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He was alanting But up until now he hadn’t really knohat he wanted, so he’d gone after everything

Now, at least, he knew

He sat in Clara’s studio and waited God, he knew, lived here too Not just in St Thomas’s on the hill But here, in the cluttered space, with the dried-up apple cores, the tins with oil-hardened brushes shoved into thelass feet and the uteruses rampant

Across the hall in his pristine studio he’d made space for inspiration All clean and tidy But inspiration had ht Peter, it wasn’t just inspiration he was looking for, it was more

That had been the proble inspiration was enough Mistaking the created for the Creator

He’d brought a bible with him into Clara’s studio, in case that would help In case God needed proof he was sincere He flipped through it, finding the apostles

Tho Thomas

How odd that Three Pines would have a church named after a doubter

And his own name? Peter He was the rock

To pass the time until God found him Peter skimmed the bible for any references to his na ones

Peter the rock, Peter the apostle, Peter the saint Aelse too So Jesus had said to Peter when the apostle had been faced with an obvious h he hi on water, hadn’t believed it

Hadn’t believed all the evidence, all the proof

"O, ye of little faith"

It had been said of Peter

He closed the book

It ilight by the tient Isabelle Lacoste parked the car and entered the Incident Room She’d called ahead and Chief Inspector Ga for her