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“I’ve been through those woods—it’s not easy going. I’d think it’ll take him a good hour or more.” Once again he looked at his watch.

Homer would be arriving right about now.

“Damn.” Armand turned to Reine-Marie. “The carving knife’s gone.”

She paled, visualizing the large, sharp knife.

“I just called Tracey’s home,” Lacoste reported. “No answer.”

“We’ve gotta go,” said Beauvoir.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

“Anything?” asked Beauvoir.

He’d slammed the car door, not trying to be discreet. Just the opposite. He wanted to make noise. Let Homer know they were there.

“Nothing,” said one of the agents.

“Did you speak to Tracey?” asked Beauvoir. “Warn him?”

“We knocked on the door, but there was no answer,” said the other agent. “Without a warrant, we didn’t think we should break in. But we’ve been watching closely, and no one’s approached the house.”

He looked at his colleague, who nodded agreement.

“You did the right thing,” said Beauvoir.

Homer had been gone for just under an hour and a half. He should be there soon. If he wasn’t already.

Beauvoir looked around and considered the options.

They could go into the woods and hope to find Homer.

They could go into the house and take Tracey into protective custody.

They could leave him there as bait, stake out the house, and arrest Homer when he appeared.

Or they could do nothing. And let Homer do what he came to do.

Jean-Guy Beauvoir knew he’d never do that. But still …

“I’m going to get Tracey,” he said. “Bring him into protective custody. We’ll knock down the door if we have to.”

“I’ll come with you,” said Lacoste. “You two come with us.” She indicated the agents who’d been on duty. “You two”—she pointed to Cloutier and Cameron—“stay here and watch the road.”

While clearly not happy about being left behind, they had no choice.

Beauvoir looked at Gamache, who was scanning the tree line. “Patron?”

“I’ll stay out here.”

His eyes returned to Beauvoir, briefly, before coming to rest on the two officers. Cloutier and Cameron.

Beauvoir couldn’t make out what Gamache was thinking.

“Monsieur Godin isn’t armed, is he?” asked one of the agents.

“He has a kitchen knife,” said Gamache.