"What am I supposed to be looking at?"
"What are you supposed to... Dammit, Jason!" Kathryn stabbed a finger in Matthew's direction. "At this piece of work, naturally! What else would I ask you to look at?"
"What piece of work? The wall?"
"No! Of course not. Look at this," she said, balling her hand into a fist and pummeling Matthew's shoulder. "This, Jason. This!"
"Ouch." Matthew frowned and rubbed the spot she'd punched. "Take it easy, will you? I may not be made of flesh and blood, but that hurts."
"Well?" Kathryn demanded. "What do you see, Jason?"
"A flight of steps? A banister? A newel post?" Jason cleared his throat. "What am I supposed to be looking St? Darling, are you all right?"
Matthew snickered. He strolled back to the steps, sat down on the bottom one, and stretched out his long legs.
"Darling," he said mockingly, "are you all right?"
Kathryn shot him a furious look before swinging towards Jason.
"Try," she insisted. "Just stare at those steps and—and concentrate."
Jason stared fixedly at the staircase. Matthew smiled, leaned back on his elbows, and waited.
"Uh, maybe you could give me a hint..."
Kathryn rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "Never mind."
"Kathryn, if you'd just tell me what you think I ought to be..."
"A mouse," she said wearily. "I mean, I thought I saw a mouse..." Her eyes flashed as Matthew chuckled. "Actually, what I saw was a rat. A big one, with a long tail and twitchy whiskers."
Jason repressed a shudder. "Rats? I hate the damned things."
"The feeling," Matthew said pleasantly, "is mutual."
"How could you do this?" Kathryn hissed.
"Make myself visible only to you?" Matthew shrugged. "I told you, sweetheart, I have no idea." He grinned. "A trick of the trade, I suppose."
"Darling?"
"Don't laugh at me," Kathryn said furiously. "And don't call me that!"
"I'm not laughing," Jason said carefully. "And I won't call you darling, if you don't like it."
Kathryn swung around. Jason was looking at her as if she'd grown two heads.
"No," she said quickly, "I didn't mean..."
"Kathryn, have you been ill? Too much sun, maybe? You're not used to it, you know."
"No, I haven't been ill."
"Are you sure? Your mother said..."
He broke off in midsentence, but it was too late.
"You spoke to Beverly?"