CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND THREE - BED-AND-BREAKFAST BLUES

Mason chuckled, carefully transferring Henry to the portable crib they'd set up. "Come on, it has a certain charm. Like staying in a museum... if the museum had been curated by your great-aunt Edna after one too many sherries." Claire was about to retort when a plaintive wail erupted from the crib. Henry, it seemed, was awake and not at all pleased with his surroundings. "Oh, sweetie," Claire cooed, scooping him up. "Are those teeth bothering you again?" Henry's response was to grab a fistful of Claire's hair and stuff it in his mouth, gnawing furiously. "I'll take that as a yes," she sighed, gently extricating her locks from his grasp. Mason rummaged through their bags, producing a teething ring. "Here, little man. Chew on this instead of Mommy's hair, okay?" For a blissful moment, Henry seemed content with the substitute. Then, without warning, he flung the ring across the room, narrowly missing the portrait of the stern woman. The ensuing wail was loud enough to wake the dead