“According to the tour guide, that’s where Isabel Perles was found, as well.”
“Joel Aristide told you that?”
“You know him?”
Sigrid let out a loud sigh and rolled her eyes. “I don’t have a lot of time for ‘ghost tours.’ But yes, I know Joel. He must be ecstatic about all this.”
“Wasn’t all that thrilled last night.”
“He’ll recover. His type always does. He’ll play this up, no doubt double his ghost tour business. Disgraceful.”
Harper glanced again at the Reflection room window but saw nothing. Wind chimes tinkled in the breeze, and she could hear the far-off barking of sea lions, but otherwise all was silent and still. And then she remembered why she had come.
“Did Delilah have a dog?” Harper asked.
Sigrid shook her head. “She had a cat that crossed the rainbow bridge a month ago, but no dog. Why?”
“I saw a big black dog in the garden last night. I thought it might be Delilah’s. Then I saw it again, earlier this evening, near my apartment.”
Sigrid stared at her. “Did it bark?”
Harper shook her head.
“Did it have fiery eyes?”
“It— I mean, dogs’ eyes often glow in the dark, right? A lot of animals’ eyes do.”
Sigrid waved away the idea. “It might be a hellhound, or a harbinger of death. Or, of course, it could be a Nahual, a shapeshifter.”
“Or it could be a lost dog.”
Sigrid did not reply, but her unblinking gaze did not waver.
Harper continued, “I like dogs. I’m worried about it.”
“You needn’t worry about this ‘dog,’ ” Sigrid said, making quotation marks with her fingers. She reached into her bag, scrounged around for a moment, then handed Harper a battered business card with a single name,Sigrid, and a phone number. “Let me know if you would like me to do a reading for you. I may not be sensitive to the dead, but I’m quite gifted at reading the living.”
“Thanks,” said Harper, trying not to sound too dismissive. She slipped the card into her jacket pocket.
“Mark my words, Harper Grae,” Sigrid intoned. “If you’veseen the houndanda spirit lingering in the Reflection room window, you should prepare yourself.”
“For what?”
“For what is to come.”
And with that, Sigrid turned on her heel and strode down the block until her tall form was obscured by the dark.
Seven
Hellhound, indeed.
Harper let out an undignified snort as she pulled away from the Perles Mansion. She felt irrationally annoyed by Sigrid’s cryptic comments.
But then, Tariq was right: She had been in a very bad mood for a very long time. She should probably do something about that. A proper night’s sleep would be a good first step. Keeping one eye peeled for the dog, Harper headed back to her apartment.
The light from Ellen’s kitchen window cast a warm, golden rectangle on the driveway leading to the garage. Although the three-bedroom Craftsman home had a cozy living room and a dining room decorated with stained-glass windows and built-in cupboards, Harper had only ever seen Ellen use her kitchen. The retired high school English teacher liked to bake, but mostly she sat at her scarred pine table in the kitchen nook and read novels, solved crossword puzzles, or tapped at her computer tracing her family’s genealogy.
“Knock, knock,” Harper said as she opened the bungalow’s sturdy front door and stuck her head in. “Ellen? It’s me!”
