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“Hunting for treasure,” Trey explained. “Collin used to hide a dog biscuit or rawhide bone, so Mookie could… I guess we missed that one,” he said as Mookie nosed under a chair cushion and came out with a dog treat.
“Well, hell.” Owen dug into a pocket of the coat Sonya still held.He took out a small biscuit, tossed it to Jones, who fielded it with a quick snap. “Fair’s fair.”
“That’s it. I’m getting one.”
“We’re getting a dog?” The idea had Cleo slapping her hands together. “We need a cat, too, Son. This place is made for a faithful hound and a good, slinky cat.”
“More disclosure.” Sonya carried the coats into the closet. “Cleo’s going to move in. That’s okay, isn’t it, Trey? I mean, it doesn’t break any terms, does it?”
“Yeah, it’s okay, and no, it doesn’t. It’s good. Welcome aboard.”
“Thanks.” Cleo spread her arms. “I don’t know who could resist a place like this, but I’m not one of them.”
From the library, Cyndi Lauper rang out with “Girls Just Want to Have Fun.”
“And that,” she said with a laugh, “is only one more reason why. Did everybody but Sonya know the place is haunted?”
“She had full disclosure there.” Trey hooked his thumbs in his jean pockets. “She wasn’t buying it.”
“So that’s not unusual?” Sonya asked. “Cuing up songs on my tablet?”
“They like music,” Trey said simply.
“And you.” She pointed at Owen. “No reaction?”
“I’m more into rock than pop, but Lauper’s always cool.”
“My friend’s a realist.” Cleo gave Sonya a one-armed hug. “So this is a little tough for her. I’ll balance that out.”
“Let’s not keep these men and their dogs standing in the foyer. We’ve got things moving from there to here, and here to there. If any of it’s too much, that’s fine. But I have beer.”
She led them up to start with the Victrola.
“That’s a nice piece.” Owen ran a hand over the wood cabinet. “In damn good shape, too.”
“I meant it, Owen. If you want something, it’s yours.”
“He can’t have the mermaid.”
Interest flickered as Owen turned to Cleo. “What mermaid?”
“She’s in another section—a floor lamp—but you can’t have her.She’s already mine. I’ll negotiate on the desk in case it has any sentimental meaning. I’ll go as far as rock, paper, scissors on the settee we already moved, but I stand firm on the mermaid.”
“Anything but the mermaid,” Sonya qualified. “I want to move the Victrola down to the music room. Unless you want it, Owen.”
“I’m good.”
They hauled it down, then the cabinet for sheet music while Sonya and Cleo carried boxes of old records.
The dogs trailed up, trailed down. Then sensibly wandered into the library to nap by the fire.
“That’s where I want to put Collin’s painting. Johanna’s portrait. I can find another place for the still life. If you need a break—”
“Sonya.” Trey set a hand on her shoulder. “We carried two pieces. I think we’ve got more in us.”
“We’ve got the mermaid, and a big desk. Cleo’s taking over Collin’s studio.”
“You paint?” Owen asked as they started back up.
