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Finally, during one of his visits to the prison, Fiona had asked him about the École Polytechnique and if she could take university courses remotely. He’d used his connections with the Chancellor to advocate for her. And now, many years later, here she was. A graduate mechanical engineer.

While the road ahead for Fiona was far from clear, at least there was one. And he was fairly confident the young woman could pull it together.

Her brother was a different story. Still, he’d be gone in a few days, Fiona would move into the monitored halfway house in Montréal, and life in Three Pines would return to normal.

But once again, he was wrong.

Later that night while brushing his teeth, Armand picked up the very slight scent of his cologne, though he hadn’t put any on that day.

When he went to get into bed, he noticed the slight indent of a head on his pillow. It was odd, but sometimes Henri snuck onto their bed when they were out.

Opening his book, Armand froze, all his senses tingling.

The bookmark had been moved.

Had it been just that, he’d have thought it must’ve dropped on the floor and the bookmark fallen out. And someone, probably Reine-Marie, had slipped it back in the wrong place.

But it was not just that. There was also the cologne and the pillow.

He got out of bed, careful not to disturb Reine-Marie, who was already asleep.

“Stay here,” he whispered to Henri and Gracie, who’d lifted their heads. Fred was mostly deaf now and would sleep through anything except the slight rustle of the kibble bag.

Putting on his dressing gown, Armand first searched the upstairs rooms for an intruder. He paused at Fiona’s room, then moved on. He was pretty sure he knew who had been there. And might still be.

Moving downstairs, he double-checked that the front door was locked, then picked up the baseball bat that was leaning against the doorjamb as he searched the rest of the main floor.

Methodical, stealthy, hyperalert. His trained senses took in everything.

In the study he noticed other subtle signs. The desk chair had been turned around and some items had been moved. Slightly.

He touched the keyboard and the computer sprang to life, showing the screen saver.

Returning to the living room, he stood quietly. Something was different. Something was wrong. And then he saw it.

One of the photographs had been turned around so that it faced away from the room. He picked it up.

The framed picture was of the family at Christmas. He, Reine-Marie, and Stephen were holding the children. Daniel, Annie, and their spouses were standing behind them. Somehow Ruth had managed to photobomb them, peeking in from the side of the picture.

Everyone was smiling. Laughing. The Christmas tree, festooned with strings of tinsel and Christmas lights and baubles, was in the background.

He stared at the photograph and fought to keep his head above this outrage, even as it threatened to overwhelm him.

He had no doubt that it was a deliberate message. And he knew who’d sent it.

Armand took three deep breaths, and when he felt his heart return to normal, he turned to the one place he hadn’t yet searched.

Gripping the baseball bat, he opened the door to the basement and turned on the lights. There were two rooms down there, the largest of which had a dirt floor and was used for storage. Shelves of preserves lined one wall. A large chest sat on a pallet. He opened it and saw the winter blankets and smelled the cedar. There was a small pile of bricks on the dirt floor. He’d meant to get rid of them. Maybe, he thought, he should offer them to Harriet.

Luggage and boxes with Christmas ornaments sat on wooden pallets against the far wall. Firewood was carefully stacked up for the winter.

Finally, he stood in front of the second room. Its closed door was different from any other in the house. This was of solid metal and not just locked but bolted.

He punched in the code and stepped inside.

Turning on the overhead lights, he looked at the bank of special fireproof file cabinets, essentially vaults. Near impossible for anyone, even a skilled safecracker, to break into.

The floor of this room was concrete. Armand had had it poured just before the special cabinets had been installed.