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Aleksy was at the counter, arranging things. This was his usual pattern: he'd arrange flowers in the evenings, and then chuck them in the fridge until the delivery girl came back around. That way he only had to deal with her once, and then he could have a lot of free time to himself until dinner.

He didn't, generally speaking, expect cops to come into his place of business. Aleksy relaxed when he saw it was only Detective Mercer; the gray-haired man had seemed friendly enough, if acerbic. (Aleksy appreciated fellow sarcastic people. It was a skill, and an undervalued one.) In his hand was a slim, wrapped bundle, and on his face...

Aleksy's eyes widened, just for a moment. Then he pulled himself back together. "You've met Sunny, then?"

Aleksy shrugged, forcing himself to be as casual as he could. No one would believe him if he actually explained how those who'd had contact with other ashdown appeared. Did you know your eyes are black pits never went over well, not that Aleksy had ever said it. The more they explored the other place, the more inhuman they looked. Some were beautiful; others, terrifying.

"A lucky guess," said Aleksy, poking through the wrapping of the flower. A calla lily, white. He looked up and smiled (with a reassuringly normal amount of teeth). "I was a child here in Ashdown. She was around even then. There aren't many of us who didn't see her... I think she likes teenagers better than adults."

Easy enough. Aleksy put the arrangement he'd been working on in the glass-fronted fridge behind him and shut off the interior lights. They were slightly distracting, to be honest. "She lives up at the far end of Waite State Forest," said Aleksy. "According to rumor. There's an old house there that nobody owns."

He flipped open the green account book on the counter. "Calla lilies... it was either for Adoelle Nashua from her elder sister or..." He folded that page in half again (bills paid, why bother looking at it again) "No, that's it. There were arrangements with calla lilies... But only the one that was just calla lilies."

Aleksy closed the book. "Did you ask her to tell your future?"

"That's what the rumors say. A pack of smokes and a favor. My boyfriend does them for her all the time." Aleksy tapped his pen on the cover of his book. "Yes, her sister. Jay."

He shook his head. "But you did make a deal with her?"

Aleksy sat back on his stool, evaluating. "He takes her cigarettes every couple of weeks. She likes cloves--the ones that're illegal. Finn never runs out of gas, so--he goes down to Connecticut every few weeks to keep her from wandering down there herself."

Not that there was really any reason to doubt that Sunny could just magic herself up a pack if she wanted.

"I'm sure you have more questions," said Aleksy.

Aleksy understood that. No one wanted to be seen as crazy. "It's close enough to closing time." He rose from his stool and shut the blinds, flipped the sign, locked the door. With a gesture to Jeremiah to follow, Aleksy stepped into the back room.

It was a riot of flowers: carnations, lilies, roses, all of them still budding--the better for them to last--and all of them in anticipation of the coming holiday. Around Easter, the churches liked to have greenery, all of it white or pink or yellow. Aleksy had more orders than he could shake a stick at, but there was still an open table and two wooden Shaker-style chairs. He flopped down in one of them, slouching comfortably.

"Ask away," he said.

Aleksy shook his head. "Nothing I hadn't seen already."

He twirled a finger in his long bangs, examining the color. In the mirror, Aleksy looked normal enough; he supposed that was the down side to the Sight, that he could only see the other ashdown's effects on other people. "Can I be candid with you?"

Without waiting for Jeremiah's answer, Aleksy said, "If you can, you should stay the ******** away from her. She plays at being human because she thinks it's funny. And being around her only makes us more like her, it doesn't make her better, it doesn't cause her to, to think of us as people--we're toys." He scowled, blackly. "Before I met Sunny, I couldn't..."

He got up and pulled an empty coffee pot from the percolator, set it down between himself and Jeremiah. "Is this empty?"

It was clear glass, is what it was, stained from long use. And it was completely, absolutely empty.