Dark Carousel (Dark #30) - Christine Feehan Page 0,60
owners over the years have been murdered? You can discount an illness, because everyone gets exposed to germs, but murdered with throats torn out and drained of blood? Does it make you afraid to own the horses?”
“Does it make you afraid to work on them?” he countered.
She inhaled deeply, drawing the masculine scent of him into her lungs. He smelled of forest and spice. A heady combination, but there was a single ingredient that smelled like danger. No matter how sophisticated and suave Tariq appeared, he could suddenly look very predatory. When that particular look crept into his vivid blue eyes, it made her all too aware she was alone with him and she didn’t really know him very well.
“No,” she whispered, even more horrified at herself than she was at the disclosure. “It makes me want to work on them more than ever.” She needed to touch them. To feel the wood under her palm. Under the pads of her fingers. She would know everything, see everything. She would know why people became ill. Understand why some people were murdered and how. Then she would know why Fridrick had chosen to kill her brother and Genevieve’s grandmother in a like manner.
Tariq stepped from the main entrance toward the back section to the four large objects covered with Bubble Wrap. “These are the four horses used, and the bundles behind them are the four chariots. On this particular carousel a horse goes between each chariot. The carousel has a center pole with arms radiating from it to hold the chains that hung the horses and chariots. Of course there is no platform. That wasn’t done until much later.”
“Wait.” She caught his arm, excitement moving through her. “Do you have all the pieces for this carousel? Every single one of them?” It couldn’t be true.
“I haven’t tried assembling it. It arrived a few weeks ago, shipped in separate pieces. I did inventory on everything that came in and checked all the parts off. I didn’t want to make any mistakes with the thing. The pictures I sent to Ricard were the ones taken by Paul Emery and sent out to all private collectors. I wanted to purchase it and wanted to know if there was a chance he would come to do the restoration.”
“He wanted to,” Charlotte conceded. “Why didn’t Paul Emery come out and admit he had such a rare thing? Why wouldn’t he disclose that information to the world? The carousel, depending on its condition, could be worth a fortune. More specifically, it definitely belongs in a museum on display for everyone to see. It’s that important of a piece. This could be the find of the century.”
Tariq shook his head. “It is part of the agreement that every owner has made with the one purchasing the carousel. The new owner must swear they will not allow it on display to the public until the curse has been broken. I intend to figure out what is going wrong, if it truly is, and do something about it, but I need help. I thought Ricard would be the one to do that, but now it falls to you. I hope you meant it when you said you’d stay.”
“They believe in the curse so much that they don’t want to take chances with the public,” she mused. “It’s an inanimate object. It can’t be responsible for illness or murder.”
“Unless it harbors some pathogen on the surface of it.”
The tip of her tongue moistened her lips as she thought about that. “I suppose it could happen, but unlikely, right? Do you believe in this curse? Really believe in it?”
“Something has gone wrong for certain. Every single owner has had family members die, and most succumbed to the curse. I did my research before the purchase and everything Emery told me was true. Every owner and his family has met with a strange, unknown illness or murder. I wanted the chance to solve the puzzle.”
She noticed he was noncommittal as to whether he believed in a curse, but that didn’t matter to her. She had to touch those wooden carvings. She would know the history of them, see into the lives of those who had ridden on them, who had played on them. More, she would know intimately the men who carved them, their hopes and dreams, even, if she was lucky, get a glimpse into their lives during the period of time they worked on the chariots and horses.