Page 3 of In the Bones
“A teammate told me about this place,” he said. “I like to be by the water.”
“Well, you’re lucky to have found a property so fast. Waterfront inventory’s really limited.” It was the same lineshe’d used on countless potential homebuyers while dropping in on Stacy’s open houses, expectant faces blurred together in an indistinct mass.
Back in the formal living room at the front of the house, Mikko swung around to face the river. Despite being removed from it by the road, the only one that ran the length of the peninsula to Tibbetts Point, the water view was unobstructed. A boat passed by, sending up a spray so glittery and sun-splashed that Nicole could almost feel it stippling her legs. In the distance, the wind turbines of Wolfe Island made lazy turns where they stood like stark white sentinels keeping watch over the islands. While Mikko had his back turned, Nicole scanned the room, taking note of the other built-ins that would soon be used for storage.
Only then did she see the woman.
Frozen on the staircase. Stalled mid-step to watch through the doorway that separated the living room from the wide front hall. She was lithe and well-dressed and she looked at Nicole as if she saw straight through her, like Nicole’s calculated duplicity was as plain as the insecure smile on her face. Hadn’t Stacy said she thought Mikko was single? The woman was barefoot, the ends of her black, chin-length hair damp. Her tank top was fused to her body like a second skin, tucked into jean shorts with a frayed hem.
“Hey,” Mikko said when he saw her, “there you are. This is the cleaning lady I was telling you about. Nicole McIntyre.”
The surname gave Nicole a start. She’d forgotten it was how she’d been introduced to Mikko, having told Stacy that she worked under her maiden name. The woman, Mikko said, was Eva Ki, and she was his girlfriend. Her smile was weak as she studied Nicole, softer now from motherhood and middle age.
Was this woman going to live here for the summer too? The question gurgled in Nicole’s throat, but she forced it back down.
Mikko said, “I move in Friday. Did I tell you this?”
“Yes,” said Nicole, noting Mikko’s use of the wordI.
“We’ve been staying at the hotel in Clayton. You know it? The big one on the water?”
There was only one big hotel on the water in Clayton, and Nicole had spent more hours cleaning it than she could count. She wondered if Mikko had heard a word she’d said.
“I’m ready to be done with all that,” he went on. “Ready to settle in. The movers are coming early. Does that leave you enough time?”
“Totally. I’ll be back first thing tomorrow, and I only need one day.”
“With your crew?” Eva asked quietly.
“Nope, it’s just me.” Infusing her voice with forced cheer, Nicole added, “I know it’s a big job, but when I’m done, you’ll think I brought in my own army.”
“Whatever it takes,” Mikko told her, but Eva’s uncertainty was impossible to miss.
The woman’s existence changed nothing for Nicole. She’d already been hired. Sleek, silent Eva was not a threat. Still, her presence in the house was unnerving. It was the way she’d been watching Nicole from those stairs undetected, how she’d hurried to stand by Mikko’s side, as if giving Nicole a wide berth.
For reasons Nicole couldn’t discern, Eva didn’t seem to want her in the house.
The one place Nicole so badly needed to be.
FOUR
Mac
The air outside Island Adventure Mini Putt was infused with the smell of boiled hot dogs, so salty and pungent that Maureen McIntyre’s mouth watered against her will. Adding the concession stand had been Woody’s idea: give the people access to food, and they’ll stick around longer. Make an event of it. Ten days before Memorial Day weekend, though, there were still no takers, the greens empty and the blades on the replica wind turbine making sluggish circles against a pale blue sky. Not yet the high season, but Woody always opened early for the locals.
Today, the quiet was just what the sheriff of Jefferson County had been hoping for.
She found Nicole’s husband sitting behind the counter, square between a rack of putters and the stainless-steel cooker on which two pathetic-looking sausages glistened with oil. Woody was watching a game show on the small TV mounted in the corner, theding-ding-dingof winning answers an assault on Mac’s ears.
“Maureen, hey. You should have called; I’m drowning in here.” A beat passed before he laughed, the smile falling short of his eyes. One thing about Woody Durham was that he’d aged well. Mac’s brother-in-law had always been attractive in a boyish kind of way, with a strong hairline and lively baby blues. The weight he’d put on since high school suited him, broadening his arms and shoulders rather than settling in his gut. Men, she thought, have all the luck, and most don’t deserve it.
“Glad I beat the rush,” Mac volleyed. “I was hoping to get you alone.”
“Alone, huh? Sounds ominous. Should I start guessing what I did wrong now, or do you have plans for the rest of the week?”
Mac smiled. Something else about Woody was that he had a nervous tic. As he spoke, he popped his jaw over and over, the sound halfway between the crack of knuckles and the smack of bubblegum. “It’s about Nicole’s party,” she told him. “I wanted to make sure we’re still on track.”
Nearly four years ago, when Mac had turned fifty, her friend and colleague Shana Merchant had organized a surprise celebration. It was the last thing Mac had been expecting. The Troop D team had just come off an intense missing person case, the perp still at large, yet Shana—who’d been leading the investigation—had managed to lure Mac to the Riverboat Pub where a dozen of her closest friends waited with drinks and noise makers in hand. Mac had never been the party type, but she’d had such a good time that she swore she’d pay the effort forward. Her sister was turning forty-five, not exactly a milestone birthday, but that’s how Mac was going to pull off the surprise.
