Page 41 of The Shop on Hidden Lane

“I’ve been thinking about the immunity theory,” he said. “I don’t have any—not to your talent. Just the opposite. I can resonate with it. That’s a very different situation.”

She looked doubtful. “Are you sure?”

“I’m not a para-engineer but I come from a long line of engineers who work with hot psi. I know the basic para-physics.”

Her eyes brightened with something akin to hope. “So, I’m not dangerous?”

“Not to me.”

The spark of hope faded. “Oh.”

“I’ll try not to take that personally.”

She reddened and concentrated on lifting a slinky-looking black dress out of the suitcase. “You know what I mean.”

“No,” he said, “I don’t.”

“It’s not as if you were one of my experiments,” she said quickly. Too quickly. “I mean, if you were someone I happened to be dating, your immunity or whatever would be a very hopeful sign.”

“Damn right,” he said through his teeth. “I am not an experiment.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re the one who made it clear at the start that you were not interested in having any kind of relationship with me.”

She was right. He had said something along those lines.

He gave up trying to analyze the new twist in their non-relationship relationship and reached into the duffel to pick up his shaving kit. He paused when Bruce whined softly. The dog was probably bored with the sniping.

But Bruce didn’t look bored. He was sniffing around a waist-high, transparent acrylic pedestal that held an abstract sculpture made of highly polished metal. The artwork was about two feet tall, round, with a large hole in the middle.

“Do you think he’s going to pee on that pedestal?” Sophy asked. “Housekeeping won’t be thrilled, that’s for sure.”

“Bruce knows better than to mark his territory indoors,” Luke said.

But Bruce was paying a lot of attention to the pedestal.

Luke set the shaving kit on a nearby table and walked to stand in front of the sculpture. He touched Bruce’s head.

“What is it, pal?” he asked softly.

Bruce sat down, ears sharp, and watched Luke with an expectant expression.

“He’s alerting, isn’t he?” Sophy asked, intrigued.

“I think of it as hisdo something, dummymode,” Luke said.

He reached out and cautiously brushed his fingers against the side of the circular sculpture. It was cool to the touch.

Sophy watched him. “It looks like a big silver doughnut.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” he said. “But I admit I don’t have an eye for modern art.”

She gave a small cough. “Maybe it’s supposed to have some romantic symbolism to suit the theme of the room.”

“Sometimes a silver doughnut is just a silver doughnut.” He kept one hand on the sculpture and walked slowly around the pedestal, examining it closely. He stopped when he was once again in front of the artwork and moved his hand inside the opening, feeling for seams in the metal.

Sophy set the black dress on the bed and crossed the room. She halted beside Bruce. “You’re thinking about the fountain out in front of the inn, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”