Page 61 of Dominion’s Collar

"You're sure."

"The woman at Elysium had a sister who writes about murderers. Natalie writes about murderers. The questions she's asking, the people she's talking to, the time period she's focused on. The way she looks when she tilts her head." I turn from the window. "I'm sure."

Luc crosses back into the study. Sits down. Picks up the bourbon glass and stares at the empty bottom like it owes him something.

"The death was ruled accidental." He sets the glass down. "Natalie writes true crime. She's not here to write a memorial. She thinks someone murdered her sister."

The word settles into the room. Murdered. Not died. Not accidental.

"Yes," I say. "I think she does."

"So the woman wearing your collar is the sister of the woman who died. She's been hunting answers under your nose for weeks. And you collared her." He leans forward. "That's a lot of stupid in one sentence, Sebastien."

"I didn't know."

"You know now. What are you going to do about it?"

"I'm going to think."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one I have."

I come back to the desk and don't sit. My hands flatten on the surface, weight forward, and I stare at the page where Gaudet's name is circled twice.

"I can't unknow who she is," I say. "If I keep taking what she gives me without telling her what I know, the terms between us aren't the terms she agreed to."

"That's Dom math. I'm asking about the operational problem."

"The operational problem is that she's building a case I couldn't build alone. If I confront her now, I could scatter whatever she's assembled."

"Or you could give her your fragments and help her build the case more quickly and safely."

"Or she decides I've been withholding information from the moment I collared her and pulls the whole thing."

Luc leans back. Crosses his arms. "You're not worried about the case. You're worried about losing her."

He already knows the answer. I don't insult him by pretending otherwise.

"I'm going to say something you won't like," he says.

"You've been doing that all night."

"The woman you collared came to Dominion to find out who killed her sister. She's been lying to you since the first conversation. Every time she knelt, every time she surrendered, she was working you." He holds my gaze. "And you're standing there worried about betraying her trust."

"No."

Luc stops.

"She lied about why she came. She used the collar for access. I'll give you all of that."

I face him. "But what she gave me wasn't false. I've watched enough performance to know the difference. What happened on that Cross was real."

The room is quiet for a moment. Luc looks at me the way he looks at a problem whose parameters just changed.

"All right," he says. "So she's the real thing who came for the wrong reasons. That makes this worse, not better."

"I'm aware of that. But she asked me for help." My voice is quieter than I intended. I set the scotch down. "The sister. At Elysium. She asked whether trust should feel like what she was carrying, and I had a chance to ask one more question. I didn't."