A Better Man (Chief Inspector Armand Gamache #15) - Louise Penny Page 0,127
control his anger.
“It was over. I wasn’t there.”
Gamache also got up. And got right into Cameron’s space. Into his face. “What did she do? Threaten to go to your wife? Your work? And when she refused to just go away, you pushed her.”
“No.”
“You pushed a pregnant woman to her death.”
“No, never!”
Cameron heaved off and gave Gamache a mighty shove. Propelling him backward.
Henri barked and crouched, prepared to lunge.
“Henri, stay!” Gamache commanded as he regained his balance.
And Henri did. As did Gracie. Just. It clearly went against their every instinct.
Because he was prepared for it, had intentionally provoked it, Gamache had staggered but managed to keep to his feet, despite the force of the blow.
Which was far more than a young woman taken by surprise could possibly have done.
* * *
“Vivienne happened,” said Lysette Cloutier.
Lacoste recognized the look in Cloutier’s eyes. It was the expression of someone who’d made up her mind to walk off a cliff. And was just about to do it.
Still, Isabelle coaxed her forward. “Go on.”
“Homer and I hadn’t been intimate yet, but it was close. We finally admitted our feelings. I wonder if you know what that’s like? To be in love with someone for years, maybe decades, and then, in your forties, to have those feelings returned. It felt like a miracle. It was a miracle. But Homer said he owed it to Vivienne to tell her, before we took it further.”
Lysette lowered her head and narrowed her eyes. Then she raised her head. High. And looked directly at Superintendent Lacoste.
“I didn’t kill her.”
“What happened?” Lacoste asked.
She noticed that Beauvoir had turned back to his laptop and was reading something. A message. But she kept her focus on the middle-aged accountant–cum–homicide agent. Cum suspect. In front of her.
“Vivienne told him to break it off.”
And there it was.
“Why?”
“Why did she do anything?” Long trapped deep inside, Cloutier’s demons finally split the sinews and came tumbling out. “Because she was weak and afraid and needy and manipulative.”
“What was she afraid of?”
“Of not being the center of Homer’s life. She’d managed to come between Homer and Kathy, and now she came between us. I should’ve seen it coming, but I thought it was specific to her mother. A teenage thing. She was all grown up now. Married. It never occurred to me she’d tell him it was her or me.”
“Is that what she said?”
“Yes.”
“And what did Homer do?”
“You know what he did. He broke it off.”
“He chose his grown married daughter over a woman he loved?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Obviously he didn’t love me enough. Didn’t love me as much.”
“As much as Vivienne?”
“As much as I loved him.”
“What did he do?”
“Nothing. He just said we couldn’t see each other anymore.”
“And you accepted that?”
“What could I do?”
Lacoste looked at her. They both knew what she could’ve done. Might’ve done.
“How long ago was that?”
“Almost a year ago. We haven’t seen each other since then. Until he emailed and told me Vivienne was missing.”
“Where were you on Saturday?”
“It was my day off. I was at home doing laundry. Chores.”
“Alone?”
Lysette nodded. Always alone.
“Did you go down to see Vivienne? To confront her?”
“Of course not. It was over and done with almost a year ago. Why would I do it now? What’re you saying?”
“I’m saying things grow. Fester. Time doesn’t always heal. Sometimes it makes things worse. Is that what happened to you, Lysette?”
“Of course not.”
“Did you think about it, about him, every day?”
“No.”
“Did you think about what might’ve been, if Vivienne hadn’t done that? How your life would be so different?”
“No.”
“Did you arrange to meet her? Offer her something she wanted?”
“No.”
“Money, maybe?”
“No.”
“Did she suggest the bridge?”
“No.”
“Did you push her off?”
“No!”
“Did you want her dead?”
Pause.
“Yes.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
As soon as Reine-Marie walked into the kitchen, she could see she was interrupting.
“I’m sorry,” she said, stopping at the door. “Is something wrong?”
“Non,” said Isabelle. “We were just chatting.”
Though that was clearly not true.
“I was going to make breakfast,” said Reine-Marie, going to the fridge. “Why don’t you continue your chat in the study?”
Isabelle Lacoste smiled and nodded. “Merci. I think we will.”
“Where’s Armand?”
“Out for a walk. He took the dogs. Is Monsieur Godin still asleep?”
“Yes,” said Reine-Marie. “I looked in but didn’t want to disturb him. Is Jean-Guy with Armand?”
“Non,” came the familiar voice.
Jean-Guy had gone to the study to print something and now returned to the kitchen holding the papers. “But I do need to find him. Be back soon. Don’t let Isabelle eat everything. You know what she’s like.”