Page 68 of In the Bones
“Who?”
“Gi—” Far as I knew, I was the only person who called her Gigi. My friend was quick and light and nothing like the name her parents gave her. Plus, the nickname reminded me of Jenny. “Angelica,” I amended, punching up the first syllable, as if that might entice him to care. “My friend? The girl I came with?”
“Oh. No.” He was already turning away. Beside him, the pretty blonde woman shrugged and lifted her glass to her lips.
“Mikko.” There was a panicky pitch to my voice, but I didn’t care. It was almost three in the morning, and I couldn’t find Gigi anywhere. Couldn’t reach her, either. Whether her phone had died again or it was the iffy cell service, my calls keptdropping. “Can you help me look?” I pleaded, but he was head down with the woman again. Surrendering to the liquor and pills addling his brain. Consumed by the woman’s gray smile.
I wasn’t in much better shape. All the giddy excitement I’d felt when we arrived was gone. Same people, same faces, every one strange to me, but their apathy felt dangerous now, their oblivion cruel.
Where had I last seen her? She’d been with Woody for most of the night. Sweet, fatherly Woody. There were plenty of prospects around, but Gigi had glommed onto the one guy in the place who was twice her age, and she’d spent most of the evening talking to him about her father. That was fine. It was what she needed. But I’d been up to the second floor. While looking for Gigi, I’d seen Woody face down on a four-poster bed in one of the guest rooms, his arm dangling off the edge. Again and again I’d searched those rooms, and every time Woody was still right there. So where was Gigi?
As I walked away from useless Mikko, a memory hit like a flash-bulb. There had been a moment, several hours before, when I’d caught sight of her on my way to the bar. No more Woody; she was standing in the hall near the door to the basement, talking to a guy I hadn’t seen before. His arm was out against the wall, blocking her path. Her smile was polite but wary. Then a couple had stumbled into the kitchen, momentarily blocking my view, and when they shifted positions, Gigi and the guy were gone.
Eventually, I couldn’t stay awake any longer. When I opened my eyes again it was morning, the last of the guests as ugly and sour as the sediment left behind by red wine. I knew right away there were parts of the night that were lost to me forever, but not everything. The face of the guy I’d last seen Gigi with burned bright.
That’s why I’m here now. Why I came back, and why I stayed.
For Gigi’s sake, I had to find him.
FIFTY-SEVEN
Mac
The red Corolla pulled into her driveway just as Mac was about to leave for work.
“Blair, honey,” she said when her niece had parked and met Mac at the door. “What are you doing here? Is everything OK?”
“It’s fine,” said Blair. “Really good, actually. Do you have a sec?”
Mac waved her inside. “You just missed your dad.”
“Oh,” she said, looking startled. “I thought he was at work. Is everything OK?”
“We’ll see,” Mac answered honestly. She’d found Woody a good lawyer, insisting that she’d cover the cost, but despite Shana’s efforts to clear him of suspicion, the man had no alibi and Stacy, a credible eyewitness, was still claiming she’d seen him in bed with Angelica. Woody remained the prime suspect.
Blair said, “My dad is kind of the reason I’m here.”
Mac knew the second they sat down in the living room that she was going to be late to the office. She listened as Blair told her about finding Molly Kranz in the garage and talking to her about Angelica Patten.
“Jesus,” Mac said. “Blair, you should have called me. That woman could be dangerous.”
“She’s not,” Blair replied. “She told me everything about the night Angelica was killed. Dad didn’t do it, Maureen—he couldn’t have. He drank a ton and passed out in one of the bedrooms. Molly saw him herself.”
Mac tilted her head. If she had her facts straight, Stacy had called Nicole the morning after that party to break the news that she’d caught Woody in bed with another woman. Could Stacy Peel really have gotten it wrong?
“She can help clear Dad’s name,” Blair said urgently. “She’s a witness—right? Molly can tell Tim and Shana that Dad isn’t guilty. Hang on.”
Blair was getting a call. Mac hoped it was Nicole or Woody on the line, but as soon as Blair started to talk, Mac knew it was one of her friends.
“Hey.” Blair listened for a moment before speaking. “You did? When? Yeah.” She glanced at her aunt. “Don’t worry, I know. She’s not dangerous.” Another pause. “I’m at Maureen’s. I don’t know, there’s some shit going down.” Again, Blair looked Mac’s way, this time contrite as she mouthed the wordsorry. “OK. OK, bye. That was Nash,” Blair told Mac. “He just saw Molly leaving our house. He recognized her from the video too.”
“Better keep this to ourselves for the time being,” she replied, wishing she’d issued the warning before Nash’s call. “Where’s Molly now?” The woman would need to be found, and quickly.
“If she left, I’m not really sure. You know that abandoned house a few blocks from ours? The one that’s all overgrown? That’s where she hid her car, but she’s been camping out in our garage for a couple of days.”
“A couple ofdays?Jesus. Why?” How on earth had Molly Kranz found her way to Woody and Nicole’s?
“She was looking for Dad,” Blair said. “She wants to talk to him about the night that Angelica died. She thinks she knows who killed her.” Blair’s eyes were bright now, sparking like pennies in the sun. “The whole time she’s been up here, all these months, she’s been driving around searching for the guy she saw with Angelica that night. She didn’t like the way he was acting with her. Molly never got his name, but he was wearing a shirt with the logo of some construction company. Molly thinks the guy’s a friend of Mikko’s.”
