The doorbell rang.
“Okay. Here we go.”
Yoda danced at the door, and when she opened it, the dogs immediately greeted each other with canine joy.
“A man, a dog, and a pizza. Jackpot!”
“You have to pay for it with a ghost story.”
“No lack of those around here. Let me take your jacket.”
“I’ve got it.” He handed her the pizza before heading to the closet.
From the library, the iPad played “Welcome to the Party.”
“They never quit. Come on, boys. And man.”
“From what I’ve heard, your DJ has eclectic tastes.”
“They lean toward rock or pop, spanning eras. And…” Sonya glanced back as they walked toward the kitchen. “They’re quick. How did things go with the client?”
“Outside of privilege, I can say good enough. I’m also going to say, that alone?” He pointed a finger up. “Would send a lot of people heading back to Boston.”
“I like music.” After setting the pizza box on the counter, she peeked inside. “Pepperoni and black olives.”
“I hear that’s your go-to.”
“No secrets in Poole’s Bay.”
“Oh, more than a few.”
“I guess a lawyer would know. Want a beer?”
“Thanks.” His brow lifted when she pulled one out of the fridge. “Sam Adams.”
“I hear that’s your off-tap go-to.”
“So it is. Bottle’s fine, I don’t need a glass.”
She handed him the bottle and wine for herself. “Has Mookie eaten?”
“I picked him up too early for him to mooch off Jones.”
“Then he can mooch off Yoda.”
She fed a couple of hungry dogs, got plates before they settled at the small table. Trey slid a slice on each plate before tapping his bottle to her glass.
“Did you get a chance to text Bree?”
“I did, and she grilled me some. Food allergies and all that. I just said you didn’t mention any. She wanted your skill level.”
“Did you tell her nil?”
With that slow smile, he shook his head. “Sorry, cutie, the pot roast ruined you there.”
“That was a one-off.”
“I hope not. Anyway, she said she’d send you something. She’s tight with her mom, so you got points for wanting to make dinner for yours.”
Sonya’s eyes laughed over a bite of pizza. “And Manny? Is she tight there, too, by now?”
“Don’t know, didn’t ask. Don’t really want to think about it. Pay up.” He gestured with his beer. “Astrid.”
“Astrid. I think I went through the mirror again.”
“The mirror from your father’s sketches.”
She nodded, drank some wine. “I don’t remember that part, but it felt like it. Which is impossible to explain.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I don’t know if it was a dream or real, but it felt real. I was in the front parlor,” she began, and told him.
“I woke up, or whatever I did, standing by the bed again. But Yoda was still sleeping. Maybe because it wasn’t scary this time, or not scary and tragic like seeing Marianne Poole die.
“But she saw me, Trey, and looked at me, spoke to me. No one else in the room did. I think she’s the piano player. She doesn’t play in the parlor now, and I’m wondering if it’s because she’s sad. And that night, the night I saw, everyone was happy.”
“You didn’t call me,” he pointed out.
“It wasn’t scary, not like before. I admit, I’d actually feel better about it if I thought I’m hallucinating. But I’m not.”
“I can go through the house, try to find the mirror.”
“I don’t think you’d find it. I honestly don’t think anyone will until it’s ready to be found.”
“You’re ascribing a will to a mirror.”
She put a second slice on each plate. “And that’s the strangest thing about all this?”
“Got me there.”
“I’ve thought about it, a lot. I think these—I’m calling them dreams—are a positive. I’m seeing and hearing and learning. Not just names and pictures in a book. And it’s not like a movie, because I’m in it somehow. Like I step into that time, that moment.”
Brows lifted, he studied her face. “You’re adding time travel to hauntings?”
At that, she could only shrug. “And if I’d thought or said any of this a year ago, I’d have raced to the nearest shrink.”