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Myrna smiled. She could never express why, but when she looked at this grizzled man, in his ill-fitting suit and unshavable face and untamable hair, who was about as far from an intellectual as possible, she felt safe and content and at peace.
She was happy before meeting him. But she was happier now. “I am.”
But that didn’t last long. Armand and Reine-Marie joined them moments later.
“He’s coming down to Three Pines,” Armand whispered.
He didn’t have to say who.
“Hardye?”
“Oui, patron.”
Agent Moel joined the Chief Inspector in the hallway.
“I’m going to the local detachment. Inspector Chernin’s coming with me. You’re in charge.” He glanced toward the Arsenault children in the living room. “How are they?”
She considered. “Numb. Disconnected. I’m hoping to stop them from completely disassociating. It’s a balance. I think right now they need to know they’re safe. Can you imagine? The abuse is traumatic enough, but to be pimped out by your own mother? And now to be told she’s dead?”
Armand shook his head. Every day he faced the unimaginable. But this was worse than most. “At least they have each other.”
“Oui.”
He looked at Agent Moel. “What is it?”
“There’s a strong, almost unnatural bond between them.”
“Unnatural?”
“Not, I think, in that way. It’s a sort of fusion. I’ve seen it before in deeply traumatized children. They lose themselves in someone else. Hiding there until they can heal.”
“Is it mutual?” Gamache asked and saw her smile.
“Now that’s an interesting question. Why do you ask?”
“It just seems…”
She nodded. “The boy.”
“Yes.”
“If what you think happened to them actually did—”
“It did. There’s video,” said Gamache.
“Christ,” she muttered. “Then, being the youngest, he’d be the most damaged. His personality sealed up tight. And we both know what happens to things left too long in the dark. And yet…” She considered them again. “He’s the one who cried. The girl still hasn’t.”
They both knew that was a bad sign. A warning sign.
CHAPTER 8
Chief Inspector Gamache slapped the photograph onto the desk. His hand hit with such force the sound reverberated beyond the four walls and out into the bullpen at the Sûreté detachment.
“Captain?” One of the agents peered into the office.
Linda Chernin used her boot to slam the door shut. The agents working in the outer room could still see through the window into the station commander’s office, but they couldn’t hear. Unless voices were raised, and it seemed likely they would be.
Captain Dagenais looked down at the screen grab, his face growing pale.
