Veronica had to get home in time for dinner, so as much as she wanted to join us, she agreed it would be best for Ethan to drop her off at home. Perenelle, Gwendolyn, and I would be the ones to check out the Brushstrokes and Brimstone Society.
We took Gwendolyn’s car. Hers was the least conspicuous. Not many people had the original 1960s Beetle, which I’m fairly certain the Flamels had fallen in love with for its silver paint as much as its counterculture history they’d learned about, and even fewer people had a 1940s pickup truck like mine.
As we parked on a nearby side street near the river’s waterfront, a cold rain began to fall. It already looked like it was going to be difficult to find a good spot to hide with a view of the front entrance of the museum. Now that it was raining, that would be even harder. I didn’t know if that’s where members of the Brushstrokes and Brimstone Society would enter, but the museum had closed at 5:30, so it was possible they had an after-hours meeting space here. About half a dozen cars were parked in the lot, but we hadn’t gone early enough to know if they were staff people or members of the secret society.
Perenelle grasped my arm. “There’s someone walking across the parking lot.”
The figure wore a hooded cape, only partially sheltering them from the rain that was now pelting down. I shivered under my wool sweater and silver raincoat. The crimson cape only reached their waist, and was more of a fashion statement than the type of cape I’d imagine for a secret society disguising the person underneath.
The figure crossed the deserted lot. As the wind lifted the cape and its hood, I recognized her.
Before I could think, I ran forward, calling out as I did so. “Willow?”
It was Willow Matsumoto from Renaissance White.
She turned our way. After a moment, she broke into a wide smile.
“Dr. Graves? Are you finally taking me up on my invitation to join the Brushstrokes and Brimstone Society?”