Page 77 of The House on Prytania
I followed him to the other end of the attic, to what appeared to be a wooden ramp with boards nailed horizontally every two feet.
“Careful,” Beau said. “This is above the sloped ceiling at the end of the hallway. Whoever put this here couldn’t figure out how to put in another set of stairs, so he did this instead. Pretty smart, I think. Just make sure you grip the boards with your feet so you don’t slip.”
He indicated a finished plaster wall facing the end of the ramp without any space in between. I leaned in to see, from the other side of the wall, a faint light outlining a door.
Beau gently pushed on the wall at the center of the door’s outline. I heard a very softclickas that portion of the wall gently swung out toward us. He stepped inside and I followed him into the attic recording studio. I turned just as Beau shut the wall panel, leaving no evidence of its existence.
“I feel like we’re definitely in a Nancy Drew novel,” I said.
“Except the ghosts are real.” He wasn’t smiling as he pulled out Sam’s desk chair for me, then sat down in his own. “I thought we should talk before this weekend.”
“I’m not going to blurt out my questions about Sunny’s kidnapping, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’ll be a lot more subtle. I’ll keep my eyes and ears open, and ask questions when appropriate.”
“Well, then,” Beau said, leaning back in his chair. “It seems like you’ve already given this some thought.”
“Of course I have. Every single minute I’m with Michael is a lie, and I’d rather not make the process last longer than necessary.”
“Why? You still have feelings for him?”
“Whether I do or not, I don’t like lying to him. Or anyone. It makes me feel... dirty. Dishonest. I’ve been accused of lots of things, but neither one of those, nor am I wanting to start.”
“Fair point. I just need to make sure I know where we stand. Soif you do turn up anything, I can trust that you will tell me. Everything.”
I kept my eyes on him, remembering to keep my breathing steady—my dad had told me that uneven breathing was a big “tell” when determining whether someone was lying. I couldn’t tell Beau about my deal with Sunny and Sam, or that any withholding of facts would not be due to any residual feelings I might or might not have for Michael.
“Of course,” I said. “I don’t have any loyalty to Michael.” At least that part was true. Eager to change topics, I asked, “Have you ever visited the Broussard mausoleum?”
“Do you really think I’d voluntarily visit a cemetery?”
“That’s what I figured. But when we were playing tourists the other day at St. Louis Number One, Sarah was led to the Broussard tomb.”
“Who led her?”
“Initially your mother. Adele appeared to Sarah when we were visiting the Our Lady of Guadalupe Church and told her to go to St. Louis Number One. While we were there, a young girl brought Sarah right to the Broussard mausoleum.”
“Who was the little girl?”
“We don’t know. She wasn’t there when I found Sarah. But whoever she was, she wanted us to see it. The mausoleum is where Jeanne’s remains are mixed with those of her murderer and her molester. I’d haunt whoever would listen if I were her, so I’m not going to blame her for sticking around, even if it was at my house. I’m glad she’s found peace and I hope she stays there. Because whatever is there now scares me.”
“It’s Antoine Broussard. I’m sure of it.”
“Me, too. I’d like to know why he’s suddenly appeared.”
Beau looked at me with worried eyes and an expression I’d never seen on his face before. I leaned toward him, careful to keep any accusation from my voice. “You’re afraid to face him, aren’t you? Because he’s much stronger than Jeanne and your grandfather.”
Beau banged his hands on the desk and stood. “Of course I am.I’m petrified. I have no idea what I’m doing, and if I open another door and can’t close it, then we’re all in trouble. Especially...”
“Especially what?” The words he’d spoken to his mother on the phone that night in my apartment reverberated in my mind.She’s dangerous. I can’t afford to lose my focus. I can’t ever let that happen again.I stepped back, sucking in my breath. “It was me, wasn’t it? We let him through when we sent Jeanne and your grandfather into the light.”
He didn’t answer because he didn’t need to.
“So that day at Mardi’s gotcha party, when you said we made a great team, you were lying?”
“No. I believed it then. I thought everything had gone as planned. And then...”
“And then Antoine made his presence known in my house, and I’m scared to be there alone. We’re going to have to do something.”
He looked at me in the dim light as if daring me to say what we were both thinking. “You need to ask your mother for help. You were a little boy when she disappeared. Maybe it’s time you looked at your relationship with her from a new perspective. Maybe find a way to forgive her for something she might not even know she did.”
