Midnight Bayou

the gallery, opened the door of his bedroom, and went back inside.
    “S leepwalking?” Remy scooped up another forkful of rice.
    “Yeah. I went through it for about six months when I was around eleven.” Declan shrugged, but couldn’t quite dismiss the weight of it.
    He hadn’t meant to bring it up, at least no more than in passing. The dinner Effie had fixed in Remy’s Garden District apartment was welcome, as was the company. But somehow he’d gone from telling them about the progress of the rehab to his nighttime adventures.
    “It must be terrifying,” Effie said, “to wake up and find yourself somewhere else.”
    “Spooky anyway. It’s funny I’d end up in the two rooms that make me the most uneasy. Or, I guess it’s logical. Some subconscious deal.”
    “As long as you stay inside the house,” Remy put in. “I don’t want to hear you’ve sleepwalked your way into the swamp.”
    “That’s a nice thought. Thanks.”
    “Remy.” Effie slapped his hand. “I think you should see a doctor,” she told Declan. “You could take something to help you sleep better.”
    “Maybe. Been there a week, and it’s only happened twice. Anyway, taking a couple of tranqs isn’t going to do anything about the ghost.”
    “It’s just drafts and old wood settling.”
    Remy grinned. “Effie doesn’t believe in ghosts.”
    “Or in tarot cards or reading tea leaves or any such nonsense.” Her voice was prim, and just a little defensive.
    “My girl, she’s very grounded in the here and the now.”
    “Your girl just has good sense,” she shot back. “Dec, it just stands to reason you’d have some strange feelings, staying way out there in that big old house all alone. And I bet you’re not eating right, either. You ought to live here with Remy for a while, until you get used to things.”
    “She won’t.” Remy jerked his head in Effie’s direction.
    “I’ll live with you when we’re married, and not before.”
    “Oh, but, chère. May’s so far away. I miss you when you’re not here.” He took her hand, kissing it lavishly as he spoke.
    “Tell you what, Effie, you come out and stay with me for a few nights. Strictly platonic,” he said with a grin as Remy narrowed his eyes. “I bet you shift your stand on ghosts after one or two nights.”
    “Sorry. I’m a city girl. What do you do out there all by yourself, Declan, when you’re not working?”
    “Read. And speaking of that, I need to come by the library, see if you can help me dig up more about Manet Hall. I’ve been taking a few whacks at the garden, too. Take walks. Drove over to visit Miss Odette.”
    “You met Miss Odette?” Remy asked as he polished off his dinner. “Something, isn’t she?”
    “I really liked her. Truth is, the house is keeping me so busy I usually drop off by ten at night. I finally got a TV hooked up, and I never think to turn it on. But I did buy a table and chairs this afternoon, and some other things.”
    It was always a mistake, he chided himself, to let him through the door of an antique shop.
    “We’re not going to have you locking yourself out there and working yourself to the bone,” Effie decided. “I expect you to come into town and see us at least once a week from now on. And Remy, you should start going out there on Saturdays and giving Dec a hand. Spending too much time alone,” she declared as she pushed back from the table. “That’s what’s wrong with you. Now, y’all ready for pie?”
    M aybe she was right, Declan thought as he hunted up a place to park. If she wasn’t right, Effie was certainlydefinite. He’d try mixing it up a little more. He could drive into town once or twice a week for a real meal. Maybe have Remy and Effie out for one—a very informal one.
    He could spend an evening reading something other than research.
    More, he thought. He was going to gear himself up soon and push himself through the mental block he’d erected about the third-floor room.
    He had to park a block and a half from Et Trois, but when he stepped in, saw Lena at the bar, he thought the walk had been worth it.
    He couldn’t even snag a stool tonight, but he did manage to squeeze between customers and claim a corner of the bar. The music was loud and lively, and so was the crowd.
    There was a blond behind the bar tonight in addition to its owner and Dreadlock Guy. Each of them was hopping.
    Lena flicked him a glance as she served two drafts and a gin fizz.
    “Corona?”
    “Better make