“You noticed that, huh?” I stared up at him, trying to read how much his being here was going to put a tail spin on my day, but he had an ace poker face.
The front door opened before we could say anything else. Zelda stood in the doorway—and it was really Zelda, at the moment. I could tell by her clear green eyes and perky smile, both of which matched the big happy-faced daisy on her white sweater.
“Hi, Violet.” She turned to my partner in crime. “Good to see you again, Mr. Harvey.” Her smile faltered when it landed on Mr. Black, but she held the door wide. “Why don’t you three come in out of the cold?”
Mr. Black motioned for us to lead the way, so I made a mental effort to steady my nerves and went first. Walking into Prudence’s house was akin to diving into a cold dark pool filled with a bad-tempered shark. Harvey shuffled in behind me, muttering something under his breath about feeling like he was walking into a necktie party.
The foyer smelled the same as yesterday, sweet with a hint of pain surely to come. The lights were on this time, though, which was an improvement from the hair-raising darkness I’d endured with Cornelius yesterday. I could hear some soft guitar, blues-type music coming from the kitchen. It sounded like Eric Clapton, but the voice didn’t match.
Zelda closed the front door after we’d all made it inside and locked it. I tried not to let the heavy clunk of the deadbolt spike my blood pressure, taking a deep breath, but my shoulders tightened anyway.
“Follow me,” Zelda said, stepping around us and heading for the living room.
Mentally crossing my fingers that a second round in the ring with Prudence was not about to take place, I followed her and took a seat at the far end of the couch. What I wouldn’t do to be sitting in Aunt Zoe’s kitchen right about now with her Betty Boop cookie jar clutched in my arms and my cheeks full of chocolate-anything cookies.
Harvey plopped down on the other end of the couch, keeping a safe, out-of-reach distance from me. After the wacky shit we’d witnessed at Prudence’s hands in this very room, we both preferred to keep a planet-sized circle of safe space around us if possible.
Mr. Black didn’t sit. Instead, he walked to the front window where I’d seen the sheer curtain sway upon our arrival and stared out into the snowy world. His back was ramrod straight. The side of his face had hard edges under a layer of pale skin. Something about his stance made me think that he didn’t want to be here anymore than I did.
Zelda stood clutching her hands behind the leather chair, shooting worried glances in Mr. Black’s direction. “Can I get you anything to drink? Tea or coffee?”
“I’ll take some warm whiskey if ya have it,” Harvey said. “Three fingers’ worth.”
“I’m good,” I told Zelda, frowning at Harvey.
He frowned back and whispered, “What? This occasion calls for some bottled courage.”
Zelda turned to Mr. Black. I could see her indecision on her face. She was probably debating on pressing him for a drink order or leaving him to his rigid post at the window. In the end, she opted for the latter and disappeared.
I shifted on the couch, trying to ease the tense muscles burning in the middle of my back. I wondered if Prudence was in the room with us, and if so, was she standing over me calculating how to bruise me next.
I looked at Harvey. He was staring straight ahead, opening and closing his mouth, like a fish out of water.
I cleared my throat. When he turned my way, I gave him a what-the-hell look. He mouthed something back, but I had no idea what he’d said.
What? I mouthed back.
He waved me off, continuing with his fish impression.
When I returned to Mr. Black, his dark eyes were locked on me—wary in his scrutiny. I felt as if he were trying to see something behind my eyes that only he knew was there, but what? A nugget of subconscious truth maybe, or evidence of a secret I hadn’t realized yet.
I shifted again, glancing toward the kitchen. Where was Zelda with that dang drink? Was this one of Prudence’s games—rushing me here and then forcing me to sit quietly and wait until she was good and ready.
I focused back on Mr. Black, squaring my shoulders. Enough of this silence. “How long have you known Ms. Zuckerman?”
“A long time.” He spoke succinctly, offering no further explanation.
But I wanted more. “As long as she knew Ms. Wolff?”
Rumor had it that the dead Timekeeper and Ms. Zuckerman had been thick as thieves for many, many, many moons.
“Longer.”
I looked over at Harvey. He motioned me to continue.
I pointed at him and flapped my fingers and thumb together, wanting him to join in the conversation.
He shook his head and zipped his lips, the big chicken.
Zelda returned with a small glass half-filled with amber liquid and handed it to Harvey. “It’s not the most expensive whiskey, but it’s Zeke’s favorite and packs a strong punch.”
He took it. “Much obliged.” Without pause, he downed half of it in one swallow. Then he coughed, gasped, and coughed again before smiling at her. “Good stuff,” he said in a strained voice.
Zelda sat stiffly in the burgundy leather chair, casting cautious glances all around.
Okay, enough with whatever game Prudence was playing today. It was time to get this show on the road. “I’m sorry to be rude, Zelda, but could you please tell Prudence to come out and play. I’m sure Mr. Black has limited time to offer us today.”
Zelda gave me a strained smile. “Prudence is already here.”
I looked back at Harvey,
