Page 21 of The Attic on Queen Street

I tried to lean back again, forgetting that I wasn’t close enough to the table, and did the weird arm-flopping thing again. “Yes, but you didn’t call to let me know.” I worked hard to mask my enthusiasm as an accusation.

“I didn’t want to give myself time to change my mind. And I didn’t think you’d say no.”

“Does this mean Marc is holding up his end of the arrangement?”

“Yep.” He patted his satchel. “He’s signed all of the papers and I’ve got them right here for us to go over and sign to make our agreement official. Not that I trust him, of course. But he’s not getting a ruby from us until he’s met all terms first.”

Mrs.Houlihan interrupted. “Will you be staying for dinner?” she asked, already reaching for the box of whole wheat pasta noodles.

Jack looked at me. “It’s up to Mellie.”

I pretended to think. “Well, if you think it’s for the best, then you should stay.” Both of us acted as if the decision was mine.

“I’ll set the table,” Nola said, making everyone, including the twins,turn toward her. Usually she disappeared when she sensed Mrs.Houlihan making dinner and was unable to hear us when we called her to come help, her hearing suddenly sharp when it was time to eat.

“I just put clean sheets on the bed, Mr.Jack, and I’ll make sure there are fresh towels for you in the master bathroom.”

I tried not to look overly hopeful and occupied myself with saving my spreadsheet in three different ways, so I was able to hide my disappointment at Jack’s answer.

“Actually, Mrs.Houlihan, I’ll be staying in the guest room. I know where the sheets are and I’m quite capable of making the bed myself.

“And I’ll be sure to lock my door,” Jack said at the same time I said, “And I’ll be sure to lock my door.” Except only one of us meant it.

I don’t think I imagined thehrumphuttered under Mrs.Houlihan’s breath as she turned back to the stove.

Nola had just reentered the kitchen when the doorbell rang again. “I guess you want me to get that,” she said, sounding as if she carried the weight of the world on her narrow shoulders.

“Only if you want to get fed tonight,” Jack suggested.

With a heavy sigh, Nola headed out of the kitchen again. After a few moments, she returned with Beau Ryan behind her, a pleasant smile on his face. Nola wore an annoyed expression and her cheeks appeared sunburned. Jack and Beau stared at each other, waiting for Nola to say something, but she seemed unusually flustered.

Finally, Beau reached out a hand for Jack to shake and introduced himself. “You must be Nola’s dad. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr.Trenholm.”

“Likewise,” Jack said, giving Beau’s hand an extra shake. I thought I saw Beau wince. “What can we do for you?”

“Actually, I came to see Melanie. I told her I’d find out about something that may have come from the cistern out back.”

“ ‘May have’?” Jack asked.

“We think so,” I said. “Nola found this in her room.” I retrieved the Frozen Charlotte in her little coffin from my briefcase and placed it on the table before opening the lid. “And she’s lying in a bed of antique buttons.”

For the first time, the scent of smoke wafted from the coffin, strong enough to make me cough. “Does anybody else smell that?” Blank expressions met mine around the table.

Sarah let out a piercing shriek from her high chair, her gaze focused on the tiny doll in its coffin, my daughter’s little arms and legs straining to escape. Jack scooped her up and she clung to him, her face buried in his neck. JJ remained oblivious, busily attempting to pick up loose Cheerios from his tray with his nose, his ever-present whisk clutched in one tiny fist. For some reason, he had chosen it as his comfort item since he was an infant.

Mrs.Houlihan turned from the stove to face us, an avenging wooden spoon held in her hand, red sauce staining the edge. “And I found that... thatthingin the refrigerator. That wasn’t very nice, Nola.”

Nola glanced at me with wide eyes and I quickly shook my head. She turned a repentant face toward the housekeeper. “I’m so sorry, Mrs.Houlihan. I won’t do it again.”

Beau watched Nola carefully as she spoke, a speculative expression on his face.

“I’d appreciate that.” Mrs.Houlihan turned to me. “One more for dinner?”

“Yes,” I said.

“No,” Nola said at the same time.

Jack raised an eyebrow, his assessing gaze moving between Nola and Beau.