She must have dozed, because she was groggy and confused when something brushed against her leg. Another brush, and she started, suddenly wide awake. She pulled her legs up onto the chair, terrified.
Then she laughed, the sound abrupt and surprised, as the culprit, Erika's moody black cat, wandered leisurely into view, sitting down and watching her with eyes that glowed golden in the waning light.
"Well, hello, crazy thing."
She leaned forward to scratch the side of the feline's neck. He angled his head, offering her better access. Jo smiled, surprised the temperamental beast was allowing the attention.
She rubbed the cat for a few more seconds, then straightened up, stretching the sore muscles in her lower back. She was a mess—dog-tired, sore, apparently a nervous wreck.
Raising her hands over her head, she stretched, angling her head from side to side to get the kinks out of her neck. As she dropped her arms, she spotted her.
A pretty woman with long wavy black hair and pale eyes and skin stood on the other side of the courtyard, watching her from the growing evening shadows. Jo sat up, peering at the woman.
"Hi," she called.
The woman tilted her head as if she didn't understand what Jo had said. Then she looked behind her as if she thought Jo was talking to someone else.
Jo frowned, finding the woman's reaction strange. Who was she? Had Ren rented out the apartment he'd originally offered to her? He must have—the courtyard doors were locked now and had been when she arrived.
"Are you renting the upstairs apartment?" she asked.
Again the woman looked at her as if she didn't understand. Maybe she really didn't speak the language. So Jo pointed to the upstairs. "Do you live up there?"
The woman followed her gesture, but didn't respond. She did, however, step closer, and Jo had to reassess her initial opinion of the woman. She wasn't just pretty, she was stunning.
"I'm Jo," she said slowly, emphasizing each syllable, feeling a little stupid, because she still wasn't sure if it was a matter of the woman not comprehending her. Although what else could it be?
The woman's eyebrows drew together as she studied Jo. Then she gestured to herself, patting the base of her throat. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Not even a rush of air.
"You can't talk," Jo said with dawning understanding.
The woman touched her throat again, and nodded.
The poor woman.
Just then, the door to the carriage house opened behind Jo. She turned in her chair to see Maggie coming out, still wearing a pair of silky red pajama bottoms and a matching cami.
"Jo, what are you doing here?"
"I just came to visit before you all head to work. But everyone was sleeping, so I just decided to relax out here."
Maggie joined her at the table.
"And I was meeting your newest tenant."
Maggie frowned. "Who?"
"Your newest tenant." She gestured toward the place where the woman had been standing. But she was no longer there. Jo peered around the courtyard, searching for the woman. She was nowhere.
Maggie looked around, too, clearly trying to understand what Jo was talking about.
"We don't have a new tenant," she finally said to Jo. "It's still just Erika, Vittorio, Ren, and I living here."
Jo studied the shadows and vegetation for a moment longer. "But I just saw a woman in here. Long dark hair, pale skin."
Maggie gave her a quizzical look. "I don't know. Unless she wandered in off the street somehow, she shouldn't be here."
Jo stared at Maggie, not really seeing her friend. She had seen the woman—as clear as day. She'd interacted with her.
What was going on? Was she losing her mind?
"I guess I must have—dreamed it," she finally said to Maggie. "I–I did doze off for a bit."
Maggie nodded, giving her an understanding, almost sympathetic look. "That must have been it."
It must have, Jo told herself again, trying to convince herself of that theory. But she couldn't quite do it. She had seen the woman.
She glanced around again, but there was no one but herself and Maggie there. Then she noticed a small black shape sitting in the place where Jo had last seen the lady.
Erika's cat. He blinked at her, his golden eyes there, then gone for a moment, then back. The wise, unreadable gaze like that of a shrewd, watchful owl.
Jo stared at the animal for a few moments, getting the strange feeling he was watching her with purpose.
"You're right," she finally said. "I had to have been dreaming."
But the explanation didn't lessen the eerie feeling that had returned to her chest. What was happening to her?
CHAPTER 9
Jo put off going back to her place as long as she could. But she couldn't avoid her new home like she was avoiding D.C. This was her new beginning—such as it was so far.
She dropped her purse by the front door, then kicked off her shoes. She paused as a loud hum filled the room, but she quickly realized the noise was the window unit air-conditioner in her living room.
She shook her head, telling herself she couldn't let every noise, every imagined image out of the corner of her eye, terrify her.
She wandered to the kitchen, going straight to the fridge. She had to eat even though she still didn't feel hungry. Grabbing a container of plain yogurt, she went to the cupboard, and pulled down a box of granola. Then from another cupboard, she got a bowl. Once she'd created her concoction of yogurt and granola, she sat at the small café table to eat.
She took several bites, then pushed the bowl away, even as she told herself she should finish it. She had to.
Instead she rehashed the visit with her friends. Maggie and Erika hadn't done much to ease her mind. Both of her friends had watched her with wary, worried eyes as if they expected her to have a full blown breakdown right there in front of them.
Which wasn't completely out of the question.
But she hadn't mentioned what she'd seen or the uneasy feelings she'd had all day. Nor had she told them that Maksim was now volunteering at the center. She told herself, even now, it was because she didn't want them worrying about any of it. Which was true about the hallucinations, but that didn't explain why she didn't tell them about Maksim. She didn't have an answer for that one, she just hadn't wanted their opinion, she guessed.
She'd chatted in a stilted way about grants and programs, and they responded in kind, as if they knew she had other things to tell them, but they didn't want to pry. Jo appreciated that. She would share everything—she wouldn't have much choice eventually.
Jo had actually been relieved when they had to go to work at the bar. Erika had asked her to stay with her while she worked on her latest sculpture, but Jo turned her down, knowing the visit would just continue to be awkward.
Having them fretting about her wasn't help get her mind off all her problems.
So here she was, willing her whirring thoughts to quiet. Which wasn't great, but what could she do?
Go to bed.
She decided that she might as well. She might not sleep, but at least she'd be resting in her bed. And that was better than poking at her unwanted dinner or pacing around her apartment.
She placed her bowl in the sink, then headed to her bedroom. Digging through one of her dresser drawers, she found a pair of pajama bottoms and a tank top. She tossed them on her bed, which she hadn't made up that morning, because she was late. She considered making it up now, but didn't have the energy—and she was crawling right back into it, although the rumpled bedding seemed like another reminder that she wasn't doing well getting her new life in order.
She sighed and headed to the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth. The narrow hallway leading to her living room, kitchen and bathroom was lined with built-ins. She had managed to get all her books and pictures put away. That was a good start to organization, she supposed.