Page 187 of A Better Man

“The question. Please answer it.”

They’d stopped, and now Armand and Isabelle joined them.

Dominica Oddly thought about it, but not for long. “He wouldn’t be the first artist to benefit from something like that. The cult of celebrity can be pretty perverse. Just look at—”

“Tracey,” Jean-Guy reminded her, before the lecture began. “Would getting away with murder help him?”

She nodded. “Probably. But how would he know he’d get away with it?”

“Maybe it didn’t matter,” said Isabelle.

“Would matter to him,” said Oddly. “His art might start selling for tens of thousands, or more, but what good would it do him if he’s executed?”

“We don’t actually kill prisoners in Canada,” said Lacoste.

“Are you sure?” asked Oddly.

“What’re you thinking?” Gamache asked Lacoste.

“Who would benefit,” she whispered to Gamache and Beauvoir, “if Vivienne was murdered and her suddenly famous artist husband was convicted?”

“Pauline Vachon,” said Beauvoir. “You think she’s that clever?”

“You met her, what do you think?”

Myrna and Billy helped Clara clean up, though most of it had already been done by the others.

“You okay?” Myrna asked her friend.

“Just fine.”

“Pour yourself a vat of wine, cut a huge slice of chocolate cake, sit by the fire, and know you’re loved. You and your art. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll walk you home,” said Billy as they put on their coats to leave.

“That’s all right. It’s not far.”

“I know. I’d like to.” He put on his gloves and hat and was glad Myrna couldn’t see his face.

“Billy—” Myrna began as they walked along the road.

“Don’t say it. Please.”

If only he hadn’t allowed himself to imagine their lives together. What might have been. The quiet nights. Reading. Cooking. Having friends over. Meals in the bistro. Together.

Growing old. Together.

He left her at her door, then got in his truck and drove home. Alone.

Clara took Myrna’s advice, as she almost always did.

It helps, she thought, as she cut herself a huge wedge of cake and carried it into the living room, to have a wise friend. Who can bake.

As she sat in front of the fireplace with Leo, Clara tried to clear her mind. But found it cluttered with Dominica Oddly. And that review.

Leo placed his magnificent head on her lap, and they both stared into the roiling fire.