But as she took another slow step downward, she saw Mojo pass by the bottom of the stairs. Though it wasn’t unusual to see her little black cat in the hallway, she was pretty sure she’d never seen him carrying a toy before.
Was he taking it to his secret stash?
Moving as quickly and quietly as she could, she went down the rest of the steps and peeked into the hall. He was heading toward their room. She followed him, watching him disappear through the door. Tip-toeing as fast as possible, she hurried to the bedroom and just saw his tail vanish into the utility room on the other side. Trotting now, she went to the doorway, only to find him sitting on the door to the basement. Toy still in mouth, he calmly looked at her.
She put her hands on her hips. “Seriously? The basement?”
They’d been there several times and she’d never seen anything that resembled a pile of toys.
But in answer, he dropped the stuffed toy in front of him—a googly-eyed green frog wearing a little pink bow—and gave her a loud, tinny, and insistent meow.
Maris frowned at him, then blew out a breath. “I’ll get the key.”
The big black skeleton key turned the lock’s gears. The familiar grinding noise filled the quiet room, echoing a bit, until there was a final clunk. Mojo cocked his head down at the door as the key began to turn freely. As Maris grasped the handle, he picked up his stuffed frog.
“You’re about to go for a ride,” she warned him, and began to lift the wood door.
Not only did he not seem to get the hint, he remained on the door until it seemed he would have to slide off. But at the last possible moment he lightly leapt down, and disappeared down the stairs into the dark.
“Wait,” she called after him, determined to see his stash. Quickly, she trotted down the first few steps, hit the light switch, and saw him at the bottom of the stairs. Then he darted off.
Moving fast, she headed to the bottom, keeping an eye on him. As she stepped to the floor, she turned to follow him and saw him leap up onto the antique dresser—where he came to a stop and took a seat.
“The dresser?” she said, striding over to stand in front of it.
How could he possibly open it?
As she paused to consider the little puzzle, it slowly dawned on her what she’d done. She glanced back at the steps, which she’d practically run down. A cold shiver raced down her spine as she pictured herself simply marching into the enclosed space. Though the ceiling wasn’t particularly low, looking up at it made her heart beat faster. She pursed her lips and took a deep breath. Only seconds ago, when she’d been worried about losing sight of Mojo, she’d been fine.
Was that the key to avoiding her mild claustrophobia? To have a purpose? Or simply something else to think about?
A tiny thud from the dresser startled her. With a hand over her heart, she turned to see that Mojo had dropped his toy again. He gave her his signature meow.
“Okay, okay,” she said. “I’m opening the drawer.”
Though she’d noticed the dresser on previous visits, she’d never taken the time to investigate it. She’d come down here to get a glimpse of Mojo’s secret stash, but she also had Glenda’s pendulum in mind. Though she’d found its box in her aunt’s room, the pretty green stone was gone. Even now she still held out hope that it would someday reappear.
As she opened the top drawer though, it was neither the pendulum nor Mojo’s toys that greeted her. Instead, it was a stash of a different kind.
“Posters,” she said, taking out the short stack. “Blues on the Bay.”
After what Helen had told her, it made sense. No doubt Glenda had kept them as mementos of the festival she’d helped to found. Maris rifled through them, in reverse chronological order, going back to the very first festival. With a strange sense of history repeating itself, she imagined her aunt coming down to this very spot at the end of every year’s event and depositing them. She smiled a little to herself. Now she would be the one to add to the pile. She put them back in.
As she grasped the drawer handle to slide it back in, something in the front corner caught her eye, glinting. She slid the drawer out even further and had to gasp.
“The silver chain,” she whispered.
She snatched it out and held it up to the long fluorescent lights overhead. There was no doubt about it. It was completely unique. This was the silver chain from which the pendulum had hung.
About a foot and a half long, it was thick, composed of a tiny floral motif of woven flowers and minuscule leaves. The ornate ball clasp was hollow and at least a quarter inch in diameter. Though it could use a good polish, Maris would recognize it anywhere.
Eagerly, she took out the posters again, pulled the drawer as far open as it would go, and ran her fingers around the bottom of it.
Nothing.
Quickly, she opened the drawers below it. One after another she rummaged through lace tablecloths and napkins, a collection of baby clothes, some beautiful scarves and handkerchiefs, and finally packages of silk stockings. Under any other circumstance, Maris might have happily looked through all of the interesting finds. But now she had but a single goal in mind. Though she searched each of the drawers completely—twice—the pendulum simply wasn’t there.
She blew out a breath as she slowly closed the bottom drawer and finally stood.
Again she held up the silver chain.
How had it gotten separated from the pendulum?
As she tried to imagine what might have happened, she suddenly realized that Mojo was no longer on the dresser.
“Hey,” she said, turning to look around
