The warm fog from the night before lifted and vanished, and the August heat felt heavy. As expected, the sun became fully alive, blistering around the estate at nine o’clock the next morning. In fact, everything bubbled hot, climbing well above average temperatures for August; a painful summer day next to Lake Erie.
The forecast called for a thunderstorm later in the afternoon, which would probably cause a tempest on the lake. I was concerned about high winds and a steady downpour but, truth said, I had something else to worry about in the meantime. I knocked on Tacoma’s door with a hard fist, turned its brass knob, found that it was locked, and called out in an irate tone, “Tacoma, I need to speak with you! Now!”
I heard nothing inside the room except silence. No young man rolling aroun
