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"It is," agreed Ga doesn’t et a load of all the s hands? What was that? You can’t tell me these people aren’t into mind-control"

"Happiness isn’t a cult either," whispered Gamache, but Beauvoir looked like he didn’t believe it The Inspector looked around suspiciously

The rooes Souht under control The rest smiled as they listened to the president

They looked, to Beauvoir, de church baseht? Unless they were drunk, stoned, or demented

"Does he look familiar to you?" Beauvoir indicated the president of AA, one of the feho looked sane

The Chief had just been wondering the sa The man was clean-shaven, handsoray hair was trilasses were both classic and stylish, and he wore a light sweater that looked cashmere

Casual but expensive

"A doctor, do you think?" Beauvoir asked

Gamache considered Maybe a doctor More likely a therapist An addictions counselor as responsible for this gathering of alcoholics The Chief wanted to have a ith hi was over

The president had just introduced his secretary, as reading endless announce to find papers she seemed to have lost

"God," whispered Beauvoir "No wonder people drink This’s about as ave Ga look

The president introduced the speaker for that evening, roaned and looked at his watch He see man slouched to the front of the room His head was shaved and there were tattoos around his skull One was a hand with the finger up "Fuck You" was tattooed across his forehead

His entire face was pierced Nose, brows, lips, tongue, ears The Chief didn’t know if it was fashion or self- placidly beside hirandfather had just walked to the front of the rooht Gamache, he had wet-brain Gone soft in the head by too nize danger Because if anyone screa man at the front did

The Chief looked at the president, sitting at the head table, keenly watching the youngin<ins class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true"></ins>