The next morning’s discussions seemed to focus on two major issues, doorknobs and orange dresses.

     “So who opened the door of the orange house?” I asked the group.

     “I did.” Tracy held up her hand.

     “What were you thinking about when you turned the knob?” As I asked the question Marco’s face changed.

     “You’re right.” Marco half gasped.

     “What?” Brian interjected and turned his head towards Marco.

     “When I reached for the door here to come in, I was hoping against hope it was before five yesterday. Because we would all loose our jobs.” Marco looked at Tracy. “What were you thinking about?”

     Tracy tried very hard to recall what she was thinking, “It had been a scary night, all I could think about was going home.” Tracy shrugged and shook her head, she simply couldn’t remember what she had been thinking exactly.

     “So it seems the doorknob works on a thought principle.” Brian concluded. “I wonder if it works both ways.”, he stood up and walked to the door. “A candy shop should be agreeable with everyone.” he closed his eyes and concentrated, then pulled on the door.

     The door remained shut, as if someone had welded it from the outside. The knob would turn, and the locks would latch and unlatch, but the door would not open. One by one each member of the R.S.A. tried the door, but it would not open.

     After I tried the door unsuccessfully I blurted out, “Well, I guess there goes that theory. So what about Sarah, and the ghost in the orange dress?”

     “I don’t remember anything.” Sarah demanded. “I walked out of the door, I was daydreaming. I don’t remember anything that happened outside my daydream.”

     “And what did happen, in your daydream?” Marco asked.

     “I was riding a unicorn to a stable, far far away.” Sarah’s voice trailed off, as she began to give details of a meadow and a lake. Some fantasy about a picnic lunch with a griffon under a cherry tree, and ending with cherry pie and a ride back to the orange house on the unicorn.

     By the time Sarah had finished her tale, it was past noon.

     Various sandwiches laid out on the coffee table in front of the fireplace, with varying juices. After the children had eaten, I paid them and sent them home.

     They walked out the back door, and my attention now turned to the front. It was three o’clock, I had two hours to explore for myself and find a watch. Perhaps easing Tabitha’s anger a little in the process.

     I grabbed the keys off the wall, and stepped through the front door.

     Cynthia Perking stood right outside the door, looking up at me as if the ‘gig was up’.

     “Hello Cynthia.” I locked the front door with the key I still held in my hand.

     Dressed in Easter pink, she couldn’t have been more picture perfect if she tried. “This shop is your shop. My mother sent me to bring you for tea, wait till she finds out.”

     The white carriage with gold trim pulled up beside us, the footman dressed in gray held open the door, I got in after Cynthia. The inside of the carriage was plush, pillows and cushioned lining, all in the same Easter pink. She smiled sweetly at me as the carriage door swung shut.

     After we began moving Cynthia started talking, “I know that group came out of your store. Those… stupid people.”

     “Stupid people”, I shook my head at her. “There’s a big difference between ignorance and stupidity.”

     Cynthia narrowed her eyes a bit, she did not like being corrected, or interrupted. “Ok then, you tell the story.”

     “What story is there to tell?” I looked at her.

     She crossed her arms and was quiet the rest of the short ride up to Perking Manor.

     The butler led us into the room where Lacy Perking sat, everything was already out and ready.

     The clocked chimed three.

     I jerked quickly around to the mantle clock to check the time, there were fourteen hours on the face. The fireplace and mantle were both made of marble with gold veins, the fireplace tools and screen were of light polished brass. The walls were a light beige color, but you could barely see them, with white painted wood from the chair railing to the floor. Paintings took up most of the wall space, all relatives throughout the centuries.

     “Do sit down.” Lacy’s voice was neither calm nor soothing. On the outside she looked as Cynthia did, picture perfect. However, her voice was shrill and high.

     Mrs. Perking was seated on the chair adjacent the love-seat, the entire set matched the beige in the walls. In front of the love-seat was a coffee table, and an identical love-seat facing it.

     I sat down, with Cynthia sitting across from me.

     “Mother,” Cynthia began. “She owns the Hauntch Shop.” Cynthia then sat back and waited for the trouble to begin.

     “Do not be so pertinent, Cynthia.” Mrs. Perking reprimanded her. Lacy smiled towards me, and her voice grew softer. “One must have grace and charm, approaching conversational subjects in an easing and delightful manner.” A maid entered the room and began pouring the tea. As I was handed my cup and saucer, Mrs. Perking ended her scolding to her daughter. “One only attacks their enemy in battle.” Mrs. Perking again smiled in my direction, as if I couldn’t have heard her.

     “It is true though.” I said after a sip of warm tea. “And I must add this is wonderful tea.” It was a nice sweet blend, neither bitter nor harsh. It didn’t hold any of the heaviness of English, or Indian tea. It was almost like walking through a citrus orchard while the trees are in full bloom.

     “Yes this is a special blend.”, Mrs Perking rose quickly. “Dear Husband, I hope all is fair and well.”

     My attention snapped to a man dressed in a brown suit and matching bowler hat. He had sharp features, a square chiseled chin and deep darting brown eyes. His black hair was slicked back under his hat.

     “This is..” his wife began to introduce me.

     “Miss Julia Deardhorn.” Mr. Perking’s voice was deep and calm. His hands remained behind his back the whole time he stood in the doorway to the sitting room. “Proprietor of the Hauntch Store, if I’m not mistaken.”

     “You are not.” I set my saucer and cup down on the coffee table.

     “Perhaps you would be so kind as to stay for dinner?” he raised an eyebrow at me. “We have many issues to discuss.”

     “Of course.” I nodded at him.