“We don’t need search warrants. Let’s go back to the inn. I want to take a closer look at that silver doughnut.”
“I thought we were supposed to be doing recon.”
“We’ve done enough for now.”
“All right.”
They turned and walked toward the warmly lit windows of the inn.
“I’ve been thinking about that installation in the gallery tonight,” she said after a moment. “Maybe it wasn’t theMona Lisaor Botticelli’sTheBirth of Venus, but was it that bad?”
“What are we talking about? I need a hint.”
“Succubus. Do I look like a creature from a horror movie when I come out of a trance?”
“Vincent Grant is an unstable, obsessive psychopath. Why are you taking his work personally?”
“Because it is a very personal work of art. It wasme, Luke. Right down to my chimes and…and my eyes. Don’t try to deny it.”
“I can’t believe we’re arguing about this.”
“Neither can I.”
“You want an opinion on that damn sculpture? How’s this? By invoking the ancient myth of the succubus, the artist attempted to convey a sense of female power, mystery, and sexuality while also acknowledging the ancient tensions between the sexes. The use of the chimes is of particular significance. It brings ambivalence to the scene, implying the potential for harmony as well as discord.”
She stared at him for a moment and then she could no longer contain the laughter. It bubbled up and spilled into the night. Aware that two people passing by on the path were looking at her, she clapped a hand over her mouth until she regained control.
“I am impressed with your insightful analysis,” she said.
“Thanks.”
“No wonder your family wants you to be the next CEO of Wells, Inc. You’re pretty good when it comes to thinking on your feet.”
Twenty-Five
Sophy sat on the whitevelvet hassock, Bruce at her feet. Together they watched Luke use the flat tip of a tiny screwdriver to pry the mirror-finish tile from the inside of the silver doughnut.
“Got it,” he said.
He handed the screwdriver back to her. She slipped it into the miniature tool kit that he had produced from his duffel bag.
Of course he carried a miniature tool kit, she thought, amused. Whatever else you could say about the Wells family—and there was alotthat could be said, according to Bea—a talent for engineering was in their DNA.
“Well?” she prompted. “What is it? Some kind of paranormal recording device?”
Luke held the small tile in both hands, examining it intently. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
He set the tile down on top of the pedestal and leaned into the doughnut hole to take another look. “Here we go. This is much more familiar.”
He reached into the sculpture and removed a small object.When he turned around she saw the palm-sized crystal in his hand. The stone was a dark sapphire blue and shaped like a pyramid.
“There’s energy in this crystal,” he said. “Even I can sense it.”
Sophy remembered the ghostly shadows of Bea and Deke moving around the pedestal. Somewhere out on the psychic plane she heard the pure, clean notes of invisible chimes.
She held out her hand. “Let me see that.”
Without a word, Luke gave her the pyramid. He watched as she closed her fingers around it and opened her senses.
