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Isabelle Lacoste drove by the church, past the old schoolhouse, and around the village green, to park in front of the bistro.

The young inspector splashed through the rain, covering her head with a satchel.

By the time she took a seat in their circle, Olivier had put down another coffee.

“For you, ma chérie,” he said, giving Isabelle a kiss on both cheeks, a greeting reciprocated.

“Before you tell us what you have,” Armand said to her, “I need to explain to Clara why we broke into her home.”

“We didn’t exactly break in, patron,” said Jean-Guy. “The door was unlocked.”

“Let’s call it a home invasion then,” said Clara. “Better? You scared the shit out of me.”

“We couldn’t risk alerting anyone who might have been in there with you,” said Jean-Guy.

Clara grew very still. “Are you saying someone was in my home? While I slept?”

“We don’t know.”

“But you suspect?”

And then Armand explained about the call.

“He said there was a body in Lost Nation?” said Clara when he’d finished. It hadn’t taken long. She looked from one to the other. “What does that mean?”

“We don’t know,” admitted Jean-Guy. He suspected he’d soon get tired of saying that. “Have you ever heard of it?”

“Lost Nation?” Clara drew her brows together in thought. Then shook her head. “Désolée. No. If there’s a body there, was it murder?”

“We don’t know,” said Jean-Guy. It was among his least favorite phrases. Right up there with “Ruth’s coming over.”

“But that doesn’t explain why you came to my house.”

Then Armand told her the rest. About the trace of the call. About who the phone was registered to.

“Me? Maybe it was another C. Morrow.”

“In Three Pines?” asked Jean-Guy.

Using a napkin, Armand brought her cell phone out of his pocket and placed it on the table. Clara automatically reached for it, but he stopped her.

“I’m sorry. We need to get it to forensics and our tech people.”

“But whoever called you couldn’t have used it. It was with me all night.”

“Besides,” said Reine-Marie, “when Clara calls us, her ID appears. We know who it is. The call this morning had no caller ID.”

“True, but it still needs to be checked. Clara, when was the last time you went into the crawl space below your home?”

“There’s a crawl space?”

“Okay,” said Jean-Guy. “How about the attic?”

Clara thought. “Years. I can’t remember when. Why?”

“It looks like someone was in both places,” said Armand. “And fairly recently.”

“We looked,” said Jean-Guy.