Page 74 of A Better Man

Gamache swung his flashlight over to the far shore.

“What is it?” called Reine-Marie. “Have you found something?”

“No, it’s nothing,” said Beauvoir, relieved. “Just branches. They looked like a body for a moment.”

He moved his flashlight away. “We can’t search the bridge or shoreline right now. Too dangerous. It’ll have to wait ’til morning.”

But Gamache’s light hadn’t moved. In the beam, he saw what Beauvoir had seen. Tree branches, bobbing slightly in the current. Nothing more.

He could see why Beauvoir would mistake—

Opening his mouth, Gamache took a sharp breath, almost a gasp.

“What is it?” asked Beauvoir. “Do you see something?”

Once more he swung his light over, to join Gamache’s, until the two became one bright spot.

Beauvoir looked more closely at the clump of debris on the opposite bank. But still saw nothing. Certainly not anything that would explain the expression on his father-in-law’s face.

It was one of surprise. Shock, even.

“Vivienne’s not here,” Gamache said, then looked at Beauvoir. “But I think I know where she is.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The two men ran along the path, the river on one side, the forest on the other.

Jean-Guy skidded once and went down on one knee in the mud. Armand grabbed his jacket and hauled him to his feet.

And then they continued on. Their flashlights bobbing wildly ahead of them, illuminating trees, path, rocks, river.

They didn’t have far to go. Just to the bend in the river.

When they’d arrived back in Three Pines, they’d taken Carl Tracey to the bistro, where they found Olivier and Gabri, now that the danger of flooding had passed.

“Keep him here,” Gamache had instructed them. “Billy will stay with you. Homer?”

“At your place,” Olivier said. “Clara and Myrna took him there hoping he’d get some sleep. They’re staying with him.”

“What time is it?” asked Reine-Marie.

“Two thirty,” said Gabri.

“That late?”

“That early,” he said. “The wee hours, as Ruth calls it.”

“Where is she, by the way?”

“She went home. Had to wee.”

Reine-Marie glanced at Tracey. He was in the far corner, where he’d been placed by Jean-Guy. Far away from the warmth and soft light of the fireplace.

Then she turned to Armand. “I’ll make sure Homer doesn’t come over here. You go.”

And Armand and Jean-Guy did.

Even though both men knew there was no need to rush, still they ran. Down the path. Beside the wall of sandbags. They ran behind the general store, the boulangerie, past the back of the bistro and the bookstore. The Bella Bella on one side, forest on the other.