Page 213 of The Seven Rings
“All those years in service here,” Sonya murmured. “I think the Pooles were good people to work for. We’ll clean up the frame. It’ll go in the gallery.”
Owen crouched down to examine the drawer. “I can fix this. Hell, Trey, you could fix this.”
“Sounds like damning with faint praise to me. It looks like a nice piece, though.”
“Walnut, probably from the same era as that photo.”
“And since it’s here, it was probably in the servants’ quarters, the men’s section.”
“Most of those rooms came down for the gym, the theater,” Trey told her. “I can’t see you needing bedrooms here.”
“Nope, this whole floor is fun and entertainment. Possibly a place for it on the third floor at some point. Unless you can use it, Owen.”
“No, I… Well.”
“Hesitation is assent!” Sonya wroteOwenon a sticky note, slapped it on the dresser.
In the hunt, they found a collection of crocheted doilies, table runners.
“Beautiful work.” Cleo unfolded piece by piece. “Son, we could frame some of these. You want to pay homage. Since they’re down here, I think it’s a safe bet someone on staff crocheted these.”
“I love it. God knows we’ll have plenty of wall space down here once it’s fixed up.”
“Yarn, thread, whatever it is for making that stuff’s in here. With the needles.”
“Hooks,” Cleo corrected Trey. “I feel a display coming on.”
“A craft or sewing spot, yes. For display, since we don’t sew or craft.” Sonya took a large spool of crochet yarn from Trey. “Just an area of interest, a display cabinet or bookcase.”
“You’d want this in there.” Owen gestured. “It’s a sewing machine thing.”
“Would you look at that! It’s got a big iron pedal thing. You had to pedal the sewing machine. Oh, and it’s a really pretty table. The machine lowers into the table! How cool is that? I wonder if it still works.”
Intrigued, she dragged over a chair, sat. And pushed down the iron pedal.
The needle pumped up and down with a clackety-clack.
With a laugh, Sonya eased off the pedal, leaned in. “We could figure out how to thread it. Maybe even find a manual around here. Set it up, a piece of fabric under here.”
As she started to slide her hand toward the needle, something shoved the pedal down. She barely snatched her hand away before the needle stabbed her.
Trey grabbed her shoulders, pulled her back and up as Clover played “Evil Woman.”
“It didn’t get me. You missed, you vicious bitch! I’m fine. I’m okay.”
The needle pumped up and down faster and faster until it blurred. Then stopped.
The bell rang.
Saying nothing, Trey took Sonya’s uninjured hand to his lips.
“We’re going to do just what we said.” She needed a breath to steady herself. “Frame some of the crochet work, make a display, use the adorable old sewing machine. And, um, whew. We’re bound to find some old cooking tools down here, stuff from the old kitchen. We’ll do a display there, too.”
“They’d have had offices down here, wouldn’t they?” Cleo wondered. “The head housekeeper, butler. They were in charge of the staff, so they’d have needed office space.”
“Desk and chair over that way.” Owen pointed. “The chair’s a beauty. Solid oak, swivel chair. Not a squeak.”
“Desk, chair, maybe an inkwell if you want real old-timey,” Trey suggested. “One of those seals for wax.”
