Hours later, Sonny takes the load of books out of Abi's arms, then gives her a peck on the cheek. "You didn't have to do all this just to grab these for me. I could've come to you, saved you the trouble."

"I don't mind. I wasn't going in anyway, and had time to kill. And truthfully…" She takes a slow breath, then turns around in a circle. "I wanted to prove to myself I wasn't just gonna run and hide when I came back here."

"How are you, by the way?"

"I'm okay." She lets out another slow breath, before nodding maybe a little too vigorously. "I'm just fine." Then she frowns as the dark circles under Sonny's eyes. "You, however, look like you're about to keel over."

"Haven't been sleeping too good." But Sonny doesn't want to talk about his dreams, or the sleepwalking. Or the sounds that keep waking him up in the middle of the night. "Come into the kitchen so I can stroke my ego. I've got some lemonade--not freshly squeezed, but it's cold and refreshing."

"Okay." She touches his arm in silent acknowledgement, and because she knows what he really means, lightens up. "Only have about half an hour, but I have some interesting information. Both informative, and speculative. What's up with that?"

She looks into the smoking room, where there's papers stacked all over the floor, books left open, piles of paint and fabric samples.

"New project. Thought I'd start on a room people can actually sit in when it's finished. What kind of info did you get for me?"

"The Hortons and DiMeras. Which was easy enough to track down." she says as they keep walking through the house. "Gino DiMera married Adelaide Horton. Both come from well respected families. Gino was the CEO and founder of DiMera Enterprises, which he was planning on passing down to one of his sons. It's rumored they were known for using their money to buy power and influence in this town. Oh my God, Sonny!"

She walks into the kitchen, beaming at the base cabinets he's installed. "They're beautiful!"

Sonny sticks his hands into his back pockets, giving her a crooked smile, "Why do you sound so surprised?"

"Because I am. In the best most flattering way. Chad can't even hammer a nail to hang a painting." She runs a hand over the wood, testing the door by opening and closing it. "These are really impressive. You should be so proud of yourself."

"I'm definitely pleased with the results. The guys that did the counters just left. I'm going with a solid surface. It's gonna look like granite. Ordered this huge fridge-- for reasons even I can't even justify-- and a stove and dishwasher. I'm gonna make all the panels so you can see the wood."

Sonny puts the books on a sheet of plywood he has over the top of the cabinets. "Want that lemonade now?"

"I'd like that." She walks into the dining room behind him. He already has two of the top cabinets finished, and already starting on a third. "These are going to be so beautiful. You have to be working day and night."

And losing a lot of weight, Abi thinks. Which is starting to show on your face.

"I'll take that over sleepwalking any day." He's jittery, finding himself tucking his hands back into his pockets to stop them from shaking. "Tell me more about the history."

"Okay." Abi has to fight the urge to worry over him and goes back to her information. "The original owners lost most of their money during World War One. They managed to hang in there, selling off pieces of their land, or renting to farmers. Theirs and the Horton/DiMeras' political views were on opposite ends. There was some sort of fire, that succeeded in burning the whole place to the ground. Wiped everyone out. The Horton/DiMeras bought it, and had this place built on top of it. Both already had a son from previous marriages, Tom and Santo. Both went to Rosalind Franklin, where Tom did very well, and Santo's major might as well have been drinking and screwing. Tom was the heir, and was meant to take over as CEO of DiMera Enterprises. Most of the DiMera's money was gone, but Adelaide had a trust fund. Both Tom and Santo died before they turned 24."

Sonny hands her a glass, "How?"

"This is where we wander into the rumors and speculation." Abi sips her drink. "The most popular one is they killed each other. Nobody knows why, ony that it was a family squabble that turned sour. It's said Tom went to Chicago, under his mother's orders, to retrieve his step-brother from one of the whore houses he was known for frequenting. Santo didn't want to be retrieved, they fought, and one of them--my money's on Santo-- pulled a knife. They fought over the knife, both got hurt, and Tom died. Santo stuck around for another week, then somehow got up out of bed, came outside, fell into the pond and drowned."

The pond, Sonny thinks, covered in lily pads, giving off mist in the early morning. "God, those poor parents."

"Gino's heart gave out a few years later. Adelaide went on to live for several years after that, but her financial luck finally ran out. She still had the house, along with some of the land, but she was as good as broke. Again, there's more speculation Santo bled her dry with his drinking and screwing, and could never get it back."

"Chad said there was a grandson. Tom or Santo's?"

"That's even more speculation. The records indicated Tom married an Alice Grayson in 1940, and a son was born a year later, there's no record of Alice's death. After Tom died, the Hortons/DiMeras legally disowned the grandson. Wrote him right out of the will. Apparently he was raised by the Graysons. I couldn't find anything on Alice Grayson besides her birth and wedding certificates."

"Maybe they threw her out when Tom died."

"Could be. I talked to Chad about it." She wanders by the windows, looking out at the trashed gardens. "He was a bit vague, but swears he remembers hearing rumors about her running off with another man."

Abi turns back around. "The stories on the Grayson side are quite different. They claim there was foul play at work. You might get a better picture of her, and what probably happened, if you talked to the Graysons or the Hortons."

"A better picture of a woman who may or may not have run off or passed away several decades ago."

"Sonny, come on. This is Salem. Several decades ago might as well have been a week ago. She was barely of age when she married Tom. She was a Grayson. His family never would've approved of their relationship. I highly doubt her life here was anything to brag about. Who says she didn't run off? Then again...I did see something, or someone upstairs, in that room. I don't even believe in ghosts. Or didn't." Abi fights off a shudder. "I still don't know what to believe now, but I sure as hell am going to find out."

"I'll ask Marlena. And Will. I'm going out with him on Monday.

"Oh really?" Just the suggestion makes her whole face light up. "Looks like we're about to hear more rumors and speculation." She hands him her glass. "I have to get going. I'll send Chad out here tomorrow morning to help you out and stop him from driving me insane. I have a ftting for my wedding dress, as well as other wedding details."

"I'll definitely keep him busy."

"Come into town with him." Abi suggests as she gets ready to leave. She wants nothing more than to grab Sonny and and drag him out by force, get him away from here. "We can go out to eat, see a movie."

"You don't need to worry about me, Abi."

"I can't help it! I keep thinking about you all the way out here, in this house by yourself, with that room upstairs." She steals an uneasy glance up the stairs. "Makes my skin crawl."

"Ghosts can't hurt me." Sonny kisses her cheek. "They're already dead."

But that night, by the sound of the rain and wind, and even with the protection of the holy water, they definitely didn't feel already dead.

He lets himself have Sunday off. Sleeping late, waking up to a sky trying to clear, and spent an extra hour in bed with the books Abi gave him.

She'd marked aged she thought would appeal to him the most. He scans and studies the old photos of the town's mansions. A thrill rushes through him as he looks at the old black and white picture of the DiMera mansion in its glory days.

The formal photos of Gino DiMera and Adelaide Horton did not get the same reaction. Only mild curiosity was to be found with them. The woman was definitely beautiful, very up with the times in the 40s with her ball gown, paired with the combs in her hair.

The gown, tucked into such a tiny waist, made her look so delicate, highlighted by the skirt of her dress, as well as the sleeves that went perfectly with the gloves.

But her eyes are cold, the kind of coldness Sonny's almost positive wasn't because of the way she's posed, or the bad quality of the photograph. It overshadows her delicacy, making her look dangerous.

But it's the picture of Thomas Horton that stops him cold.

He knows that face, from his dream. The handsome young man with the dark hair, coming out of a car coming up the driveway.

Power of suggestion? Was he just hoping the person he saw was real, and now he's just seeing it in Tom's face?

Regardless, it succeeds in creeping him the hell out.

He decides to drive into Chicago, treating himself to a few hours of antiquing.

Which would be great, if he hadn't given up an hour later and instead found himself walking into Doug's Place.