“Stupid woman,” muttered Jean Guy as he entered the kitchen. He grabbed a dish towel from the rack and began furiously drying a plate. Gamache figured that was the last they’d see of the India Tree design. “Tell me she’s adopted.” “No, homemade.” Reine-Marie handed the next plate to her husband. “Screw you.” Annie’s dark head shot into the kitchen then disappeared. “Bless her heart,” said Reine-Marie.
