The Mirror (The Lost Bride Trilogy #2)

“You’re looking to stir her up like I’m stirring up what’s in this pot.” Cleo glanced back over her shoulder. “Good. You’ll have to wait until I can put this on low for us to go with you.”

Sonya took a long, deep sip of wine. “And we need to let the pets in for that. She might send something after them. We stick together.”

When the phone played Bon Jovi’s “Livin’ on a Prayer,” Sonya gave it a dubious look.

“It’s about sticking together,” Owen pointed out. “And I figurewe’ve got three portraits, and you and me? We went through the mirror, both ways. If we’re not halfway there, we’re damn close.”

“She’s been quiet since this morning. Recharging her evil batteries.”

“Cleo said she made some noise this afternoon.”

At Owen’s comment, Sonya spun around. “You didn’t tell me.”

“Oh, she makes some noise most days. And this wasn’t even as much as usual. She just wants me to know she’s there.”

Judging it time, Cleo added cayenne and paprika to the mix, blended it in. She dumped in crushed tomatoes, chicken broth, then because in her opinion it never hurt, added some of the wine before measuring out the rice.

“Needs to boil, then I’ll set the timer for thirty-five.”

“You said forty-five.”

“The last ten’s for the shrimp,” she told Owen. “And some prayers I didn’t screw anything up.”

“Smells great.” Trey rubbed a hand on Sonya’s shoulder. “I’ll let our four friends in. Third floor. I want to see Cleo’s—Owen’s painting anyway. And we’ll check the closet in there. In case. We won’t touch her door.”

Sonya nodded. “But it’ll piss her off, all of us going up there. Yeah, she deserves a slap after this morning. You’re right. You’re all right.”

When he let in the pets, Pye strutted over to leap on a chair at the casual dining table and began to wash.

All three dogs flopped down on the floor as if exhausted.

“She wore them out,” Trey observed.

“She’s already right at home.” Sonya nodded. “I know just how she feels. And it is home. I should be able to go right up to that door and say get the hell out of my house.”

“You were alone this morning,” Owen pointed out. “It shook you up, but it would’ve shaken anybody up.”

“It did, and maybe that’s part of the reason I’m saying don’t open that door. But I feel, honestly, it’s not the time to confront her like that. I think we need more first. But I don’t know more what.”

She huffed out a breath. “I need to arrange to go see Gretta Poole. I’ve been dragging my feet there, too. I’m angry, angry about whatwas done to my father and to Collin, to Clover’s babies. And Gretta Poole was part of that.”

“I didn’t—don’t—know her very well,” Trey began. “I guess she always seemed old to me. Old and…” He broke off with a shrug.

“He doesn’t want to dis a woman in her condition.” Owen sniffed at the pot. “I don’t have a problem with that. She is what she is, was what she was. Weak. My grandmother used to say a jellyfish had more spine than Gretta Poole. I never saw anything to contradict that.

“This is boiling.”

“I’m giving it a minute.” And another stir. “I’ll go with you, Sonya.”

“Thanks, but I think two strangers might be too much.”

“Cutie.” Trey stroked Sonya’s hair. “Everyone’s a stranger to her at this point.”

“I guess that’s true. Still, maybe it should be one-on-one. Especially since it might come to nothing.”

“If you change your mind, I’ll go. Otherwise? It might be interesting to spend some time in the manor alone. I really haven’t yet, except when I first got here and you were out.”

“And you went down to the servants’ quarters. Alone, in an empty house you knew was haunted.”