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“Which, again,” Trey said, “makes you smart.”

When desserts arrived, Sonya couldn’t argue about the smart.

“I’ve got it,” Owen said when Trey signaled for the check. “You covered the last time we grabbed a meal—and I’ve had more than a few up at the manor.”

“It’s all yours.”

“Thanks.” Sonya sent a look toward Cleo, got a nod. “Since you’re coming by around five tomorrow, why don’t you stay for dinner? And you, Trey, if you can make it.”

“I think I’m going to try my hand at jambalaya. My grand-mère sent me her recipe. It’s got some heat on it.”

“Then I’m there.” Owen paid the check, grinned at Trey. “I like the hot. I have to take off. I need to get an early start tomorrow.”

“Then we’ll see you around five. And thanks for dinner,” Cleo added.

“Welcome.” He slid out, turned to Sonya. “Maybe I can crash at your place tomorrow night. I wouldn’t mind seeing Dobbs take a header off the cliffs, if she does an encore.”

“Plan on the first, who knows about the second. And you should both see Lisbeth’s portrait.”

“Tomorrow,” he said, and left.

The others didn’t linger long, and drove home in a soft, quiet spring rain.

The dogs greeted them like war heroes before rushing outside.

“We’ll let them back in through the mudroom so they don’t track wet through the house. Cleo and I will show you the portrait.”

“Just waiting in the closet?”

“That sounds right,” Cleo decided. “Waiting. I put some supplies I’d ordered in there a few days ago. Nothing then. Went in today to get something out, and there she was.”

They turned into the music room.

Trey said, “Wow,” and walked closer. “Beautiful, the subject and the work. She’s the first biological Poole up here, and it shows. The resemblance.” He turned to Sonya. “Old photos don’t show it as clearly. You have the same eyes, the same shape of the face.”

“I guess that’s true. Someone—maybe several someones—wants us to have these. And hanging them here, that’s felt right from the first one.”

“And you’re both right about the set. These are painted to go together.”

“I think, before it’s done, we’ll have all seven. One generation missing,” Cleo added.

“Patricia Poole. I think she must’ve had some altercation, some event, with Dobbs. Deuce had old newspaper clippings. Society news, and so on. She’d been to the manor any number of times before she married a Poole.”

“She met Michael Poole Jr. here,” Cleo put in. “We found a gossipy article on that—dinner party deal. She had her engagement party to him here. Another society article, with a photo of them.”

“But not the wedding, and nothing after.” Trey stepped back to study all three portraits together. “I’d bet on that altercation happening at the engagement party. Not all facts in evidence, but—”

“That’s it!” Thrilled, Sonya clasped her hands together. “Talk about smart, and screw all the facts. That makes genius sense.”

“I’m going to agree with Sonya. If something happened before to scare her enough, why consent to the engagement party here? The wedding was, what, Sonya, like nine months later?”

“Ten, and a big, important one, so they’d start planning right off.She went from swanning around for her engagement into breaking Poole tradition and refusing to hold her wedding reception here. Refusing to move into the most important house in the area.”

“Facts not in evidence,” Trey repeated, and slipped his hands into his pockets as he studied the three portraits. “And I’d put money on it. I don’t know what it really tells you, but I’d place that bet.”

“It says Dobbs scared her off, and where and when. I wonder if she showed herself to any of the others before their weddings.”

“I don’t know, but I can’t think she wanted to scare Patricia off.” Cleo spread her hands. “I don’t see why she would when that meant she had to wait another twenty-odd years for her next victim.”