At the elevator, he jabbed the down button.
“How much does it hurt?”Tean asked.
Jem didn’t answer.
“Is it your shoulder?”Tean asked.“Take off your coat.”
But when he reached for Jem, the blond man held up a warning hand.He didn’t say anything.He just stood there, holding up his hand and breathing through his nose.
Tean gave up on the coat.
They rode down the elevator in silence.
When they got to the lobby, Jem started for the exit.
“Where are we going?”Tean asked.
“To talk to her.”
“Okay.”Jem’s stride was shorter than usual, clipped on one side.Color was leaching from his face except for two red spots that burned behind his beard.Tean tried not to, but he couldn’t help asking, “Why?”
“Because she might know if Gerald noticed the missing money.She might know how Gerald and Stephen met.She might know something about Stephen that isn’t pure fucking bullshit.I don’t know, Tean, there are still two children who are missing.Maybe she has an idea about what happened to them.How does that sound?Is that okay with you?”
“Yes.”Tean was surprised by how small his voice was.“Of course.”
Jem cut his next step short.He stood there, still dropping his shoulder, sweat glistening on his forehead.His mouth moved like he might say something.And then he started walking again.
Outside, the sound of their steps was brittle, and on the pistes, the wind picked up loose snow and carried it, so that Tean could almost fool himself into thinking he heard sand striking a tent.The cold cut through their coats, but he only noticed it in a clinical way.He followed Jem along the covered walkways.The sun gave the illusion that the day must be warming, but in the blue wash of shadow, Tean felt no sign of it.
When they stepped into the chalet, the sudden silence closed around them like a noose.The interior was dark except for glimmers of light that made their way in around the edges of the curtains.The coffee smelled burned now.
“Hello?”Jem called as he followed the short entryway.“Anybody home?”
Movement and the clip of steps made Tean glance up to the loft.Brigitte was letting herself out of the bedroom that Maeve and Milo had been using.When she saw them, something flickered on her expression, and it reminded Tean of Jem—of the way he looked sometimes when he was on high alert.When he was playing one of his games.When he wasn’t Jem at all, because he was someone else.
“What happened?”she said, hurrying to the short staircase that led down to the main area.“Something happened.”
Not, Tean thought,Did you find them?
“We ran into Stephen,” Jem said.He tried to straighten his stooped posture, but a grimace tightened his face, and he sagged down again.“We need to talk.”
“Are you okay?You’re hurt.What did he do to you?”
Jem shook his head, but by then, Brigitte was fussing over him, easing him out of his coat, making small sounds of commiseration, asking questions, pressing Jem into one of the chairs.
“You can barely stand up,” she said as she hurried to the kitchenette.And then, to Tean, “Why’d you let him walk all the way over here?”
Tean opened his mouth, but Jem answered, “We needed to talk to you.”
“You should be lying down.”Brigitte pulled an ice pack from the freezer.“Gerald’s knee,” she said as though that were an explanation.“You could have called me, sweetheart.I would have come to you.”
Even in the chalet’s darkened interior, the deepening color in Jem’s cheeks was unmistakable.
Somewhere inside Tean, an alarm began to ring.
“Sit here.”Brigitte pressed on Jem’s good shoulder like she was making sure he wouldn’t do anything silly like try to get up.The ice pack, now wrapped in a towel, she pressed against his other shoulder.“Do you need anything?Gerald has some hydrocodone he takes when his knee bothers him.Let me get you one of those.”
“No,” Tean said.
