Let the Dead Sleep. Heather Graham

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СКАЧАТЬ had to keep talking. “I bought a new print last week. A Blue Dog print. I don’t know what it is, but I love them. My work’s completely different, but of course that’s true for most artists. We all have our individual visions....”

      She was speaking inanely. Anything. She refused to accept that his life was slipping away.

      And then...

      Angus Cafferty sat bolt upright, gazing at her. His snow-white hair was mussed and wild; his sky-blue eyes settled on her intently.

      “Lass, so late, too late! I should have spoken to you about this so many times, so long ago. I’d thought...I’d thought I’d wait until you got to the age of thirty, never thinking this could come so quick upon me. Just a few more years...just a few to leave you in a normal life, to know innocence—I was a fool. I have let you down, but you hear me now, Danni, please, hear me now! You mustn’t sell the shop. You must never sell the shop. It’s our lot in life, that’s what it is, and one that matters in a manner most dire. Ah, girl, what have I done? Wanting all to be safe and serene for you....” His Scottish burr, somewhat softened by his many years in the American South, was suddenly strong again. His words were filled with passion. He leaned toward her, gripping her hand so hard that it hurt, but he was alive and touching her and she couldn’t cry out.

      “No, Dad, don’t worry, I’ll never sell the store. It’s your store. You’ll get better, I can see that now. You’ll come home and—”

      “No! Ye canna sell the store! And the book, lass, you must read the book. Never doubt what you see or hear, never fear for your sanity or that of the world—turn to the book. The answers are in the book and it will bring you through heaven and hell and all realms in between. Do you hear me, lass, do you hear me? Ah, I love you, Danni, my girl, I love you so much. Cling to my words and live long but, mostly, live well. You’re brilliant and beautiful, but the world changes.... The book, Danni, read the book, and look to it in all things!”

      His grip on her hand eased; he fell back on the bed, his eyes closed and his lips silent.

      Danni jumped up and rushed to the door, her tone frantic as she called out. “Dr. Vincenzo, come quickly!”

      Vincenzo appeared in another doorway and strode down the hall toward her.

      “He spoke to me! He spoke and fell back...but he spoke!”

      Vincenzo frowned and walked over to the bed. He laid a hand on Angus’s arm, then turned to face her. “Ms. Cafferty, I know this is a difficult time... I was trying...I...” He paused and shook his head. “Ms. Cafferty, he did not speak to you. He had passed when I left this room. I wanted to give you a few minutes alone with him before having him brought down to the morgue.”

      “What?” Danni gaped at him blankly. “No, no,” she said. “My father sat up and spoke to me.”

      Vincenzo looked at her pityingly. “He’s been gone for at least thirty minutes now, Ms. Cafferty. Feel his arm. He’s growing colder already. I’m so sorry, I can see how you loved him. But he’s what...almost ninety. He had a good life. And he was certainly loved.”

      “No, no, you don’t understand. He talked to me. He sat upright and he spoke to me,” Danni protested.

      Vincenzo wasn’t going to argue with her. He pursed his lips as if forcing himself to keep silent. “Is there someone you could call to be with you?” he asked. “I can see if we have a chaplain or a priest in the hospital.”

      She frowned at him, shaking her head. “I haven’t lost my mind.”

      “He’s gone, Ms. Cafferty. I’m so sorry, but your father has passed.”

      Danni winced. She held back the tears that threatened and said with dignity, “I’m fine. I will stay with him a moment longer if that’s all right.”

      He left. She sat at her father’s side, and when she took his hand then, she knew the truth—the mighty Scot who had filled her life with love and adventure was dead. Her tears came then in a river.

      “Danni?”

      She looked up.

      Billie McDougall, tall and thin as a reed, a man who had seemed as old as her father but was twenty-odd years younger, stood in the door. He was accompanied by Jane Pearl, her father’s office manager, bookkeeper and sometime clerk. They were like family; they were her family now.

      “Come, lass,” Billie said. “Come away now. Your father was old and tired, and he needs to sleep now and rest from the weary rigors of this world. He loved you, lass, and he was loved in return, and that is the true measure of any man’s life.”

      “Danni, we’ll take you home. We’ll get you a nice cup of tea with a shot of Scotch or whiskey and it will help you through the night,” Jane said.

      Billie walked in and stood over Angus’s body, his cap in hand. “I will continue in your place, my dear friend,” he said. And, to Danni’s ears, it was like a vow.

      As if Billie, too, believed that Angus could still hear him.

      Jane set her hands on Danni’s shoulders. “Come with us now, Danni. The doctor said you’ve been with the corp—that you’ve been with your father for over an hour. It’s time to take care of yourself, as he would have wanted.”

      Jane had strong hands and arms for a woman. She could be forceful.

      Danni moved to the door. But then she turned and came back to place a kiss on her father’s forehead and laid her head against his chest as she had so many times as a little girl. “I love you,” she whispered. “I will always love you. You’ll live forever in my heart.”

      He was growing colder; he was a corpse.

      But he was her father.

      “Let’s go now,” Jane urged.

      “You will always be with me,” Danni told her father passionately as she was led out at last.

      Billie remained, looking sadly down at his mentor, his friend and boss.

      “Oh, Angus!” he said, anguish in his voice. “She doesn’t know yet, does she? I told you that you’d not live forever. Poor lass. Danni has not yet begun to know just how you will stay with her—just what you’ve left behind!”

      Chapter One

      IT WAS SPRING in New Orleans, a beautiful April day, and Angus Cafferty had been dead for three months the afternoon Michael Quinn followed the widow, Gladys Simon, to The Cheshire Cat, an antiques and curio store on Royal Street.

      The house itself, now a shop, was one of the few buildings that had survived the Great New Orleans Fire of 1788 that had destroyed 856 buildings—followed by the fire of 1794 that destroyed another 212. It was one of the only structures from the mid-1700s that remained on Royal Street. It had a two-storied facade, with an inner courtyard and balconies surrounding the building streetside. He knew the layout of the old building; the original parlor, study and dining rooms were set up as the shop’s display area, while the old pantry was Danielle Cafferty’s studio. The basement was not really a basement at all. This was New Orleans, and even on high ground, the basement was just the lowest level of the house. Six steps led up from СКАЧАТЬ