Smoke in Mirrors

grab us a little right now?”
    She smiled. “You’re a real smooth talker, Herb.”
    She put down her glass and pushed herself up out of the chair.
    She didn’t use the walker. Herb took her arm to steady her.
    Together they walked into the shadowed bedroom.

    “About our deal,” Herb said sometime later.
    She chuckled. “Relax, you’ve finally managed to sleep your way to the top, Herb. Your name and photo go on the column tomorrow.”

Chapter Twenty-two
    The phone in the librarian’s office warbled at a quarter past three on Monday afternoon. It was the first time it had rung all day. Leonora started at the unexpected sound. She did not like the unpleasant jolt of adrenaline.
    She had told herself that the strange, nervy sensation was a direct result of the stress she had been under in the past few days and the fact that she’d had the mirror dream again last night. But now she wondered if it had something to do with the eerie gloom that had descended on Mirror House this afternoon.
    She and Roberta were the only ones here. In the wake of the activity that had prevailed downstairs for the past few days, the brooding silence that welled up from the first floor had a hollow quality as if it came from a distant place that was not of this world.
    The phone rang a second time. Leonora closed the little treatise on the use of mirrors as symbols in art that shehad been examining and got to her feet. She went into the small office and scooped up the receiver.
    “Hello?”
    “Awfully quiet around here today, isn’t it?” Roberta said.
    Leonora relaxed a little. “Downright spooky.”
    “It’s always this way the Monday after alumni weekend. I just made some coffee. Thought I’d take a short break. Care to join me?”
    The thought of drinking Roberta’s coffee made her cringe, but she needed something to help her shake off this edgy feeling.
    “Thanks. I’ll be right down.”
    She hung up the phone and walked quickly out into the shadows of the hall. When she started down the main staircase, the somber gloom from the ground floor seemed to rise up to meet her in a relentless tide. Mirror House was a different world today. The glitz and glamour that had prevailed on Saturday night had vanished. The time-warped quality was back.
    The sensation of impending dread grew stronger as she made her way down the stairs. She was conscious of having to push herself to go down the last few steps.
    This was crazy. What was wrong with her? Maybe she was coming down with something.
    She needed that cup of coffee, she thought. She craved the company of another human being even more than the stimulant.

    The glow of the computer screen glinted off the lenses of Deke’s glasses. His fingers moved over the keys with the virtuosity of a wizard crafting sorcery.
    “Okay, I’m in,” he muttered. He did not look up from the screen. “I’ve got Kern’s banking records. Now what?”

    Thomas turned away from the window and walked back to the desk. He looked over Deke’s shoulder.
    “Now we search for some kind of pattern,” he said. “Whatever Elissa Kern found that made her think her father was making blackmail payments to Rhodes.”
    “I still don’t get the point of this search. Stovall told us that Kern was being blackmailed by Rhodes. It’s old news. Kern and Rhodes are both dead.”
    “I’m just trying to tie up some loose ends.”
    “What loose ends?” Deke sounded exasperated. “It’s finished.”
    “Did I give you a hard time when you were acting like an obsessive nutcase because you wanted answers about Bethany?”
    “Yes, you did, as a matter of fact. I seem to recall a lot of lectures on the subject of letting go of the past and getting on with my life. And then there were all those hints that I should talk to a shrink.”
    “So now I’m the obsessive nutcase. Humor me, okay?”
    “Whatever you say.” Deke went back to work on the keyboard. “But I gotta tell you, I had planned to spend today in bed working on my yoga exercises.”

    Roberta was standing behind her desk, stacking framed photographs in one of the three cartons arrayed in front of her. When she saw Leonora in the doorway she looked up with a relieved smile.
    I’m not the only one who has a case of the creeps today, Leonora thought. The oppressive atmosphere had affected Roberta, too.
    “Oh, good, you’re here,” Roberta said. “Please sit down.” She put aside the photograph she had been about to stuff into the carton