A Better Man (Chief Inspector Armand Gamache #15) - Louise Penny Page 0,94
him there, and kept Reine-Marie safe. Armand doubted Homer would lash out again, but he wasn’t going to take that chance.
“You’re going to arrest him?”
It was the third time Homer had asked and the third time Armand had said yes. And he was happy to say it all day and into the night.
Yes. Yes. Carl Tracey would face a judge and jury for what he did to Vivienne. Carl Tracey would spend the rest of his life in prison.
“And he’ll be convicted. You promise?”
Gamache hesitated for a moment. “There’s one more piece of evidence that will seal it. Someone’s testimony.”
Godin’s eyes widened in surprise. “Someone was there? They saw what happened?”
“No. There’re no actual witnesses. Though there rarely are. A case is built from evidence. And we have plenty. But this last piece would guarantee a conviction.”
“You promise?”
Annie’s father stood up and put out his hand to Vivienne’s father. “I promise.”
Homer took it, then leaned forward very slowly. As did Armand. Until their foreheads touched.
They stayed there for the briefest of moments, eyes closed.
Then Homer pulled back and caught his breath, wiping his face with his sleeve.
“Sorry. Out of Kleenex.”
“Here,” said Lysette, offering a box she’d plucked from a nearby desk.
Homer took it without really noticing who was attached to the offering. “Merci.”
“Ready?” asked Armand.
Homer blew his nose, then stooped to pick up all the balled-up tissues he’d dropped on the floor.
“Leave them,” said Armand.
But the large man would not, could not, leave a mess for someone else to clean up.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Jean-Guy Beauvoir sat behind the wheel of the unmarked car.
By tradition, the senior officer rode in the passenger seat. But Beauvoir could not bring himself to do that while Gamache was in the vehicle. Except that once, when he was too exhausted to drive.
Now they sat side by side. As they had for years. Watching the home of a murder suspect. Waiting for word from Lacoste. Waiting to give the word to go.
* * *
“What do you mean you’re staying the night?” demanded Clara.
“Sorry, but my flight from Burlington to New York was canceled,” Dominica Oddly said.
What she didn’t say was that she herself had canceled it. And spoken to the big gay guy about a room at their bed-and-breakfast. Or, as he insisted on calling it, bed-and-brunch.
If their B&B looked like their bistro and tasted like the bakery, she really might never leave. She did not tell Clara that. The woman already looked like her hair was on fire.
“Can’t you stay over in Burlington?” asked Clara, her voice rising. “Close to the airport?”
“Too late,” said Gabri, dropping a key into Dominica’s hand. “She’s booked in. The Basquiat Suite.”
“Since when do you name your rooms?” Clara all but hissed at him.
“Since she showed up,” said Gabri, unapologetically. “And if you’re not careful, we’ll call the public bathroom the Toilette Clara Morrow.”
“You know what she’s just posted online about my works,” said Clara, watching as Ruth and Myrna joined the critic at the bistro fireplace.
Reine-Marie had gone home, feeling the need for a long shower after watching those vile videos.
Gabri turned to face Clara, his expression no longer a little goofy. “I do. And now you have twenty-four hours you didn’t have before to change her mind.”
“She won’t change her mind.”
They walked over to the bar, and while Clara helped herself to a licorice pipe from the jar, Gabri poured her a red wine.
“You don’t know that.” He smiled and touched her hand. “People do change. Minds change. I know you know that.”
Clara turned and glared at Dominica Oddly, now laughing and chatting with her best friend and her mentor. In her seat. By the fireplace.
She felt the bile grow. Felt the subtle demonisms of thought take hold.
* * *
Lysette had tried to engage Homer in casual conversation. But, understandably, the only thing he was interested in hearing about was their investigation.
Lysette wasn’t really sure how much to tell him but suspected he would not pass any of it along. And it would be public knowledge anyway, as soon as Tracey was arraigned.
Besides, she was desperate to connect with him. To let him know the important role she’d played in having Tracey arrested.
To let him know she wasn’t just on his side but by his side.
In the twenty-minute drive from Cowansville to Three Pines, she’d been debating how much to reveal. Not just about the case against Tracey but about herself.
About her feelings.
It was just dumb luck that Chief Inspector Gamache had given her this time alone with Homer. He