Page 63 of Mountain Impact

His flashlight was dying, its small light now yellow and faint, but it would last them the night. Drake kept it on because he wanted―no, he needed―to see Isolde. To know that she was really okay. He’d been given a second chance with her, and he wasn’t going to mess it up.

Chapter 19

Isolde

Isolde hobbled out of the shower, feeling more human than she had going in, even though her body was bruised and sore.

She was fine, of course―at Drake’s insistence, she’d been checked out by Jens in the helicopter, then again by a doctor at the hospital.

The last time she’d seen Drake had been at the hospital. It’d been his turn to get his arm checked out, which she understood was code for something painful―Isolde had wanted to stay with him, but one of the hospital psychiatrists had chosen that exact moment to ask her questions about Amélie.

She’d been grilled for two hours, by the psychiatrist and by a policewoman, until she’d asked them if she could please go home, shower, and continue the conversation later on. At that point, they’d run out of questions.

Isolde dried herself briskly. Although her body probably needed the pampering now more than ever, she was in too much of a rush to bother with body moisturizer or with blow drying her hair. Instead, she left her hair loose, and used a dark blue velvet headband to keep it out of her eyes. She dressed quickly in black pants and a long-sleeved top that covered some of her bruises and scrapes, grabbed her large handbag, and went outside.

Puddles on the ground all the way to the car showed her just how bad the storm had been, even down here―up there in the mountains, she wasn’t sure she would have survived the night, even if she had been able to escape Amélie.

Recognizing the gritty feeling behind her eyes as exhaustion, Isolde drove carefully.

It was lunchtime on a Saturday, and she made it all the way up the elevator and into her office without seeing anybody. She sat down gratefully and opened her laptop.

Less than two minutes later, Colonel Pelegrin himself knocked on her door.

The colonel was the kind of man who rarely raised his voice―he didn’t need to.

“Dr. Durant,” he said, “What are you doing here?”

“I’m working, Colonel,” she said. “I often work on Saturday mornings.” She didn’t want to be coddled. “Just because I was stupid enough to almost get killed out there, doesn’t mean―”

“Let me stop you right there. What you did was not stupid. It was foolhardy―”

“I called the PGHM,” she reminded him.

“You called one man. When he didn’t answer, you should have called the PGHM hotline and had a team come with you to find Madame Omont.” He raised his hand, ending the discussion. “But I didn’t come here to argue with you. I’m here to ask why you’re not taking the day off and resting, the way the doctors asked you to.”

Isolde blushed.

“You’re part of my team, Isolde. We need you back in top form. So take some time off.”

Isolde felt tears pooling in the back of her eyes and blinked them away. She’d rather die than cry in front of her boss, a man who’d probably never shed a tear in his life.

“There’s something I need to jot down, Colonel. An idea I came up with last night …”

He seemed curious―and also aware that she wasn’t going to let it go.

“Tell me about this idea,” he said, sitting down in one of the chairs in front of her.

“Amélie Omont was … “ Isolde swallowed. Her tongue felt thick in her mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“Take your time, Isolde. We’re in no rush.”

Isolde nodded. The plan had come to her at night, just before she’d fallen asleep on Drake’s shoulder.

“We have an awareness and prevention program in place for all gendarmes.”

The colonel nodded, encouraging her to continue.

“Exceptionally, we work with families as well―we’ve helped coordinate couples’ counseling, several times, for gendarmes who were going through a rough patch in their marriage, for example. But we don’t have a formal program in place for families―and we should, Colonel. When you see what Pierre Omont’s death did to Amélie … and all she got from us were flowers and a card after his death. She’s been alone this whole year, trying to cope with her grief―”