“He’d have to leave Bon Temps,” I said sharply.

“That wouldn’t suit you, would it?” Claude looked thoughtful in a way that made me distinctly uneasy.

“He’s my best friend,” I said. “You know that.” Maybe that was the first time I had said that aloud, but I guess I’d known it for quite a while. “Oh, by the way, if you want to know what happened to Cait, you might try contacting a human guy with gray eyes who works at Vampire’s Kiss. The name on his uniform was Colton.” I knew some places just handed out name tags every night, without any worries about who actually owned the name. But at least it was a start. I started back to the kitchen.

“Wait,” Dermot said, so abruptly that I turned my head to look at him. “When are the antiques people coming to look at your junk?”

“Should be here in a couple hours.”

Dermot said, “The attic is more or less empty. Didn’t you plan to clean it?”

“That’s what I was thinking of doing this morning.”

“Do you want us to help?” Dermot asked.

Claude was clearly appalled. He glared at Dermot.

We were back on more familiar ground, and I, for one, was grateful. Until I’d had a chance to think all this new information through, I couldn’t even guess at the right questions to ask. “Thanks,” I said. “It would be great if you could carry up one of the big garbage cans. Then after I sweep and pick up all the bits and pieces, you could tote it down.” Having relatives who are superhumanly strong can be very handy.

I went to the back porch to gather up my cleaning supplies, and when I trudged upstairs with laden arms, I saw that Claude’s door was closed. My previous tenant, Amelia, had turned one upstairs bedroom into a pretty little boudoir with a cheap (but cute) dressing table, chest of drawers, and bed. Amelia had used another bedroom as her living room, complete with two comfortable chairs, a television, and a large desk, which now stood empty. The day we’d cleaned out the attic, I’d noticed that Dermot had set up a cot in the former living room.

Before I’d had time to say “Jack Robinson,” Dermot appeared at the attic door carrying the garbage can. He set it down and looked around him. “I think it looked better with the family things in it,” he said, and I had to agree. In the daylight streaming through the filthy windows, the attic looked sad and shabby.