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Lacoste shook her head and reached for a chocolate lass dish, and decorated with real creaed a dark, rich coffee toward her, satisfied with her report, and her lunch

Beauvoir noticed there was just one mousse left Lemieux had taken a fruit salad, which Beauvoir was relieved to see but vieith some suspicion Who would choose fruit over chocolate mousse? But now he himself was left with a terrible dilemma, a culinary Sophie’s Choice One mousse Should he take it for himself or leave it for Ga his eyes he saw Ga Not at the dessert At hi else So Beauvoir had rarely seen there

Sadness

Then Beauvoir knew Knew everything Knehy Nichol was still on the tea her with him that afternoon

If officers loyal to Arnot wanted a down Gamache how best to do it? Plant someone on his tea her, he decided to play a dangerous game He kept her on And more than that He kept her close So he could watch her So he could also keep her away fro hirenade that was Yvette Nichol For the up the dessert, he placed the chocolate mousse in front of Armand Gaged her hands through her hair and stared at the work on the easel How had it gone froain, then put it down She needed a finer one Finding it she dabbed it in the green oil paint, gave it just a touch of yellow and approached the painting

But she couldn’t She no longer knehat she wanted to do

Clara’s hair stood out at the sides of her head with streaks of blue and yellow paint in it She could haveas Clara the Clown Even her face was streaked with color, though her eyes would scare any child who came close

Haunted, fearful eyes Less than a week now before Denis Fortin showed up He’d called that ues with hiued Clara Painters didn’t have colleagues Most barely had friends But now she hated the word Hated the phone And hated the thing on the easel that was supposed to lift her from obscurity and make the art world finally take notice

Clara backed away from the easel, afraid of her work

‘Look at this’ Peter’s head appeared at her door She’d have to consider closing it, she thought No more interruptions She never interrupted hi so why did he think it was OK to not only speak to her, but expect her to leave the studio to look at what? A piece of bread with a hole in it that looked like the Queen? Lucy lying with her head under the carpet? A cardinal at their bird feeder?

Anything, as long as it was insignificant, was reason enough for Peter to interrupt her work But she knew she was being unfair If she knew one thing it was that Peter, while not necessarily understanding her work, was her biggest supporter

‘Coestured to her excitedly and disappeared

Clara took off her pinafore, s oil paint on her shirt as she did, and left the studio, trying to ignore the relief she felt as she turned off the light

‘Look’ Peter practically dragged her over to the

There was Ruth on the village green, talking to so odd about that It actually would have been strange had there been so to listen to her

‘Wait for it’ Peter could sense her impatience ‘Look,’ he said triu then turned and walked very slowly back across the green toward her horoceries As she walked two rocks seemed to move with her Clara looked more closely They were fuzzy sort of rocks Birds Probably the ubiquitous chickadees Then the one in front flapped its wings and lifted up a little

‘Ducks,’ said Clara, s as she watched Ruth and her two ducklings walk in line back to the sreen

‘I didn’t see her go across to Monsieur Béliveau’s for groceries, but Gabri did He called and told uys waited outside the store for her, then followed her to the green’

‘I wonder what she was saying to the theine? Our own little tourist destination, the village with ducks that speak’