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didn’t get drunk and stare at the painting as usual—losing himself in loss and regret—but rather, his mind was preoccupied with his visit to the lab. Having something to look forward to was a strange feeling. A feeling he had not felt in quite some time.
    A limo is picking me up!
    Chapter 4
    T he limo stopped at the gated entrance to Stone Hollow. The driver lowered his window, leaned out to type on the security keypad, and the gates opened before them. The car continued along the narrow pebble-lined driveway, curving to the left and right past rolling sand dunes covered in patches of low scrub-brush. After a few twists and turns, the driveway entered a clearing. To the left was a two-story house with an attached two-car garage. The car stopped before the house and the driver got out to open the back door. Warm air, laden with the salty thickness of the sea, rushed inside.
    Ben got out, stretching his legs and looked about. The house was rectangular, with the driveway leading to the narrow side so that the front of the house faced off to the right. This was strange, Ben thought, since he had never seen a house that faced the side of a property.
    The house was large, but not the mansion he’d envisioned when told all about Mr. Timothy Kalispell, the owner of Stone Hollow Estate. During the long drive up, Dr. Wulfric told Ben that Mr. Kalispell was a multimillionaire, perhaps billionaire, who liked to spend his money on lavishness and luxuries, and sometimes oddities and obsessions. The house Ben saw before him had maybe four bedrooms.
    “Is he home?” Ben asked Dr. Wulfric as the old doctor pulled himself out of the car.
    “Mr. Kalispell? No, he’s rarely here. This is his summer home. He brings his family here once in a while, but I haven’t heard word of him coming down.”
    Ben could smell the ocean and hear it along in with the breeze, but all he could see were the rolling sand dunes and the wild thorn bushes and trees.
    “This way, Ben.” Dr. Wulfric started walking toward the house as the limo driver drove farther up the driveway. Ben noticed that the driveway swerved past the house and disappeared around a bend. Dr. Wulfric caught Ben’s gaze and stopped, “Oh,” he said, “Were you asking if Mr. Kalispell is here—in this house?” He pointed to the two-story building, the bottom half a façade of light oval stones, the second half wood-shingled in soft blue, almost grey, with three white bay-windows facing outwards, and one large half-moon window cresting out of the roof from the attic.
    “This isn’t the house, Ben; this is the guesthouse. Rather, it was a guesthouse. Now it’s our lab. Originally it had a pool, I believe, but the pool was filled in long ago.” The doctor laughed. “No, no, Mr. Kalispell wouldn’t be here, his house is farther up the driveway.”
    They walked to a door on the side of the building. Dr. Wulfric found his keys, unlocked the door, and held it open for Ben to enter. The entryway looked more like a home than a lab, with a Persian rug on the ground and colorful sconces on the walls. The row of starched lab coats hanging on the wall contrasted with the cozy feel.
    Dr. Wulfric exchanged his jacket for a lab coat, asking Benjamin to do the same. Immediately Dr. Wulfric looked like a scientist—a stereotypical mad scientist. His white hair and beard, combined with his glasses, white shirt and tie, changed him from a gentle old man into a serious doctor.
    “Okay, Ben, this way.” Dr. Wulfric opened a second door and searched a moment for a light switch on the other side. Overhead lights flickered to life, and Ben entered the lab.
    It was a large open room with a long counter running the full length against the left wall, covered with vials full of colorful liquids and thin tubes that twisted this way and that out of glass beakers. Shelves lined the walls above and below the counter—everything neat, everything tidy, everything organized. Three tables were set in a row