“And her son, Charlie, opened it up again, moving in with Clover and friends?”
“That’s the story I know,” Trey agreed. “Charlie wanted the place, his parents didn’t, so his father deeded it to him. In trust, if I’m remembering right, until he hit eighteen. He would’ve inherited it anyway, as Michael Poole’s oldest son, and I think Michael Poole died before Charles hit eighteen. Or soon after that. It would be in the book.”
“So Jack would be my great-great-uncle? It’s confusing. I’ve put off reading more of the history and lineage, and I shouldn’t. I need to get back to it.”
She looked over at Cleo. “Anything I can do here?”
“We’re all going to hope I have this under control.”
“It looks like I timed a drop-by on the money. I wanted to let you know we all went over the files, and it’s perfect.”
“You’re good with it?”
“More than. Sadie actually grunted twice, which is effusive praise.”
“I can have it up live first thing in the morning. This is awesome. Every time I think I miss the office vibe I realize how much more I like my own vibe.”
The ball came bouncing into the kitchen. Both dogs gave mad chase.
“Even with that, I like my own vibe. And I guess I should pick up another ball.”
After dinner, Sonya pointed at Cleo. “You had it under control.”
“I did. I’m sort of into it. How about I take the dogs out and you guys deal with cleanup?”
“Fair trade,” Trey agreed.
“Then I’m thinking about movie-time. I’ll use the library if you’re not interested. If you are, it seems like the right moment to break in the media room.”
“Oh.” Her stomach knotted. Knee-jerk, Sonya thought. Time to move on from that. “You know, you’re right. What’s the point in having a media room if you never use it?” She turned to Trey. “Are you up for a movie?”
“Can there be violence, maybe nudity, and harsh language?”
“We’re good with that.” Sonya rose to clear the table. “Scratch sophisticated comedies, dramas, bittersweet romance. We’re all about the action. I insist on strong, potentially kick-ass female lead. Now, let’s narrow that down. Classic or released in the last two years?”
“I love the classics,” Cleo said. “You know what I’ve never seen, commercial free and on a screen bigger than my desktop monitor? The original Terminator.”
“That clicks all the boxes.” Sonya gave Trey a hip bump as they dealt with the dishes. “You get a vote.”
“I vote the next time we follow up with the sequel. Collin’s got the full set of DVDs.”
“Let’s go, boys.” Cleo grabbed a jacket from the mudroom, then stuck her head back in the kitchen. In her best Schwarzenegger, she said, “I’ll be back.”
It was fun. Fun, Sonya thought, to settle down in big, cushy chairs with popcorn. Yes, the bell rang—or more accurately banged—as they did just that. She liked to think ignoring it as the ominous opening music filled the room was a middle finger raised in Hester Dobbs’s direction.
About the time Kyle Reese told Sarah Connor to come with him if she wanted to live, the lights flicked on and off like a strobe.
“She doesn’t like it that we’re having a good time,” Cleo observed.
No, no, Sonya agreed, she really didn’t. When the lights stopped flashing, the banging started. It echoed through the room as the walls shook, and her heart beat hard in her throat.
“It’s pissing her off,” Trey murmured. He took Sonya’s hand. “Just the fact we’re sitting here like this.”
Restless, the dogs huddled near the chairs.
When the doors flew open, their hackles rose on a series of warning barks. They slammed shut again with a crack like a gunshot.
“Just give it a minute.” Trey spoke quietly as Sonya started to rise. “Let it play out.”
Framed posters fell off the walls. Beneath her feet, she felt the floorboards quake. The booming reached a pitch where she wanted to press her hands to her ears and scream for it to stop. Just stop.
As she neared her own breaking point, it did. Just stop.
She realized she gripped Trey’s hand on one side, Cleo’s on the other. Cleo’s trembled in hers; Trey’s was rock steady. And for whatever reason, both helped ground her.
On-screen, the heroes ran from the machine whose only purpose was to kill.