Smiling to himself, Joe puffed along. When he’d run twenty minutes, he turned around to run back. His plan was to lengthen his run by five minutes every week. After he crossed the road to return, the sun was in his eyes, so Joe didn’t see the small crowd until he was much closer to home. Stunned, he slowed, ran in place for a moment until he could evaluate what he was seeing, and then bounded up the stairs to the apartment. “Chuy, come down!” he called, and returned to the sidewalk.

There were at least five nice cars and a television crew at the Midnight Hotel. There were concrete planters full of flowers outside the main door of the hotel, which was situated on the corner. There was a banner hanging over the entrance, which Joe couldn’t read until he’d walked to the corner opposite the hotel.

The banner read, NOW OPEN!

Chuy was beside him in five minutes, fresh and clean in khakis and an oxford-cloth shirt. His dark hair was carefully combed and styled, his mustache newly trimmed, and he smelled wonderful.

“Don’t hug, I’m sweaty,” Joe warned him.

“No kidding,” Chuy said. “Is this not crazy? How’d the Culhane woman get them to work so hard?”

“A spell?” Joe shrugged. “Plenty of money and lots of workers make for a quick completion.”

“But this is incredible. And how’d she get media coverage? This is an old hotel reopening in Midnight, not a casino in Vegas!”

“Let’s go listen,” Joe suggested, and they crossed the street to stand just behind the gaggle of people in front of the hotel.

Eva Culhane looked even sleeker and more powerful than she had the day the redo had begun. She was all glammed up in a formfitting gray herringbone skirt and a white sleeveless blouse. Ridiculous black high-heeled sandals made the most of her legs. Her hair was loose, rippling down her back.

“That’s a first,” Chuy said. “The hair.”

Joe nodded. “I’m trying not to worry about this. She did buy the sofa and the sideboard from us,” he said. “You can’t say she doesn’t shop locally.”

“She picked up a couple of pieces from Bobo, too.”

“Oh. What?”

“Vases, some old keys that she had framed, a couple of old weapons she had shadow-boxed. Family photographs that look interesting.”

“Stern woman with her hand on the shoulder of seated man with handlebar mustache?”

“Yeah, that kind of thing.” Chuy shrugged. “Let’s get closer.”