nearly drowned out her voice.

“LBM-1794.”

Trey was out of the bedroom a step ahead of her and hit the hallway as Owen and Cleo rushed out of Cleo’s room.

He said, because he couldn’t think of anything else, “Okay. Ah, Sonya’s going to hold off the fire department. You head down, we’ll head up. If you see any smoke, any fire, send me a nine-one-one.”

Shoving at his hair, Owen nodded. “It’s Dobbs, but we look.”

“It’s Dobbs.” But Trey began opening doors as he worked his way down the hall. “And we make damn sure.”

“I told them it was some sort of a malfunction and we’re working on it.” As Trey did, Sonya checked rooms on the way to the stairs. “God, Trey, she wouldn’t actually start a fire. She wants the manor.”

“She’s a lunatic. We check.”

“There’s no smoke. Not even her kind.” But Sonya’s heart hammered as they hurried to the third floor.

Her phone played Tom Petty’s “Makin’ Some Noise.”

“That’s right, that’s right, Clover. She’s just making some noise.”

Enough that Sonya wanted to cover her ears.

But she worked her way down the hall with Trey, opening doors, checking rooms.

“The door to the Gold Room’s already open.”

“Yeah, I see it.”

She grabbed his hand. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Too late not to think about it.”

“Stay!” She snapped at the dogs. “And that means you, too.”

“I got it.” Maybe it grated, but he got it. “We decline the invitation.” But he shined his flashlight into the thick, deep dark of the room.

He expected to see her, floating above the floor, arms outstretched, hair blowing, eyes lit. But except for furniture, the room stood empty.

“She’s not in there.” Sonya tightened her grip on Trey’s hand. “She’s somewhere else in the manor. Cleo, Owen.”

“They’re fine. So are we. We finish this floor, then the ballroom, the rest.”

But when they started toward the ballroom, the cold washed over the hallway in an ice floe of air.

The lights they’d turned on snapped off.

Sonya felt it, actually felt it move by her. Like breath on the back of her neck. The dogs let out a growl that turned to a whine as it passed.

In the dark, a shadow darker still flowed down the hall.

A whisper came. “Death lives here.” And a scream followed it.

The Gold Room door slammed; the lights flashed back on.

Silence fell so fast, so complete, Sonya’s ears rang with it.

“Back in her cave,” Trey muttered.

“I felt her. I felt her right behind me.”

“Did she touch you?” Trey shoved the flashlight back in his pocket to run his hands over Sonya.

“No. At least—no. But I felt… Like someone breathing down the back of my neck.”

He spun her around, pushed up her hair. “Nothing. Does anything hurt?”

“No. No. It was just a sensation. And I saw her, or the shadow of her. Did you see that?”

“Yeah, I saw it. I want to check the rest. We want to be sure, but I think it’s over for tonight.” He took her hand again. “Okay?”

She went with him, room by room.

“I’m texting Cleo to let them know we’re nearly done. You must’ve noticed Owen didn’t go home after all, and came out of Cleo’s bedroom.”

“I was a little distracted at the time, but it was hard to miss.”

“Thoughts?”

“I’ll go with Joe Pesci and ‘There’s a fucking surprise.’”

After an hour of stress, she laughed. And with considerable relief as they started back down, she leaned her head toward his shoulder. “You’re okay with it?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? They’re both all grown up. You?”

“Cleo’s my person, Owen’s my favorite cousin, so I’m absolutely fine with it. And I’ll ditto your My Cousin Vinny quote.”

They reached the bedroom level as Cleo, Owen, Jones, and the cat came out of the servants’ passage.

“All clear,” Owen said.

“Same. A lot of noise and disruption, which was her point. She left the Gold Room,” Trey added. “Wandered around some.”

Sonya suppressed a shudder. “We saw her go back in. That’s when the noise stopped.”

“She did what she set out to,” Cleo pointed out. “Got us all up and searching the house like the Scooby Gang.”

“I’d say she’s not happy you and I came back from Boston, Cleo.”

“Oh, there’s that,” Cleo agreed as they started down the hall as a group. “And I think she got bitchy because there were four people sleeping in the house.”

“That’s happened plenty before.”

“It has.” She smiled at Owen. “But this time four people were sleeping after, let’s say, they’d enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh.”

“Jesus.” As Sonya snickered, Owen scrubbed his hands over his face. “That’s a way to put it.”

“She’s not flesh, and she can’t enjoy its pleasures.” Cleo shot a look at the ceiling. “I’m saying the old witch is jealous. I’m going back to bed.”

Cleo turned to her room, gave Owen a look over her shoulder. “Well?”

“Well. Yeah.” He glanced at Trey. “It’s been a night,” he said, then followed Cleo.