Page 29 of In the Bones
Shana agreed, and thanked the group. Before they could gather their things and leave, Solomon cleared his throat.
“I know we’re overextended as it is,” he said, “but I thought you guys should know that someone called this morning to report retail theft.”
“Retail theft?” Tim repeated. “That sounds like a job for the village police.” He often wondered why the New York State Police got so many calls about issues outside of their purview—noise complaints, nosy neighbors, the works—but Tim supposed it had something to do with resources. The local police departments were understaffed, the stations often empty. Most citizens had learned to call county dispatch for an on-duty officer if they needed help.
“Normally, I’d have transferred it,” said Sol. “But the complaint was about Woody Durham.”
“Woody?” The name tumbled from Shana’s mouth, accompanied by a deep frown. “What exactly did they say?”
Sol explained that an anonymous caller had seen the interiorof the Durhams’ garage and noticed a large number of unopened boxes. “All brand-name consumer merchandise. He had some wild theories about it, my favorite being that Woody held up a Walmart driver and stole his whole load. Seems like we would have heard about a cargo heist.”
“Follow up on that please, would you Sol?” Shana said, looking a little distressed. “You’re right, we don’t have ample time on our hands, but I’d like to know how this pans out.”
Tim felt the same way. Neither he nor Shana knew Woody Durham well—Tim wasn’t sure he’d ever formally met the guy—but Woody was Mac’s brother-in-law, and Mac was practically family. In a small community like theirs, it wasn’t uncommon to cross paths with people they knew while on the job. Tim had once responded to a nasty watercraft collision that took the life of his longtime dentist. In his days as a trooper, he’d arrived at a drug raid to find a kid from his high school class grown up, tatted up, and brooding on fifteen pounds of meth.
He hoped whoever reported Woody Durham had it wrong. Given Tim’s recent interaction with Nicole, and the party that Mac had invited them to, things could get awkward—and fast.
TWENTY-FIVE
Mac
Castle View at night was magic, and that was entirely about the view. On Heart Island, just off the mainland, Boldt Castle was framed in the resort’s wall of windows, its medieval-style towers illuminated by an infantry of exterior lights. Mac had never been to Paris—the only traveling she’d done was stateside, unless you counted that cruise to St. Thomas she took with a former boyfriend—but she’d heard going up the Eiffel Tower was overrated. It wasn’t the tower that offered the best vistas, but an ugly office building across the city. Castle View was a little like that. Sure, it was nice to visit Heart Island, but the best angle of its famed Gilded Age home was from across the river in Alexandria Bay.
She’d come early to make sure everything was set for the party. Mac hadn’t anticipated help from Woody, and he hadn’t offered it. It was she who’d picked out the food and signature cocktail—a tequila sunrise, Nicole’s favorite—but she was happy to see everything was in place, from the buffet along the back wall of the room to the white tablecloths splashed with handfuls of glitter in Nicole’s favorite shade of periwinkle blue. Literally all Woody had to do was deliver Nic and the girls, and still Mac worried that he’d drop the ball.
She hadn’t always distrusted Woody Durham. For years, she’d felt he was a good partner for Nicole. He’d always doted on his wife, telling her she looked nice and praising her cooking. He was a hands-on dad too, the kind who played in the yard with the kids and knew their friends’ and teachers’ names. Mac had spent many a Christmas wearing a perma-grin as she watched Woody hand out gifts to his family, some of which he’d made in his woodshop. He’d built Mac a jewelry box once, a beautiful thing crafted from cherry wood that had beenprecious to her, though she didn’t even have pierced ears. Now, when she looked at it, all she could think about was the pain he’d caused her sister and all the uncertainty still to come.
The guests began to arrive at seven, carloads of Nicole’s friends and former coworkers, along with Blair’s boyfriend and Alana’s bestie since grade school. Mac had budgeted half an hour for everyone to get settled before Nicole pulled up, so when she spotted Stacy chatting with Nash, she waved and headed over. Stacy had slicked back her hair for the occasion, and it highlighted the angles of her face. She was a beautiful woman, but Mac had always thought she looked a bit too gaunt. Those cheekbones alone were sharp enough to cut glass. Nash had come wearing a sport coat, which Mac thought was a nice touch, and he said a quick hello before going on his way. As soon as he was gone, Mac and Stacy cut a path to the bar.
“It’s been too long,” Mac began to tell Stacy before Caleb, who’d been sprinting around the dance floor, collided with her legs. “Oof! Hey buddy, did you know there are chicken tenders at the buffet?”
“I love chicken tenders!” the boy shouted.
“Go ahead,” Stacy told her son and Caleb was off, windmilling his arms as he went. “This is amazing, Maureen, seriously. What’s the over-under on whether Nic knows?”
“I’m really hoping not,” Mac said as she handed Stacy a pre-mixed tequila sunrise. “But if she does, she’ll fake it. Have you seen her today?”
Stacy shook her head and sipped from the grenadine-tinted drink. “Not since last night at The Brig. She was pretty upset.”
“Dead bodies will do that. I honestly thought about cancelling this, but the deposit was nonrefundable.” Mac cast a glance around the room, which hummed with boisterous energy. “I’m hoping it’ll serve as a distraction.”
“I think you were right to stick with the plan,” Stacy told her, eyes roving over the crowd. “This will help. It was really sweet of you to arrange it. Wish I’d thought of it first.” She gave Mac a nudge as she said it, showing off teeth as straight and white as a skeleton’s smile.
“There’s always her fiftieth,” Mac replied with a wink. Shewas about to tell Stacy she’d done enough for Nicole with her constant client referrals, but the memory of Mikko Helle and his cellar of horrors stopped her short.
And then, at last, there was Woody, peeking through the double doors. “They’re here!” Mac said in a stage whisper.
Fluffing her hair as she seized the drink earmarked for her sister, Mac hurried across the room and flung open the doors.
TWENTY-SIX
Nicole
Nicole didn’t need another tequila sunrise, especially after her drinking binge the previous night, but that didn’t stop her from lining up for her third cocktail. It was a party, after all—herparty—and hadn’t she earned it? In the past twenty-four hours alone, she’d come face to face with an intruder, been steps away from a murder victim, and learned the man who’d taken all her family’s savings might be going to prison before Nicole could get it back.
If ever she needed a drink, it was now.
As she waited for her turn at the bar, bobbing her head to Duran Duran, she surveyed the room. Maureen really had thought of everything, right down to the playlist of Nicole’s favorite songs. “You,” she’d said, teary-eyed, when she saw her sister at the front of the crowd. “I can’t believe you did this.”
