Gathering Deep
said, flashing her a smile. Then his eyes met mine, and the smile dimmed.
    â€œByron?”
    â€œNo, ma’am, but thank you. I’ll just be getting these artifacts back,” he said, reaching for the book.
    â€œOh, I can bring them later,” Dr. Aimes said, still studying the book with a resolute intensity.
    Byron scowled. “I think it’s best if I take them to the office, where I can secure them,” he said, determined.
    Dr. Aimes looked up, clearly irritated. “Byron, I understand that you worked for the last owner, but I’m the director of the project now. The house and its contents are my responsibility. Not yours.”
    â€œYou might be director, but I’m in charge of the artifacts,” Byron shot back darkly. “Anything happens to them, and it’s my ass on the line.”
    â€œI’ll walk them over later tonight,” Dr. Aimes said. His tone was so stark that it was clear the decision was final.
    â€œI really think we need to follow protocol on this … ”
    â€œAre you implying that I don’t know how to handle artifacts?” Dr. Aimes asked. I’d never heard his voice go steely like that.
    See, Lucy’s dad is all gangly limbs and tufts of hair sticking out at odd angles, and he has a way about him that makes you think of a snug corner in an old library when he speaks. Like there’s book dust in his voice. He’d brought his whole family to Louisiana because restoring Le Ciel was his dream, and his family loved him enough not to hate him for it. But glaring at Byron like he was, I saw a side of him I hadn’t noticed before.
    For a moment, Byron looked like he wanted to argue, but he didn’t. He glared at Dr. Aimes before he sullenly took his leave, looking back more than once before he finally left the parlor.
    Dr. Aimes took a moment longer to look over the book before he set the two artifacts back into the crate reluctantly.
    â€œOh, Piers,” Dr. Aimes said, his voice back to its usual softness and his expression relaxed. “Hold on. There’s one other thing I wanted to talk to you about … Let me just grab it.” He stood abruptly and disappeared into another room.
    â€œAre you okay?” Piers asked Lucy. “For a second there, you looked like you were about to fall over.”
    Lucy’s cheeked flushed in embarrassment. “The picture took me off guard.”
    â€œThey seem to have a tendency to do that with you,” Piers said with a smirk. “Strange for a photographer … ” he teased.
    Lucy slapped his arm. “Shut up. You know why I fainted the last time.”
    Earlier in the summer, Lucy and Piers had been with Dr. Aimes when he’d found a daguerreotype of Armantine Lyon, the girl Lucy had dreamed she was in a past lifetime. The unexpected sight of seeing Armantine’s face in her waking hours had made her faint dead away. I hadn’t realized back then what was happening to Lucy—or to me—so I’d teased her about it mercilessly.
    â€œI remember what Josephine Dutilette was like to Armantine,” Lucy went on. “When I saw Josephine’s eyes staring up at me … ” She shuddered. “Let’s just say, that woman was a piece of work. I don’t have any desire to ever run into her again, not in any lifetime.”
    Lucy’s father returned a moment later with a foam cube. He set it on the coffee table between us and opened it. Inside was a small, dark piece of wood that at first looked like a misshapen star. Then I realized it was a carved doll of some sort that had a bit of ancient-looking, rust-colored thread wound about its body.
    â€œYou still have that thing?” Lucy sounded horrified.
    â€œOf course,” Dr. Aimes replied. “After we recovered it from Thisbe’s cabin, we cataloged it, same as the other artifacts.”
    The University of New Orleans, which owned the plantation and ran its

Similar Books

The Wind From the East

Almudena Grandes

PeakExperience

Rachel Kenley

Kissed by Moonlight

Shéa MacLeod