Chapter Twenty #3
“Something in here then,” Cleo murmured. “Go on out, sit in the air. I’ll bring the coffee.”
“Thanks.”
And the air felt wonderful. Sitting in the sunlight with the scent of flowers eased some of the fatigue.
When Cleo brought out the coffee, Sonya took the first sip, then nodded. “Just what I needed, sunshine, flowers, more coffee, and Cleo.”
“What did Dobbs do?”
“Cleo, she’s so cruel. That’s not news, but something like last night just cements it. When I left you to go back to bed, Yoda needed to go out,” she began.
Cleo didn’t interrupt, just reached out, took Sonya’s free hand in hers.
“Not just to scare you,” Cleo said when Sonya finished, “but to hurt you. To wring your emotions, to shock and hurt and frighten. To make you see, not just their death, but what death does. And to do it through your father’s art, Collin’s and your dad’s art.”
“There’s a bull’s-eye. I wanted to run, Cleo.”
“Of course you did. I wish I’d come down with you. I wish you hadn’t gone through it alone. The sound effects? I didn’t hear anything. I know I sleep good, Son, but not that good. What you described? It would’ve woken, well, the dead.”
“Just for me then. She didn’t want you to wake up and look for me, to be there with me. She did exactly what you said. Shocked, frightened, hurt. I was sick, Cleo, nearly physically sick right there in the doorway.”
“It stopped at three?”
“The clock chimed, and it stopped. Everything stopped, for a few seconds anyway. Then, it was like all the other nights. Only I watched the piano keys play. It was like—”
Pausing, she shifted to face Cleo.
“Tell me if this is crazy—the control switched. From her to the manor.”
“It doesn’t sound crazy.”
“Good. Now try this. I don’t think she can hurt me—I mean seriously, physically, fatally.
Because she had me on the ropes, Cleo. I was wrecked, and no defenses there if she’d struck out.
She wants me out, clearly, but she can’t do to me what she did to the brides.
I think she can’t because I’m outside the curse.
Maybe if she did, it would break the curse, and she knows that? Do you think that’s possible?”
“We’ve thought that before, and I’m more convinced of it. But it’s still a theory, a good one, but a theory. She’s also crazy, so we know we can’t be sure she might not just lose it enough at some point. You’re going to be careful, as careful as you can be.”
Cleo reached out again, took Sonya’s hand in a strong grip. “You won’t leave. I’ve known you too long and too well to think otherwise. You’re committed, and damn it, so am I. We’re going to remember, and we’re going to use the knowing there’s only one source of evil in the manor. The rest?”
“It’s a damn good house. She used the portraits. Collin said there was something about them.”
“Well, they have magic. They’re beautiful work, but beyond that, they have magic. Dobbs used that in her ugly way to defile them. But it didn’t hold, it didn’t last. The light, the beauty came back. And that’s what holds.”
“I knew I’d feel better once I talked to you.”
“Which is why you should’ve come straight in and told me after it happened.”
“Honestly? I needed to think, and to settle down some. And I really hated she chose such an important night for this. Such a happy night.”
“I doubt that’s a coincidence.”
For a moment, Sonya just stared. “Now I’m wondering why I didn’t think of that. Of course it’s not. She wanted to ruin something beautiful.”
“But did she?”
“No. She had her moment, but that’s it. I’m going up to the gift room, saying Fuck you, Dobbs, then putting together those sweet things we got from Baby Mine for a welcome home.”
“We’ll put them together, along with the pastel we’re going to do of Fiona Kate Miller.”
“Oh, a pastel, from one of the pictures.”
“That’s right. A collaboration. Now give me my fix and show me some more baby pictures, and then we’ll both go up and say Fuck you to Dobbs.”
“He sent so many I put them in an album.” Sonya pulled out her phone, scrolled down, clicked.
“Enjoy.”
“Aw, here’s one of Corrine holding her grandbaby, tears on her cheeks. Happy, happy tears. Now I’m tearing up.”
“You love it.”
“I do.” Cleo pressed a hand to her heart. “Babies just get me. I swear, looking— Oh my, this is the one, I think. See how she’s got that otherworldly look in her eyes. That one where she’s between where she was and where she is. I think they remember everything at first.”
“I love that one, too.”
“This is making my clock tick-tock, tick-tock.”
“Right there with you.”
“We’ll get there, Son. We’ve got a job to do here first, then a few details to work out. Like getting married, or not, getting pregnant.”
“Married or not?”
“I’m all right with or not as long as there’s love, commitment, fealty. No duty or fine match for me like Agatha. Cleo doesn’t settle, so I want all those things. And one of these. Or three or four of these precious little babies.”
She glanced over at Sonya. “The or not doesn’t work for you, and nothing wrong with either way. And, Son, we’re going to get there.”
“Finish the job first.”
“Damn right. Let’s go up and show Dobbs who’s boss around here.”