Page 19 of A Better Man

“Then why didn’t she go to her father?” asked Cloutier.

“Maybe she just needed time to herself.”

It seemed a strangely unsatisfactory answer.

Gamache thought for a moment. “Does she have a cell phone?”

“No. There’s no reception up there in the mountains.”

“You don’t seem particularly worried, Agent Cameron,” said Gamache. “An abused woman disappears and you just go about your day?”

“I’m worried,” snapped Cameron, then pulled back. “Désolé.”

Not so slow to anger after all, thought Gamache.

“Yes, I’m worried,” said Cameron. “I know what a piece of work Tracey is. But she’d been gone only a few hours at the time. I was going to give it until noon today, then alert missing persons.”

They looked at the clock. It was ten thirty in the morning.

“Do you mind my asking why you’re here?” he asked. “How did you even hear about this?”

“Her father emailed me this morning,” said Cloutier. “We’re old friends.”

“So this’s unofficial?” asked Cameron.

“Oh, no,” said Gamache. “This’s official. You might be right and she’s safe in a motel. But let’s be certain.” He turned to the commander. “Can you send out an alert, please? And make sure the information gets to all the shelters in the province.”

“Oui, absolument.”

“What did her friends tell you?”

“I didn’t ask,” said Cameron.

“Why not?”

“Because it wasn’t an active investigation,” said Cameron. “Look, if Vivienne needs time away, I for one can’t blame her. I’m not going to track her down for her husband.”

“But it’s not for him,” said Cloutier. “It’s for her father. He was expecting her Saturday night. It’s now Monday. You don’t think she’d have called him by now, if she was safe?”

“Maybe she’s afraid of him, too,” said Cameron. “Maybe they didn’t get along.”

“Then why would she say she was going to him? She must’ve been in trouble. Where else would she turn? Where else would she feel safe?”

Gamache suspected that was true. But he also knew, from experience, people escaping abusive situations often made a fatal, though understandable, error.

They went to where they felt safe. Their families, their best friends.

Obvious places for support. But also obvious places to be found.

Where would the abuser look first, except family and friends?

If Vivienne Godin was leaving her abusive husband, Gamache hoped she’d changed her mind and instead of going to her father, she’d gone to some motel. Or shelter.

“Is that the woman you met?” He pointed to the photo on the desk.

“That’s her,” Cameron said in his gentle voice.

But Gamache wasn’t fooled. He’d seen the man play. Had watched, cheered, as the Alouettes won the Grey Cup on that snowy day. Had seen how ferociously, certainly gleefully, this man had plowed into oncoming defensive tackles. Protecting his quarterback with all his might. And he was certainly mighty, even now.