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“Cleopatra’s barge. The little Sunfish.” Owen shrugged. “Had a little time, had an idea.”
“Such as?”
“She likes mermaids, doesn’t she?” Rising, Owen pulled the drawing out of the slot, opened it. “So how about a pair of mermaids swimming up port and starboard toward the bow? Add some carving. It’ll be fun to work on.”
Trey scooted his chair for a better angle. “And seriously cool. You’re trading her this for a painting?”
“Have you seen the painting?”
“Got a glimpse when we hauled that chest in there. It’s a beauty. So’s the artist.”
“Yeah, they’ve both got the looks. And it’s a fair trade. Anyway,she might not want the fancy work. She’d be stupid not to,” he considered, “and she doesn’t come off stupid, but we’ll see. I’m just playing with it, spare time.”
“I’m taking my spare time and crashing. Thanks for the drink, and the bunk.”
“Always here.”
Owen’s spare room had started as an office, but Owen had deemed it too closed in. No elbow room.
He preferred the kitchen table or one of the workbenches in his shop.
So in its current state, it held a bed, a nightstand he’d built himself, and a dresser no one used that he’d refinished.
The walls, a sad beige, bore a few stripes of paint Owen tested and had yet to decide on.
Trey stripped down to his boxers, dropped down on the bed, and was asleep almost before he yanked up the covers.
In the manor, Cleo barely stirred when the clock sounded. Rolling over, she snuggled into her nest of pillows and floated in that netherworld between wake and sleep.
The piano music drifted up, and used to it, she drifted back off.
Somewhere, deeper in the house, a woman wept. Somewhere, deeper yet, one cried out in pain.
“Everybody quiet down,” she muttered.
Then she shot straight up when she felt a hand on her shoulder, when she heard a voice whisper, urgently:
Sonya.
Pulse racing, she fumbled for the light. Alone in her room, she rubbed a hand between her breasts so her heart wouldn’t just leap out. No panicking, she ordered herself. Absolutely not again.
Probably dreamed it, she thought, probably dreamed it, but…
Wide awake now, she hurried to the door. Sonya stepped out of her room and started to walk down the long hall. Burying her instinct to rush to her, Cleo raced back for her phone.
“Please let this be the right thing.”
The phone pulled Trey out of a dead sleep. For one terrible moment, he could only think Marlo had taken a turn for the worse.
“It’s Trey.”
“Cleo. Sonya’s walking. She said if she did, I should follow her and call you. I’m following her and calling you.”
“I’m on my way.”
“I’m close behind her, but… Maybe hurry.”
He grabbed his pants, yanking them on as he went to bang on Owen’s bedroom door.
