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 Well, sort of. I m not sure how, but I knew he was making me welcome and wanted me to come closer. And
then when I saw the photograph and I was& compelled, I suppose. But I swear I ve never come around the
back of your house. She looked at the dried-out mud prints.  They re enormous. Is this your partner? she
asked Hope.
 Hell, no. Though it could easily be Jolie s feet, Godfrey blurted.  Shit. We need to think this through. He
turned to Hope.
 I thought I could scent a Were earlier, and just assumed it was your partner. But the inside of the house
smells different. Sort of nicer, Isabelle said.  Much nicer.
 Can you smell something here? Hope pointed at the patio.
 Yes. The same scent as at the kitchen door. It s faint, but I can still pick it out, and it s not the scent that s
inside your house. I guess that s your partner s. This scent is something else. They looked at the prints
circling the deck.  You thought this was me, right?
Hope nodded.  Seems we have a second visitor. I m getting really spooked about this.
This was less simple than before. Before, they had only to rescue Isabelle by handing her over to Claude. Now
there was another feral, plus a murdered man in the local park who happened to be Isabelle s ex-husband. The
link was unmistakable, and the police would be involved. How would that affect their original plan?
Thankfully, Claude was on his way. He might have some ideas of his own.
 I wish Claude was here. Hope finally broke the heavy silence.  We need to get you ready to go, and right
now would be a good time.
 I need to go home. I m going nowhere without my passport and papers, Isabelle stated emphatically.
 We can t go back there. The police will be looking for you. Godfrey was alarmed at this idea.
 I m not worried about the police. I ve been estranged from Barry for almost a year. I didn t do this. In fact,
I m happy to go see the police right now if I have to. But I m not going anywhere without my passport. I m a
Canadian and I need my passport.
 What? It s Canada, for God s sake. It s on the goddamn doorstep. You can reapply for a passport. Just report
it lost or stolen or something 
 No. I need my passport. And my papers. All my papers. Isabelle dug her heels in. Her chin trembled into a
stubborn set.
 The police could easily delay your getting to Little Dip, Hope said.  You need to get there soon, Isabelle.
It s obvious something s happening with you. Your body is in meltdown. It was a sobering thought and Hope
felt a little mean badgering her like this, but they had to get under way. Lord knew how much time they had
left.
Isabelle looked troubled, but refused to budge.  I want my passport.
 Okay, okay. We ll go get your Canadian passport. Godfrey held up his hands.  And maybe we can stop for
maple syrup and Joni Mitchell records on the way.
 Stop being facetious, Hope scolded him.  Let her get her passport. It will only take a minute.
Hope was worried. Was it illegal to help Isabelle leave the city when her ex was in pieces at Oakes Bottom? If
she had her passport she could give them the slip at any time and run off. How much could they afford to trust
her? But worse still, what would happen if Isabelle was taken into police custody in the state she was in?
Hope felt a headache coming on. The thought was unimaginable. It was all such a mess, and she and Godfrey
were up to their necks in it.
 Okay, let s go and do this. But I m locking up this time. Hope held out her hand for her house keys, which
he surrendered without a word.  Come on, Taddy. More den guarding for you.
Isabelle rented a small apartment in a boring gray brick building on Colt Drive. They parked in a visitor s
space and walked around to the front. Isabelle was twitchy as she led them through the corridors to her door.
 The neighbor always complains when he sees me, she said, her face burning.  I make too much noise. She
didn t go into detail.
One step inside and they stood stock-still, viewing the vandalism in shocked silence. The living room had been
smashed to a pulp.
 No wonder the neighbor complains. Godfrey looked around him in disbelief.
 I& I didn t do this. Isabelle jerked out of her dismay.  It had to be Barry. He found out recently where I
live. She began to move through the mess stepping over broken furniture.  I didn t want him to know. He d
become a pest since our house went on the market.
She stood forlorn in a sea of slashed upholstery and shattered crockery and glass. Her secondhand stereo was
upended. CDs lay in snapped bits on the floor. Books were torn apart, the pages scattered like confetti.
Everything had been destroyed in a fit of rage. The carpet was wet and sticky with wine and Coke, mixed with
bleach from the bathroom. Every liquid available had been poured over the floor and soft furnishings. The
smell was overpowering.
 Barry did this? Godfrey sounded dubious.
 He has issues, Isabelle muttered.  Had issues, she said numbly.
 Yeah. With Ikea. Godfrey moved into the room and tried to straighten a table only to find a leg missing.
 This stuff is trashed.
Hope looked around her, unsure what to do.  You do realize you re leaving fingerprints everywhere, she told
Godfrey.
 So? We re hardly going to report a burglary. And we re her friends. Why shouldn t we be in her apartment
touching her stuff?
 Oh. They looked over to see Isabelle rub at her face. She had started to cry.
 What is it? Hope tried to make an avenue toward her through the mess.
 I ve only just met you, and you re both so kind. She scrubbed at her damp cheeks with her cuff.  I ve been
nothing but trouble, and you ve done everything to try and help me. I can t tell you& how much& 
Embarrassed, she looked away. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]