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7.

Through the remainder of our church tour through Pleyben, Le Fouët, and Plouay, I'd been mightily distracted by sulking, and by the time I collapsed on that blessed bed in Vannes, I was ready to tackle the problem head on. "All right. Leaving aside the unexpected horror of stumbling over Schmidt's spiritual twin --"

"She has many devoted fans, doesn't she?" John peered at me from beneath the towel he was using to scrub his head.

"And the even less thrilling revelation that you've read all of that woman's books, too --" He grinned at me, and I scowled back. I finished stiffly, "The main issue here is that those people had this odd belief that I'd be coming before I even got there."

"The powers of prayer?"

"Give me a break -- he'd read all of my articles!"

"Yes, so you see there's no reason for jealousy," he told me reassuringly. "Ah, writers are so sensitive."

"I'm not jeal -- don't change the subject!" I had worked myself into a healthy seethe now. "Not only that, but I got the singular impression that 'Monsieur Bliss' had led them to believe I was going to be championing their cause."

"Well," he said comfortably, "you did tell him that you'd put in a few good words for them where it might be helpful. I hardly think that they would be expecting a hands-on approach."

"Hands-on approach?"

"Taking in hell hounds and feline fiends is one thing, entire villages is another," John said, dismissive. "At any rate, we can look into the cathedral here tomorrow, then the stone monuments. The pilgrimage portion will end with Quimper." He added in pious tones, "It's vitally important to finish the Tro-Breizh once you've started, else you'll have to finish it in the afterlife, one coffin's length every seven years."

"Look," I said, ignoring the prattle, "it's not just out of the question, it's beyond the realm of possibility. I work in a different country. They don't even know me, so why would they trust me over someone local?"

"Your professional demeanor and bright-eyed, bouncing American enthusiasm -- and, er, other attributes -- offset that quite well. You radiate an aura of winning sincerity. If I were still in the game, you'd be useful to have along indeed."

"If?" That reminded me of something I'd forgotten. "What the hell did you put in your coat pocket back there?"

He blinked, but recovered instantly. "What d'you mean?"

I knew it. He hadn't been expecting that. "I can tell when you're trying to shift my attention somewhere else, you know." That wasn't strictly true, but I'd just happened to be leaning over that chest in time to see him tucking something into the inside pocket of his overcoat by that enclosed bed. "So what was it?"

"Nothing of concern at the moment," he said, sounding annoyed.

I steepled my fingers. "All right. I only have the car and your suitcase to toss, right? Not a lot of territory. It's doable."

"I meant what I said." He dropped down to sit on the bed beside me. "I'd every intention of discussing the matter later, so leave it for then. You've been wandering in a haze all day as it is, so I'd prefer that you devote your thoughts to more pressing concerns."

"What exactly do you consider a more pressing concer -- oh."

"Exactly. Do pay attention."

I shoved his hand away. "I'm going to be blunt here. I'm not even interested in that when I know you're lying to me again."

"But I'm not," he said, reapplying himself to work. "You see through my every clever ruse, so there's no point, is there?"

"You're such a liar -- ah."

"'Therefore I lie with her, and she with me'," he said, "'And in our faults by lies we flatter'd be'."