TWENTY-TWO‘Who do you think killed CC?’ Myrna asked, l*****g her fork and taking a sip of rich dark coffee. The combination of freshly ground and brewed coffee and chocolate fudge cake made Myrna almost light-headed.
‘I think I first have to figure out who she was,’ admitted Gamache. ‘I think the murderer is hiding in her past.’ He told them then about CC and her fantasy world. Like a storyteller of old, Gamache spoke, his voice deep and calm. The friends formed a circle, their faces glowing amber in the light from the fireplace. They ate their cake and sipped their coffee, their eyes growing wider and wider as the depth of the mystery and deceit became clear.
‘So she wasn’t who she pretended to be,’ said Clara when he’d finished. She hoped triumph wasn’t evident in her voice. CC was nut
