Page 23 of A Lullaby for Witches

Pausing in her evaluation, she listened, trying to make out what she was hearing. There weren’t currently any tours underway, and as far as she knew, Jill was in her office. She set aside her clipboard and slowly made her way out into the hall and down the stairs. The closer she drew to the dining room, the clearer the voices became. Taking a deep breath and completely expecting to be met with another ghostly hallucination of the past, she was relieved when she opened the door to see Jill and another woman, both very much in the present day. At her entrance, they both looked up at her, breaking off their conversation.

“Hey, I was just about to come up and get you,” Jill told her. “This is Shayna. She does most of our painting conservation, and she’s here to do a pickup.”

“Nice to meet you,” Shayna said, reaching to shake her hand. “Harlowe is one of my favorite stops—you guys always have something fun for me.”

Augusta’s hand was still shaking a little, but she joined them at the table, returning Shayna’s handshake.

“I know you were interested in this portrait, so I thought you might like the chance to take a closer look since it’s coming down for conservation,” Jill said, gesturing to the portrait of Margaret Harlowe on the table.

Careful not to get too close, Augusta leaned over and studied the crackled veneer crisscrossing Margaret’s pale visage.

She was vaguely aware of Jill and Shayna conversing, but their voices quickly faded to the background as she lost herself in the brushstrokes of the painting. Up close, a thousand little details leaped from the canvas that Augusta had never noticed before. The smallest dimple touched Margaret’s cheek where her lips curved up knowingly at the edges. The sitter was a beautiful woman, but her allure transcended just the physical; there was a vibrance about her, something completely bewitching. Though more than a hundred years separated them, Augusta could have seen herself being friends with this young woman, perhaps even loving her.

“I never realized how beautiful she was,” Augusta breathed.

“Wait till you see her all cleaned up,” Shayna said, breaking the spell. “All this varnish was probably put on in the 1950s, and it’s obscuring the original colors. She’s going to look like a whole new woman when I’m done with her.”

Augusta felt an unexpected tug as Shayna and Jill carefully covered the painting with a sheet and carried it out to Shayna’s van. Without the enigmatic portrait, the dining room felt cold and empty, bereft of its soul. She could have stood there all day lost in a rapture, but a ping from her phone reminded her that she was supposed to meet Leo for lunch. With a last glance at the bare spot on the wall, Augusta forced herself to push the laughing green eyes from her mind and headed out.

Leo was already at the coffee shop when Augusta arrived. She hadn’t realized how much she was looking forward to seeing him again until she spotted him on the sofa in the back of the shop. He had been looking at his phone when she came in, his face lighting up in a smile when he saw her.

If he remembered her strange behavior the day before, he didn’t say anything. For her part, Augusta didn’t want to think about the hallucinations anymore or what they might mean for her health. She was doing her best to eat breakfast before she came in, but deep down she knew that wasn’t what was causing the strange sensations. When she’d asked Reggie if it was possible that the carbon monoxide detector might be malfunctioning, he had taken it seriously and checked it out. But of course, the meter and the detector had both been in working order, just as Augusta had suspected they would be. Whatever was causing the hallucinations was inside of her.

Leo hadn’t ordered yet, so they went to the counter together. “What are you having?” he asked, pulling out his wallet.

“You don’t have to pay for—”

But he just waved her off. “Harlowe is paying, don’t worry about it. We’re talking about work stuff, right?”

“Oh, right,” she said. “Nitro cold brew with a splash of almond milk and an extra espresso shot, please.”

“I’ve never tried that, but it sounds good. I’ll have what she’s having,” he told the barista with a wink. “I’ve always wanted to say that.”

“Are you sure? It’s pretty strong.”

“That’s okay, I like trying new things.” There was something in his tone that made her body flood with heat. They took their drinks back to the couch, where they sat next to each other, the cushions dipping so that their knees touched.

Leo took a sip of his coffee and nearly gagged. “You weren’t kidding. That’s...intense.”

“Told you,” she said, laughing. Some of the froth had stuck to his lip, and his eyes were watering.

“Wow.” He swiped the froth from his mouth and placed the offending beverage back on the table. “So, how’s everything going? Still liking it at Harlowe?”

“Definitely,” she told him. “It’s basically a dream come true.” She didn’t tell him about the hallucinations or that she was beginning to believe in ghosts. It was bad enough he’d caught her in the middle of one and she didn’t want him to think that she was completely out of her mind.

“So, do you have any ideas for your exhibit? Anything I can do to help you get going with it?”

She told him about her exhibit idea, and how she wished there was more information on Margaret Harlowe. Seeing the painting up close had only fueled her interest in Margaret. She wanted to know everything about the woman who made her feel so deeply connected to the painting, the house.

He nodded. “She’s definitely an intriguing topic. You should ask Jill if she could spare you for a day to come into Boston and check out the archives there.”

“Jill made it sound like the archives wouldn’t be worthwhile, that they’ve already looked for anything relating to Margaret.”

Leo tilted his head in consideration. “Well, I think to some extent that’s true. Our archivist has a fairly good grasp of what is and isn’t in the collection, but a new set of eyes might turn something up. Besides,” he said, “you should really see the archives and the Boston site at some point.”

Before she could respond, he added, “Why don’t we take a drive over there next week?”

The opportunity to research in the archivesandspend an hour car ride with Leo was almost too good to be true. “I mean, if it’s not too much trouble, I would—”

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