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“Somewhere close by. The parts can’t stray too far from the whole. The farther it goes, the weaker it gets.” I wasn’t sure what the extent of the radius was, but odds were good that the rest of Claude was somewhere in Fairhaven.
“When you say parts,” Nana Pratt began slowly, “which ones do you mean, exactly?”
“The obvious ones.”
Nana Pratt stared at the hand. “Nothing about this is obvious to me.”
“I think what Ingrid would like to know is whether we should be concerned about any dangly bits making a surprise appearance,” Ray offered.
I choked back laughter. “I don’t know. Why don’t you ask Claude?”
Ray glowered at me. “Never mind.” He hunched over like he was addressing a toddler. “Where’s your body, Claude?”
“Never mind that,” Nana Pratt interjected. “Why is it here? What does it want?”
Claude closed his fingers to form a fist.
“He’s grey rocking,” Ray informed us.
“What’s grey rocking?” Nana Pratt asked.
“It’s a tactic to minimize conflict,” Ray explained. “Make yourself as dull as a grey rock so the other party loses interest.”
I looked down at Claude. “We’re not trying to manipulate you, buddy. We’re only trying to get answers.”
“Which is perfectly reasonable, given you’ve broken into our home,” Nana Pratt added.
Ray made a noise at the back of his throat.
“Sorry,” Nana Pratt said. “I meant to say Lorelei’s home.”
The fingers sprang into action and bolted across the ground.
“Wow, it’s fast. You’d better run, or you won’t catch it,” Nana Pratt advised.
“I don’t need to chase him.” Not when I had an advantage Claude didn’t seem to know about.
Nana Pratt shuddered. “Well, do something, please. I can’t stay here knowing that thing might be sneaking around.”
“You don’t have much choice,” Ray reminded her.
“I’ll see what I can do.” I followed Claude to the front yard and heard the bushes rustle as the hand dove in.
“Come on out, Claude. I promise I won’t hurt you.”
No response.
I sat on the step and slung my arms casually over my thighs. “I’m going to assume someone sent you here for a purpose. Maybe to steal. Maybe to kill me. Here’s the skinny, though, Claude. You can’t do either.”
The bush rustled. Good. He was listening.
“My guess is you use your hand to scout and then reconnect to your body to finish whatever job you were given.” Although revenants had free will, except under certain circumstances, they were unlikely to act of their own accord. Claude wasn’t a puppet, though. More of a minion.
“You’re a revenant, Claude, which gives me certain leverage over you. Don’t make me use it.”
Silence ensued.
I waited.
