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Owen had a beer ready for Trey when he came in.

“Busy night,” Owen commented.

“For a while. You saw the portrait?”

“Yeah, and then you saw her.” He turned to Sonya. “Can’t say in the flesh, exactly.”

“It seemed like it. She was so vital, so vivid. I wondered if you’d have seen her, the rest of the party, like I did.”

“I think he might have. Sonya, start cutting the chicken into bite-sized pieces.” Cleo added the red bell pepper, the onion, and the celery she’d chopped to the sausage she’d already browned in the pot. “I think since Trey and I heard something, it’s different from the mirror anyway. But Owen’s a Poole, so I think so.”

“Maybe Collin saw something, too.” Sonya started on the chicken, with less speed and more precision than Cleo on the sausage.

“Maybe.” Owen gave the vegetables in the pot a stir. “I’m betting the paintings in there add a punch.”

“Agreed.” Trey got out wine, poured two glasses.

“Well, she didn’t like us hanging them, that’s for certain. Thanks.” Sonya stopped work on the chicken to take the wine. “And today?”

She took a gulp of wine, then put it down to work as she told them.

“Pulled out some stops.” Owen watched as Cleo added garlic and herbs to the vegetables, stirred.

“The fog didn’t touch you?” Trey asked.

“No. I pulled my legs up. I really think I’d have those ice burns if I hadn’t. I nearly called you. I’m not ashamed to admit I was close to the edge of panic. But it stopped. Just stopped, all of it.

“Clover was there,” she murmured. “I think the whole time, now that I look back. I think… I think I felt her.”

Her phone played Tom Petty’s “I Won’t Back Down.”

“That’s right, and neither will we. Did I do this chicken right, Cleo?”

“Couldn’t be righter if you’d used a ruler. I need to sauté it. How about letting the kids in?”

“I’ve got it.” Owen went to the door, laughed. “Cat chases dogs. You should see this. She’s even got Jones going for it.”

“It’s like a game of tag,” Sonya said when they looked out. “She chases one, rounds back for the next. I guess she’s permanently It.”

“Smart girls take charge.” Pleased, Cleo went back to sauté the chicken. “I guess they can stay out awhile since they’re having fun.”

While Cleo stirred, the meat sizzled and the scent rose up.

“How long does that take?” Owen wanted to know when she put the browned chicken in with the rest.

“This part? According to my grand-mère, about ten minutes, then I add the spices and the rest, bring it all to a boil. Turn it down, cover it up. Forty-five minutes, stirring several times.”

“So about an hour. I think I’ll poke around a little.” He looked at Trey. “You in?”

In answer, Trey set down his beer.

“Not the Gold Room.”

Frustration darkened Trey’s eyes as he turned to Sonya. “Eventually, cutie, we’re going to have to open that door again.”

“Not tonight. Between last night and this morning… Not tonight. Eventually… You’re right, I know you’re right.”

“It’ll wait.”