Page 13 of The Grey Wolf
“I don’t know. I’m just being careful.” Reine-Marie looked through the door at the activity in their small apartment. This went beyond careful.
“There’s more,” she said. She’d thrown it out there in the hopes he’d shake his head and reassure her. But she’d known, she could read his face.
He brought the photos up on his phone and showed her the notes. “I found these in the pockets of the jacket. Do they look familiar?”
He’d thrown it out there, in the hopes she’d nod and reassure him. But he’d known. And now he could read her face as the lines between her eyes deepened.
“Why would he want to meet you?”
He shook his head.
“You’re not going, are you?”
“I haven’t thought that far ahead.” He pointed out the second note. “What do you make of that?”
“Looks like a shopping list, or ingredients for a recipe, but there aren’t any measurements.”
“An herb garden maybe?” he suggested. “Could Myrna or someone else have given this to you?”
“Not any writing I recognize, and I haven’t asked for advice onplanting an herb garden. Besides, there are a couple of spices mentioned. There’s no way we’re growing nutmeg in Three Pines.”
Armand wondered fleetingly how one would grow nutmeg. It was a nut, no? That you grated? There were enough nuts in the village, at least one of them grating, but not of the same sort.
“And why would it be in the coat you keep in Montréal? What do you think, Armand?”
He took a deep breath. “I think what you think, what any rational person would. That this is very odd behavior. That someone wants my attention. But”—he smiled at her—“it’s not a threat. If this person had something nasty in mind, they would not have sent a note politely asking to see me.”
But still…
She looked again at the note. “Doesn’t it strike you as odd?”
“Yes, I just said that.”
“No, not the note itself, but where he’s asked to meet you.”
“It’s a well-known café in the area.”
“True, but still. Open Da Night? Does he know you better than you realize?”
He smiled. Trust Reine-Marie to pick up on something few others would know. Except him. And, perhaps, the thief. Which was, he had to admit, disconcerting. It wasn’t just a local café, it was one Armand and Reine-Marie had visited often. And the man had used its nickname, known only to locals.
“How do you feel about going back to Three Pines?” he asked.
Now it was her turn to smile. It was put as a question but was really a request.
“Happy to. Will you join me there tonight?”
“That’s my plan.” Though, she heard in his voice, far from a certainty.
When Reine-Marie left, Armand made a call, then joined Beauvoir outside the front door.
“It looks like whoever did this must’ve had a key,” said Gamache.
“I agree,” said Jean-Guy. “But how could they?”
Gamache shook his head. “I’ve arranged to have the lock changed.Though I doubt there’ll be more trouble. I think whoever it was got what they came for.”
“What? The coat?” asked Beauvoir.
