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“That’s good music, no?” Nick said, smiling. “You like to dance to that?”
“I can two-step!” she said proudly.
“I saw. You’re a good dancer.”
“Can you dance?” she asked.
“I do all right. Who taught you to dance? Your brothers?”
“Sometimes. And my papa. He danced with me all the time.”
“Did he?”
“He’s dead, though,” she said. “He died. He’s gone to be with Jesus and Mary and Joseph.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I was sad,” she admitted. “Did you know my papa?”
“No, I did not. I’ve heard he was a very nice man.”
She said nothing for a moment, as if she were trying to make her final decision on his trustworthiness. Nick waited, looking out at the water. A cormorant bobbing on the surface suddenly dove under, coming back up with a small fish, which was quickly swallowed whole. The bird shook its head as if to hasten the fish’s trip down its gullet, then made its way up onto the end of the dock and spread its wings wide to dry off.
From the corner of his eye, Nick watched Noelle Mercier take a cautious step closer.
“I heard you’re a hard worker here,” he said.
She nodded. “I help clean up the boats, me,” she said. “And I sweep. I’m a good sweeper, me.”
“I bet you are. If you’re a good dancer, you’ll be a good sweeper, too.”
“I sweep at home, and I sweep here, and I sweep the office every day.”
“Really?” Nick asked. “You sweep the office across the road, too?”
Noelle nodded. “Every day. It’s a very important job.”
“I agree.”
She came a step closer. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Nick. I’m here to see your brother Luc.”
“You’re the po-po,” she said, giggling, pointing at the badge he wore on a chain around his neck.
“I am.”
“Luc, he don’t like the po-po!” she said with a big smile.
“Doesn’t he?” Nick asked. “Why is that?”
“I don’t know, but he says bad words when he sees one.”
“Well, he’s not in any trouble or anything,” Nick said. “I just need to ask him some questions.”
“Can I see?” she asked, pointing to his badge.
“Sure.”
