Page 36 of In the Bones
She was about to call him when her phone rang again.
“How’s the lady of the hour?”
“Leveled,” Nicole told Stacy. “I’m way too old for Club Med cocktails.”
“You and me both.” In the background, Nicole could hear one of Stacy’s colleagues talking. “My eye bags are big enough to hold my wallet. It was a fun night, though. Your sister’s the best.”
“She is,” Nicole agreed, the feeling of dread deepening.
“Did you see the news? Word’s out about the woman who was hiding at Mikko’s, but they haven’t mentioned the bones. You’re not working today, are you?”
“Tomorrow,” Nicole said. “Why?”
“Why?There’s a maniac out there who can walk through walls, and you work alone in big houses. She could be dangerous, Nic.”
When Nicole thought of it that way, she wasn’t especially jazzed about her chosen profession. Stacy wasn’t wrong; most of her clients went out when she arrived, leaving Nicole alone. The memory of the woman’s eye in the vent still provoked a crush of panic, but what choice did she have? This was her job, and she had to do it.
“She’s long gone by now,” Nicole said, as much to appease herself as her friend. “If the police haven’t found her yet, they probably never will.”
Nicole heard shuffling on the line, and a moment later there was street noise. Stacy had gone outside. “What do you mean?”
“She was about to get arrested for trespassing, remember? She might even be a murder suspect. If that was you, and you managed to escape, would you stick around and risk getting caught again?”
Stacy went quiet. “Well, I hope you’re right, because every minute she’s out there is another minute I’m afraid she’ll end up in my house next. Gotta run, but I wanted to ask about Mikko. What’s the latest there?”
“Oh.” Based on Nicole’s interview, the police were definitely looking into Mikko, but she had no idea whether he was in custody. She hadn’t spoken with him since Saturday, and didn’t know when—or if—she’d see him again. “I haven’t heard anything new,” she told Stacy. “But I’ll keep you posted. I’m sure I’ll talk to Maureen today at some point.”
“OK, yeah. Please do. If a client’s about to be charged with murder in connection to a house I sold him, I’d like to know.”
“Sheesh. What kind of damage control do you do for that?”
“You’ve got me,” she said. “Believe it or not, this situation wasn’t in the real estate handbook.”
Nicole promised to check in with Stacy later, and assured her that everything would be OK. As she ended the call, she thought once again of why she’d gone to Mikko Helle’s house in the first place.
A house with a secret only a killer should know.
THIRTY-ONE
Tim
“Five hours.”
Where he sat at his desk in the state police barracks, Tim looked up from his phone to see Shana.
“Huh?”
“Five hours,” she repeated, “until we see her again.”
Tim knew that saying goodbye to Darcy every day was hard for Shana, but for him the pain felt visceral, as real and debilitating as a broken limb. Shana often caught him like this, staring vacantly at his phone or out the window. Distracted. Glum.Separation anxiety, she’d called it, though Tim wasn’t a fan of the phrase. Wasn’t that something reserved for preschoolers? He was a grown-ass man, a cop. With each new day, though, he was tormented all over again, those troublesome fears digging their stiletto nails into his skin.
“Why can’t I just stay home with her?” he’d said more than once. “You handle the caseload, I’ll handle the kid.” He wasn’t serious—not entirely, anyway—but now that Darcy could walk and talk, leaving her was even more brutal. They were lucky that Tim had not one but two moms who were thrilled to help with childcare, Dori handling daytimes, while Courtney, who worked at the school, tagged in when she got home. Darcy wasn’t the first grandchild on the Wellington side, but Tim’s sister lived in New Hampshire, whereas Darcy was right up the street, and Tim’s mother and stepmom doted like she was their own. So yeah, Tim and Shana had it good.
Didn’t make it any easier to leave his baby girl behind.
Shana planted a kiss on the top of his head and propped herself on the edge of his desk.
“What’s the latest?”
