None of his attempts at rationalizing could explain the effect that light had on him. He only knew it was true, and that light had touched him, and he was unable to look away. Where it was going to lead was anyone’s guess.

Chapter 17

CARLY had barely gotten to the carriage house on Friday morning for her appointment with Tony Rosetti when she heard a firm rap on the door a mere second before it opened.

“Miss Summit?” A tall, somewhat gangly woman somewhere between fifty and seventy stood in the doorway, a large leather portfolio in her left hand.

“Yes, I’m Carly Summit.” She inwardly groaned. Somehow she knew what was coming.

“I’m Hazel Stevens. I was told I’d find you here.” The woman walked into the room, leaving the door to bang shut behind her. “Ed Lassiter’s wife told me I could bring my paintings down here for you to look at and you’d hang ’em in the great hall over there in the mansion.”

The entire time she was talking, Hazel was taking in the carriage house from the roof to the floor. She appeared unimpressed.

“Yes, we are looking for some works by local artists for the exhibit, yes,” Carly told her. “There will be a piece in the Gazette this week inviting people to bring there work down for me to—”

“I heard all that from Shelly—Ed’s wife—but I thought, why wait and take the chance that all the spots will be filled up?” She looked around for a flat surface and, finding none, moved two sawhorses close together and laid the portfolio open across them. “Now, I don’t know how many of these you’re going to want, but I know you’ll want at least three of them.”

She held up the first one, then another, then a third watercolor painting of—Grace had called it correctly—cats. Carly had nothing against cats. She liked cats. Hazel’s cats were scary, with large yellow eyes that leaped off the paper.

“Ah …” Carly searched for something to say, but no words came out.

“You’re speechless, right?” Hazel beamed. “I knew it. I knew you weren’t expecting to find talent like this in St. Dennis.”

Carly cleared her throat and took each painting in turn in her hands and held it up as if studying it critically.

“That’s Bitsy, that one there with the black face,” Hazel pointed out. “She’s my baby doll.”

Bitsy was perhaps the scariest of all. Surely the cat herself was a sweet animal. It was her owner’s portrayal that was eerie. Carly put the painting back on the open portfolio and turned the same critical eye onto the next one.

“Now this would be …?”

“Fancy Nancy. I called her that because I always thought calicos looked like they were all dressed up in fancy clothes.”

“I see. Yes.” Carly nodded. “I can see where you’d think that.”

Fancy Nancy was less scary than Bitsy but not by much. It was a shame Hazel wasn’t more of an artist, Carly thought. Her cats were probably very beautiful.

“Tiger, Tiger, Burning Bright,” Hazel said.

“Excuse me?”

“That’s the tiger cat in that last picture. That’s her name.”

“Oh. Of course. I get it.” No, she didn’t really. “Do you mind if I look at whatever else you have in your portfolio?”

“Oh, help yourself.” Hazel reached for her painting of her tiger cat and watched over Carly’s shoulder as the contents of the folder were viewed. She ran a commentary the entire time. “That there’s Milton, and that next one, Sherlock …”

“How many cats do you have?” Carly couldn’t help but ask.

“Oh, only the three right now, the first three I showed you. These others, they’ve all gone over the Rainbow Bridge.”

“The Rainbow Bridge?” Carly asked.

“Kitty heaven,” Hazel whispered.

“Oh. I’m sorry for your loss.” Carly corrected herself. “Losses.”

“Thank you, dear.” While Carly looked through the rest of the paintings, Hazel chatted away.

“You know, when we heard that the town was bringing in some New York art dealer to show our paintings and run our exhibit, well, we all thought for sure you’d be some stuck-up art snob. But Grace Sinclair said you were lovely, and she was right. You’re a very nice young woman.”

“Well, thank you, Hazel.” Carly went back and forth between several of the paintings, trying to decide which one was least likely to frighten small children. “You know, your work is very … unique, Hazel. I can honestly say I’ve never seen anything quite like it. But space in the mansion is very limited, and I did want to save what space we have there for living artists from St. Dennis, so you’d certainly qualify. But in all fairness to others who might want to bring in works for the show, I really can only accept one painting from each artist. I’m sure you understand.”

“Well, I was hoping …” Hazel frowned.

“Of course you were. And I don’t blame you. Your work has a certain … energy, and we’d certainly be privileged to show it. But I can only choose one …” Carly went back through the portfolio a second time, hoping that she might have missed something that was better than what she’d seen. Finally, she pulled one out at random. “I think this one, Hazel.”

“Kitty Bright.” Hazel sighed. “She was my first.”

“Then it’s appropriate that we choose her, don’t you think?” She handed the painting to Hazel. “Now, I’m going to ask you to have this framed, and to hold on to it until we’re ready to start arranging the exhibit in the mansion.”

“All right.” Hazel put the selected work on top of the others in the portfolio and closed it. “I hope you’ll remember that I was the first person to bring in a painting and that Kitty Bright will have a prominent place in the hall.”

“I promise I’ll find the appropriate place.” With a hand on Hazel’s back, Carly guided the woman to the door, opened it, held it for her, then, with a final wave good-bye, closed the door and slumped against it.

She ran a hand over her face, wondering how many more such viewings she’d have to endure.

“Cam, your work has a certain energy.” The voice floated from the other side of the partition.

“I know, Ford. I bet you didn’t expect to find anyone with talent like mine. You’re speechless, right?”

“I sure am. Your work is so … unique.”

Carly peered around the side of the partition and found Cam and Ford leaning against the wall.

“You two think you’re so funny.” Carly crossed her arms across her chest.

Ford walked toward her, laughing. “If you’d heard that conversation from back here, you’d think it was funny, too.”

“Actually, it was pretty funny,” she admitted, “in a macabre sort of way. Those cats were scary. It’s the only word that I can think of to describe them. But I had to pick one.”

“That’s pretty much what you’re going to get from the locals,” Cam told her. “We had an art fair about four years ago and you wouldn’t believe what people brought out.”

“After seeing Hazel’s cats, I’m afraid I would.” She grimaced at the thought of an entire exhibit filled with Hazel’s frightening felines.

“I think you handled her really well,” Ford told her. “I know I couldn’t have kept a straight face.”

Still laughing, Cam headed toward the door. “I’ll be back in an hour or so to finish up,” he told them. “Thanks for the entertainment.”

“So what brings you out this morning?” Carly asked after Cam left.

“I was hoping to catch Tony. I tried to call him this morning to see if he could grab a quick lunch before he heads back, but he didn’t pick up. It’s been a long time since we’ve gotten together, so I thought this would be a good opportunity to catch up. I hope you don’t mind. I wasn’t intending to hang around for your meeting.”

“I don’t mind at all, and you’re welcome to stay while he’s here.”

“So what does Kitty Bright look like?” Ford put first one, then his other arm around Carly.

“All white, huge yellow eyes.” Carly pretended to shudder. “All of Hazel’s cats have huge yellow eyes totally out of proportion. That’s what makes them so scary.”

“But you’ll include it in the exhibit and Hazel will be happy.”

“What’s the point in making her feel bad? She obviously enjoys doing it. There must have been thirty watercolors in that portfolio.”

The door opened and a dark-haired man stuck his head in. “Hello?”

“Yes?” Carly broke out of the circle of Ford’s arms to see who was there.

“Tony Rosetti.” The dark-haired man entered the room. When he saw Ford, he grinned, his arm outstretched. “Hey, buddy. Long time …”