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“I told her I had my dog in the car, and she said to bring you…him…in. So, get in the carrier.” Paige glanced through the spider cracks on the windshield at the woman, offering a smile and a wave before she directed her attention back to Dewey.
“Get in there!” she said between clenched teeth.
“Okay, okay.” Dewey climbed into the carrier on the floor in front of the passenger’s seat, and Paige zipped the lid closed.
“Now, keep quiet, and let’s get these directions and get to our plane.”
“My lips are sealed.”
“Believe that when I hear it,” Paige murmured as she hefted the carrier up and climbed from the car, hurrying back to the covered porch.
The woman waved her inside the large foyer. Her wet sneakers squeaked on the marble floor as she stepped out of the wind, her gaze rising to the ornate ceiling above the winding grand staircase curving to the second floor above.
“Wow,” Paige exclaimed as she stepped inside, admiring the carved details on the wooden banister leading upward. “What a beautiful home you have.”
The woman closed the door and twisted the lock into place. Paige snapped her gaze in that direction.
“Can’t be too careful these days,” the woman said with a smile. “Come this way. You can sit by the fire while I get the tea.”
“Really, you don’t have to make tea. Just the directions would be fine.”
The short older woman slipped her arm around Paige’s and walked her toward a set of double doors. “Nonsense, dear. Now you get cozy by the fire in here, and I’ll be right back with the map and some tea.”
She swung the doors open to an enormous room. A roaring fire greeted them from the opposite wall. The woman led Paige toward it, motioning to a wing-backed armchair near the flames.
“You’ll be nice and warm here,” she said as Paige eased into the leather seat and gave her a weak smile. “I’ll be right back.”
The woman shuffled across the room and offered Paige a wink and a smile as she pulled the doors to the sitting room closed.
“Paige! Paige!” Dewey whispered from within the carrier once the doors clicked shut.
“What?” Paige hissed.
“This is super creepy. Let’s bolt.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes!”
Paige’s eyes settled on a large bronze statue standing on the bricks outside the fireplace. A wolf stood on three legs, its fourth lifted with its paw spread. Its lips formed a snarl, teeth bared, and ears flattened.
“You’re right. This place is creepy. Let’s go.” Paige threw the carrier’s strap over her shoulder and leapt from her seat, hurrying toward the foyer.
Before she could grab the handle, the door popped open. The old woman stood with a tray of tea. Her eyebrows rose as she spotted Paige just inside the door.
“Oh, hi, umm, I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” Paige deflected.
“Rosabelle,” the woman answered. “Rosabelle Wilson.”
“Right. Well, Ms. Wilson–“
“Rose, please,” the woman said, parading into the room with the tray.
“Rose,” Paige said with a weak chuckle, adjusting her glasses on her nose, “I was just looking for your powder room.”
“Oh, of course, dear. It’s across the foyer, first door on the right.”
“First door on the right,” Paige repeated. “Thank you.”
