Part 28 (2/2)
”So you say. Me, I learn a lullaby or two. And now, what happens? To me?”
Claire frowned, uncertain of what he meant. ”Nothing happens to you. She can't do anything while she's asleep or she'd have done something by now.”
”Je ne demande pas ce qu'elle peut faire a moi?” Agitation threw him back into French. ”I know what she can do to me.” He raised both hands and made a visible effort to calm down. ”I am asking what do you do now with me.”
”What do I do?” He was persistent, she'd give him that. ”Nothing.”
”Nothing happens to me for years.” Jacques lay down again and flung an arm up over his eyes.
”Could you please reattach that? It looks disgusting.”
Jacques sighed but complied. ”At least will you visit?”
”When I can.”
”Ah, you have no time because you must guard the place where evil can enter the world?”
”I'm working at sealing the hole.”
”And when the hole is sealed?”
”Then I'll move on.”
Opening one eye, he peered up at her. ”Will you bring back my table?”
”No. You don't need it.” When he began a sorrowful protest, Claire cut him off. ”You began haunting the attic when Augustus Smythe moved the furniture up from the room you died in, right?”
”Oui.”
She chewed on a corner of her lower lip. ”Did he know you were there?”
”He knew. He did not care.” Jacques rolled back up onto his side. Misery made his eyes surprisingly dark. ”For so many years with no one who cared; do you know, cherie, I think that is worse than h.e.l.l.”
Which explained why there was no response from the bas.e.m.e.nt. h.e.l.l appreciated pain. ”I have an idea.”
Something heavy hit the floor in the room above the dining room. Dean and Austin stared at the ceiling.
”What do think she's doing up there?”
”She's still in the attic,” Austin told him. ”And so the question becomes, what's she doing up there?”
Dean leaned into his polis.h.i.+ng cloth with a certain amount of violent activity. ”Finding antiques.”
”I'm amazed you left them up there together.” The cat flopped down on the polished end of the table and stretched to his full length. ”A woman. A man. Didn't you say he was a sailor? You know what they say about sailors.”
”They don't say it about dead sailors.” He peered sideways at the cat. ”Austin, can I ask you a personal question? Were you castrated?”
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