Cleo gave Trey a sorrowful look. “So said every soon-to-be-slashed-to-ribbons character in a horror movie.”
“This ain’t no movie.” So saying, Owen headed left.
“Oh well.” Cleo followed.
They went inch by inch, foot by foot. Cleo got her chest, and Sonya found a pair of teak chairs she wanted for the widow’s walk.
They found mirrors—wall mirrors, hand mirrors, cheval glass—but they didn’t find the mirror.
In the ballroom section, Cleo started a pile of take-downstairs items.
“This is like the best antiques shop ever. I mean, look at this little lamp.”
A nude goddess in bronze formed the base. The hard candy–pink shade dripped with crystals.
“It looks like it came out of a whorehouse,” Owen commented.
“I know! I love it. She’s going to sit on a table in my sitting room. Unless you want her, Sonya.”
“She’s all yours. Antiques shop, bordello, fun house. I swear, every time I come up here I see something I didn’t see before. I should’ve taken all the sheets off first round. Eventually I should move some of this to some of the third-floor bedrooms. They’re not all furnished, and it seems wasteful to have so much stuck up here.
“Eventually,” she added. “Because I don’t see using any of those rooms in the near future.”
“You’re going to give up that whole wing because of one bitchy dead witch?”
“Owen, you haven’t been here when she gets going.”
With her head bent as she pulled another sheet, she didn’t see the look Trey and Owen exchanged.
“Dogs need to go out. Why don’t you and Cleo do that,” Trey suggested. “Owen and I can grab the chest.”
“Wouldn’t mind a cold one.”
“Cokes now, alcohol after.” Cleo clapped her hands for the dogs. “Okay, gang, time for a pit stop.”
Trey waited until the sounds of barks, footsteps, and women’s voices receded. “So?”
“Let’s go. I don’t remember the rooms in that wing. Never had a reason to spend time there.”
“I know where it is.”
He led the way.
“You know, I have to say there is something creepy about this section. The light’s off,” Owen commented. “Not turned off, just not quite right. The air’s colder.”
“It wasn’t, at least not that I noticed. It’s noticeable now.”
“You’re worried this is where she comes when she does the mirror walk.”
“I’ve had some moments there. But she’s got a point when she says it’s not Dobbs with the mirror. A lot colder here. Right here.”
They stood in front of the Gold Room door, and could see their breath come out in streams of fog.
Owen reached for the door handle, then jerked his hand back. “Shocked me, not just a little jolt either.”
Something hit the door.
“The fucking wood bowed out. Did you see that?”
Trey nodded. And it struck again.
“Is she trying to get out, or trying to keep us out?”
Trey pulled the sleeve of his sweater over his hand. “Maybe both. Bang on the door.”
As Owen pounded his fist, Trey grabbed the door handle, twisted.
The door flew open. The wind that slammed it back against the wall blew like a gale. Yet nothing moved. Even the curtains at the windows hung straight and still.
The windows behind them shot open, banged shut. In the hearth a fire kindled and blazed without wood to feed it.
Once again, the walls bled.
“I gotta say,” Owen began, “this is kind of cool.”
But Trey felt his temper click up when he thought about Sonya opening the door.
“This is bullshit.”
Trey stepped forward. As his foot hit the threshold, something struck him with enough force to lift him off his feet and fling him back until he hit the wall.
The door slammed.
“Hey, hey!” Owen dropped down beside him. “Take it easy, easy. You hit hard.”
“Knocked the wind out of me. Shit. Shit!” he repeated as he heard running feet.
“Pal, you just got tossed in the air by a dead woman. I think you can handle your girlfriend. Just stay down a sec.”
“Oh my God, what are you doing? What were you thinking?”
And Trey found himself warding off a trio of dogs and two women.
“You’re hurt. There’s blood. Cleo, call nine-one-one.”
“Stop.” Because he felt the blood trickle from his nose, he swiped at it. “I don’t need an ambulance. Come on, Mooks, back off.”