“You’ll want your notebook and tape recorder.”

“WE WERE JUST sitting there talking. I was telling Roz what a wonderful time I’d had last night, and showing her the bracelet. And—sorry Harper—but I was telling her I felt guilty about you buying it for me. And I guess I got emotional.” She sent a pleading look at Roz, clearly begging confidence. “And then she was just there. Like a bang. I’m a little bit vague on it. It was like hearing a conversation—like when you hold a glass to a wall to hear what people are saying in the next room. All sort of tinny and echoing.”

“She was amused, in my opinion, in a nasty sort of way,” Roz began, and took them through it.

“She was accustomed to receiving gifts for sex.” Mitch scribbled in his notebook. “So that’s how she’d equate the bracelet Hayley’s wearing. She wouldn’t understand,” he continued, hearing the quiet sound of distress she made, “generosity, or the pleasure of giving for the sake of the gift. When something was given to her, it was an exchange. Never a token of affection.”

Hayley nodded and continued to sit on the floor with Lily.

“She came here,” he continued. “By her own words she came here at night. She wanted to cause harm to Reginald, perhaps the entire household. Maybe even planned to. But she didn’t. We could assume harm came to her here. She said she was here, always.”

“Died here.” Hayley nodded. “Remains here. Yes. It felt like that. Like I could almost, almost, see what was in her head while it was happening. And that’s what it felt like. She died here, and she stays here. And she thinks of the child she had as a baby still. She’s the way she was then, and in her mind—I think—so is her son.”

“So she relates to, is drawn to, children,” Harper finished. “Once they grow up, they’re no real substitute for hers. Especially if they happen to grow up into men.”

“She came to help me when I needed it,” Roz pointed out. “She recognizes the blood connection. Acknowledges it, at least when it suits her. Hayley’s heightened emotions brought her out. But then she answered questions, she spoke intelligently.”

“So I’m a kind of conduit.” Hayley fought back another shudder. “But why me?”

“Maybe because you’re a young mother,” Mitch suggested. “Close to the age she was when she died, raising a child—something that was denied her. She made life. It was stolen from her. When life is stolen, what’s left?”

“Death,” Hayley said with a shudder. She stayed where she was when Lily ran over to Harper and lifted her arms to be held. “She’s getting stronger, that’s how it felt. She likes having a body around her, having her say. She’d like more. She’d like . . .”

She caught herself twisting the bracelet, and stared down at it. “I forgot,” she whispered. “Oh God, I forgot. Last night, when I was dressing, checking myself out in the mirror. She was there.”

“You had one of these experiences last night?” Harper demanded.

“No. Or not like this one. She was there, instead of me, in the mirror. I wasn’t—” She shook her head impatiently. “I was me, all the way, but the reflection was her. I didn’t say anything because I just didn’t want to go around about it last night. I just wanted to get out awhile, then everything . . . it went out of my mind until now. She wasn’t like we’ve seen her before.”

“What do you mean?” Mitch sat, pencil poised.

“She was all dressed up. A red dress, but not like what I was wearing. Fancy gown, low-cut, off the shoulders. Ball gown, I’d guess. She wore a lot of jewels. Rubies and diamonds. The necklace was . . .” She trailed off to stare at the bracelet in speechless shock.

“Rubies and diamonds,” she repeated. “She was wearing this. This bracelet. I’m sure of it. When I saw it at the hotel, I was so pulled toward it. I couldn’t see anything else in the display. She was wearing this, on her right wrist. It was hers. This was hers.”

Mitch left his seat to crouch on the floor by Hayley and examine the bracelet. “I don’t know anything about dating jewelry, about eras along this avenue. Harper, did the jeweler give you a history?”

“Circa 1890,” he said tightly. “I never thought twice about it.”

“Maybe she pushed you to buy it for me.” Hayley shoved to her feet. “If she—”

“No. I wanted to give you something. It’s as simple as that. If it makes you uncomfortable to have it, or weirds you out, we can keep it in the safe.”

Utter trust, she remembered. That was love. “No. It wasn’t an exchange, it was a gift.” She crossed to him, kissed him lightly on the lips. “So screw her.”

“That’s my girl.”

Lily batted her hand on his cheek until he turned his face to hers, then she bumped her mouth to his.

“Or one of them,” he added.

BY EVENING, SHE was calm again. Calmer still when she settled down in the rocking chair with Lily. She prized these moments, when the room was quiet and she could rock her baby to sleep. Sing to her, and though her voice was no prize, Lily seemed to like it.

This was what Amelia craved, maybe what she craved most under the madness. Just these moments of unity and peace, a mother rocking her child to sleep with a lullaby.

She would try to remember that, Hayley promised herself, whenever she got too frightened or too angry. She would try to remember what Amelia had lost, what had been stolen from her.

She tried “Hush, Little Baby,” because it pleased her she knew all the words. And Lily’s head was usually heavy on her shoulder by the time the song was finished.

She was nearly there when a movement at the doorway had her heart bumping her ribs. Then it stilled when Harper smiled in at her. In the same rusty, sing-song voice she was using for the lullabye, she warned him.

“She won’t go down if she sees you in here.”

He nodded, lingered another moment, then slipped away.

Humming, she rose to walk to the crib, tucking Lily in with her stuffed dog within cuddling reach. “When you’re three, Mama’ll get you a real puppy. Okay, when you’re two, but that’s my final offer. ’Night, baby.”

Leaving the night-light glowing, she left the baby sleeping. Harper turned from the terrace doors when she came in.

“That was a pretty picture, you and Lily rocking in the chair. Mama says she used to rock me and my brothers to sleep in that chair.”

“It’s why it feels so good. A lot of love’s sat in that rocker.”

“It’s cooler tonight, at least a little cooler. Maybe we could sit out for a while.”

“All right.” She picked up her bedside monitor, and went with him.

In front of the rail, there was a trio of huge copper pots, greening softly in the weather. She’d been charged with selecting and planting the flowers in them this year, and was always thrilled to see the thriving mix of color, shape, and texture.

“I don’t mind the heat, not this time of day anyway.” She leaned down to sniff a purple bloom. “The sun goes down a little more, the lightning bugs’ll come out, and the cicadas’ll start singing.”

“Gave me a scare when Mama called earlier.”

“Guess so.”

“So here’s the thing.” He ran a hand absently along her arm. “You shouldn’t stay here after tonight. You can move on over to Logan’s tomorrow. Take some time off,” he continued as she turned to stare at him.

“Time off?”

“The nursery’s the same as Harper House, as far as this goes. Best you steer clear of both for a while. Mitch and I’ll see what we can do about tracing the bracelet, for what that’s worth.”

“Just pack up and move to Stella’s, quit work.”

“I didn’t say quit. Take some time off.”

There was such patience in his voice, the sort of patience that raised her hackles like fingernails on a blackboard.

“Some time.”

“Yeah. I talked to Mama about that, and to Stella about you staying with them for a while.”

“You did? You talked to them about it.”

He knew how a woman sounded when she was getting ready to tear a strip out of him. “No point getting your back up. This is the sensible thing to do.”

“So you figure the sensible thing is for you to make decisions for me, talk them over with other people, then present them to me on a platter?” Deliberately she took a step back, as if to illustrate she stood on her own feet. “You don’t tell me what to do, Harper, and I don’t leave this house unless Roz shows me the door.”

“No one’s kicking you out. What’s the damn big deal about staying with a friend for a while?”

It sounded so reasonable. It was infuriating. “Because this is my home now. This is where I live, and the nursery is where I work.”

“And it’ll still be your home, still be where you live and where you work. For Christ’s sake, don’t be so pigheaded.”

The lash of temper delighted her. It meant she could lash right back. “Don’t you swear at me and call me names.”

“I’m not—” He bit off the rest of the words, rammed his hands in his pockets to stride up and down the terrace while he fought with his temper. “You said she was getting stronger. Why the hell would you stay here, risk what happens to you, when all you have to do is move a couple miles away? Temporarily.”

“How temporarily? Have you figured that out, too? I’m supposed to just sit around at Stella’s, twiddling my thumbs until you decide I can come back?”

“Till it’s safe.”

“How do you know when it’ll be safe, if it’ll ever be safe. And if you’re so damn worried, why aren’t you packing up?”

“Because I . . .” He cleared his throat, turned to glare out at the gardens.

“That was a wise move. Choking back any comment that resembled because you’re a man. But I saw it on your face.” She gave him a hard shove. “Don’t think I didn’t see what almost came out of your mouth.”

“Don’t tell me what almost came out of my mouth, and don’t put words into it. I want you somewhere I don’t have to worry about you.”