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He heard a cracking but didn’t stop to check. He knew the man was down. And wasn’t getting up.
Grabbing the knife, he ran up the stairs, two at a time.
At the top he rammed into someone, knocking both of them to the floor. Gamache scrambled to his feet, his eyes wild. Brandishing the knife.
“Chief,” shouted Amelia, her hands up in front of her.
He took her in, then looked around. Around. A—
And there she was. Coming toward him.
He dropped the knife and went to Reine-Marie. They clung to each other. Rocking and sobbing. Then Armand reached out and grabbed Jean-Guy, bringing him into the embrace, as Amelia and Harriet looked on.
And Fiona knelt by her brother.
CHAPTER 39
“Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit,” said Harriet, as she greeted the month of July.
She got up, stretched, then went for her early-morning run before the day got too hot.
By the time she got back, the villagers had gathered on the bistro terrasse for a late breakfast.
“Happy Canada Day,” said Harriet, kissing her Auntie Myrna on the top of her head.
“You stink,” said Ruth when the young woman sat down beside her.
“Merci,” she said. “And you look like crap.”
Ruth laughed. Then, lifting her middle finger, she waved to Armand and Reine-Marie, who were just stepping off their front veranda, Henri, Fred, and Gracie tumbling after them.
“Welcome home,” Clara called.
After greeting everyone, Armand and Reine-Marie sat down.
“Who’s that?” Harriet pointed to a young man, shirt off, placing logs in a teepee pattern in the firepit on the village green. Ready for the Canada Day bonfire that evening.
“My nephew,” said Billy. “He’s just started working with me.”
They all looked over. The young man was glistening in the mid-morning sun.
While the others turned back, Myrna noticed that Harriet had not. Myrna and Billy exchanged glances. Ahhhh, to have that many pheromones again.
Olivier placed French presses on the table for the Gamaches, along with jugs of hot, frothy milk.
“Merci, mon beau Gabri,” said Reine-Marie. She plunged, then poured the coffee while servers took their orders.
“How was the cabin?” Gabri asked.
It was a delicate way to ask how they were. And, just possibly, to dig for information.
As soon as they were able, after the siege at their home, Armand, Reine-Marie, and Jean-Guy had gone to the lake house. To spend the rest of June with their family. To swim and canoe. To sit on the dock and watch the early-morning mist rise from the lake, then burn off as they drank their coffee and did their sums and welcomed a fresh new day. One that, for a while that long night, they never thought they’d see.
The best sound ever, Armand decided, was the slamming of a screen door. It meant the children were awake and racing out to play.
It meant all was right with the world.
It meant that all was well.
