The Sanatorium(60)

Another folder, but this time, it yields something.

Her pulse is racing.

A list of files.

She can tell right away from the file names that they’re encrypted.

Why? Why encrypt files on her personal laptop?

“What have you found?” Will leans over the table.

“Some of the files on her desktop, they’re encrypted.”

“Can you open them?” Isaac peers at the screen.

“No, but I know someone who can, an old colleague, Noah.”

The head of the Digital Forensics team, Noah had been a key part of several big cases Elin had worked on, first as a DC, then the last case as a DS, after her promotion.

“I’ll message him, see if he can do it quickly.” Reaching for her phone, she types:

Encrypted files . . . can you do your thing? Caveat: need it fairly soon.

Three little dots appear on the bottom left of the screen. He’s replying.

Assume it’s not an official request?

No, but any chance . . . ?

There’s a delay. She stares down at the screen, wondering if it’s an ask too far: would he want to help given they hadn’t spoken in months?

Finally, a reply:

Okay, I trust you, but curious. Working again? Abandoned us for pastures new?

Long story. Sending to your personal e-mail now.

I’ll see what I can do.

Elin forwards the files to Noah, then turns to Isaac. “Once we have these—” She pauses, noticing Cecile walking toward them. Her short hair is tousled, her eyes red, the skin below them puffy. She looks tired.

“Sorry to disturb, but the security footage, it’s ready, if you want to look.”

Elin flashes Isaac an apologetic look. “Do you mind?”

His eyes narrow, but he rallies. “It’s fine.”

Standing up, Elin squeezes Will’s hand. “See you later, okay?”

He nods, smiles, but his expression is uneasy. He casts a worried look around the room, toward the open door.

Elin knows she should probably be feeling the same, but following Cecile, she feels her heart thudding.

It isn’t fear causing the reaction, but something just as primal.

Excitement: a sudden bolt of adrenaline.

Will’s right, about her coming alive. She’s forgotten this—life not just happening to her, but being part of it. Changing the path of something. Taking action.





47





Before we go through the footage”—Cecile gestures at the tablet on the desk—“I wanted to talk to you about Lucas. What he said earlier, about Laure, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.” She looks embarrassed as she catches Elin’s eye.

“About what?” Cecile’s perfume is lingering in the air: light, citrusy, surprisingly feminine.

“What happened between them.” Cecile tucks a loose section of hair behind her ear. “I don’t know if you’re aware, but Lucas . . . he’s my brother.”

“I guessed. The name was a bit of a clue.”

“Of course.” Smiling, Cecile pulls her chair from her side of the desk, moves it until she’s next to Elin. “What he said, how it sounded, it’s a veneer he has up, a way of protecting himself.” The words tumble out. “Lucas hasn’t had an easy time of it. His marriage—it ended badly. He hasn’t had a proper relationship since. These short-term things, they’re because he’s scared.”

“Of what?”

“Opening himself up. Being vulnerable.” Cecile toys with the hem of her shirt. Her words are matter-of-fact, but the emotion is obvious in her voice. “Because he was in and out of the hospital as a child, other people, our parents in particular, treated him like he was something . . . fragile. I think he’s always had this sense that he’s got something to prove. When Odette, his wife, left him, those feelings of inferiority . . . they intensified.”

“A breakup can be destabilizing,” Elin replies, thinking about her last relationship before Will, how absolutely it had thrown her. Made her question everything.

“I was the same after my divorce. You keep going over things in your head. Blaming yourself.” Cecile’s eyes are distant, glazed. “I had all these plans, like Lucas. Children. Family life . . . None of it happened. It takes time to mentally readjust.”

“I suppose what happened with Daniel Lemaitre didn’t help, the fact that he went missing before the hotel even opened. It must have been tough.”

“It was. It put pressure on things. Finances. PR. Everything. Delayed the build by nearly a year.” She hesitates. “But the stress for Lucas, it wasn’t only financial. Daniel and Lucas, they were close.”

“You knew him, too, didn’t you?” Elin prompts.

“Not as well as Lucas, but yes. Our parents were good friends. We used to ski together almost every weekend, and when we got older, dinners, parties . . .” A look Elin can’t decipher crosses Cecile’s face before she smiles. “But he was better friends with Lucas. He tended to dominate any friendships we had as a group. You’ve got a brother; you probably know how it is.”

Elin nods, thinking about the similarities between them. Two strong women still defined by sibling dynamics, fighting for oxygen against alpha brothers.