The Sanatorium(67)

“Is that what she said happened?” Elin says, aware of her uneven breathing. All this, what it implied . . . she didn’t like it.

“Yes. Lucas more or less dropped her. I think she had the impression it was something more than it was, you know?”

Elin nods, thinking about what this means. It lends weight to her picture of Lucas: he’s a liar. Denying that he knew the body on the mountain was Daniel, the photograph of him with Adele implying he knew her better than he’d said, and now this.

In a situation like this, that bothers her—he’d explicitly told her that he hadn’t really been in contact with Laure since the fling.

Why lie?

But Elin knows the answer: he’d only lie if he’s got something to hide.





53





Elin finds Isaac sitting with Will in the lounge at a small table by the window.

They’re not talking. Head bent, Will’s looking down at his phone, and Isaac’s staring out through the glass into the darkness.

Pulling out a chair, she takes a seat between them.

Her heart is thumping. What she’s about to do—it’s horrible. She’s never been any good at delivering bad news, softening the blow. Her words always come out clumsy, wrong.

Will looks up, his expression stony. “You’ve been gone awhile. It’s late, Elin. Half past nine.”

“Not that long.”

“I messaged you, went back to the room. When you weren’t there, I came back and found Isaac.” His tone is accusing, unusually judgmental. “Thought he might need some company.”

“I must have just missed you,” she replies, ignoring his comment. “I went through the CCTV footage with Cecile, and then I went back to the room and spoke to Noah. He sent the encrypted files.”

“So quickly?” Isaac looks up for the first time.

“Yes.” Haltingly, she tells them what she’s discovered. When she finishes talking, she’s acutely aware of Isaac’s gaze fixed on her. Unblinking.

There’s an awful, loaded silence.

Elin can’t meet his eye. Instead, she glances around the room at the other occupied tables. One group eating; another, a group of staff, playing cards.

Finally, Isaac speaks, leaning across the table, forearms pressed to the wood. “Are you trying to say you think Laure’s involved in this? Are you out of your mind?”

The sharp edge to his voice makes her falter. “Well, she’s not locked up, is she? Being held somewhere, like you thought. We know from the CCTV footage that she’s been here the whole time. If she has, why hasn’t she been in touch? Let you know she’s okay?”

Isaac stiffens. “I don’t know, but there has to be another explanation, doesn’t there?”

Several beats pass. She can hear the rapid pull of his breath.

Elin hesitates, struggling with what she’s about to say next. “Did Laure speak to you much about her depression?”

“Bits and pieces.” Isaac’s expression is closed. Defensive.

“Laure’s laptop, the encrypted files . . . there was something on there about psychotic depression.” She fumbles over her words. “It’s when the depression gets so severe, it can result in psychotic episodes.”

He flushes; his face is growing angry, livid.

“Did you know?”

“No.” His voice is clipped. “She never told me.”

Elin reaches out, puts a hand on his arm, but he pulls away. “Isaac, she might not have wanted to. Might not have known how you’d take it . . .”

“How I’d take it? Elin, we’re engaged.” He clenches his fist. “It doesn’t make sense, these lies . . . not now.”

“But it won’t, that’s the point. If you’re experiencing one of these episodes, you lose contact with reality. False perceptions, false beliefs, they can lead to paranoid, delusional behavior.”

Isaac shakes his head, eyes narrowing to slits. “All this,” he says quietly. “You’re trying to tee me up, aren’t you? You really think she’s got something to do with what’s happened.”

She can feel her face growing hot. “We don’t know for certain, not yet, I just wanted to—”

“No. You’re digging away at the wrong thing, some theory, when we should be out there looking for her. She isn’t involved, Elin. I know she isn’t.” Staring down at his hands, he pushes his knuckles together. “Look at what happened to Adele. You think Laure could be capable of that?” He bites down on his lip. “Christ, Elin. She was your friend.”

Will gives her a worried glance, his foot nudging hers beneath the table. He wants her to stop, she can tell, but she can’t. Isaac has to confront this. If Laure’s involved, he needs to be aware.

“Isaac, no one’s saying anything definitively, but I think you should be prepared. Laure’s lied. Repeatedly.”

He shakes his head. “It’s not as easy as that, is it, Elin? We all lie. That’s what people do. The unpalatable bits, the ugly bits, the bits that make you look bad. Look at you—you’ve not been honest, have you? About what’s going on with your life, this break from work.” He tenses. “You haven’t even told Lucas and Cecile you’re not actually working at the moment, have you?”