Page 42 of In the Bones
“He sells merchandise online, yes,” said Mac. “It’s a side business, really. He owns Island Ad—”
“Right. Well, I don’t know if you’re aware, but there aresome rumors making the rounds. As I heard it, the products he’s selling may not be legitimate.”
What the hell?Mac’s gaze shot to the nearest group of people, eager to make sure they hadn’t overheard. “What kind of products?”
“Purses, for one thing. Designer bags that are, in fact, knockoffs. Fakes being sold as authentic goods.”
Mac couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Counterfeit scams cropped up from time to time, but they usually involved fake money and drifters skipping town before the local retailers wised up. Mac had never encountered anyone in the area who was running a scam like the one Bruce Milton was describing, yet here he was, saddling Woody with a counterfeit charge.
“That sounds like hearsay to me,” she replied. “You wouldn’t be trying to run a dirty campaign, would you Bruce? Smearing my family to throw my integrity into question?”
“Maureen, you should know me better than that.” He said it with a smirk. “Look into it if you don’t believe me, but I think you’ll be disappointed by what you find. And I know that voters would be disappointed to hear that their sheriff, a woman who claims to be the authority on law enforcement in Jefferson County, can’t keep crime out of her own family.”
Adjusting his tie, Bruce Milton gave her a wink and walked out the door. She watched as, in the hall, a man intercepted him. He was very tall, approaching seven feet, and sharply dressed in a navy button-down. He shook Bruce’s hand with enthusiasm, and whatever it was that the man whispered in Bruce’s ear, it elicited a self-approving smile.
Mac could feel her stress in her teeth, the ache akin to biting down on frosted steel. If there was any truth to what he was saying, what Woody had cooked up had the potential to be dangerous.
And not just for her brother-in-law.
THIRTY-SIX
Tim
Woody and Nicole. Nicole and Woody. They were part of this, stuck deep. Shana’s revelation had left Tim feeling unsteady, as if whatever hold he’d had on the case was slipping from his grasp.
Shana had called Mac, who was on her way from Watertown. Shana hoped to get more information about the alleged infidelity before interviewing Woody. For his part, Tim was still piecing together the events that had brought Angelica Patten to the house near Tibbetts Point, and that meant reinterviewing Mikko Helle.
When the man arrived at the barracks, strutting into the interview room clad in athleisure wear and a stretchy headband that pushed back his platinum bangs, Tim was surprised to find he was alone. With no probable cause for an arrest yet, Mikko had no reason to bring an attorney, but he’d struck Tim as the type to lawyer up. He hoped that, for the moment, Mikko still felt he could speak freely.
“They look familiar,” Mikko said when Tim showed him the faded, curling photographs of Angelica and Molly that Claudia Patten had allowed him to take from her daughter’s bedroom wall. “I couldn’t say why. I meet a lot of people.”
“Even up here?”
“Sure. If I am to live here every summer,” he said, showing Tim his palms, “I want to know my neighbors.”
As the hockey star spoke, Tim’s eyes went to his left ring finger. He hadn’t noticed it before, but there was a tattoo there. A U.S. dollar sign, shaped to look like a ring.
“These women,” Mikko said. “They were in my house?”
“They were. The question is when.” Tim had pondered that for days. Molly seemed to know Mikko Helle, but did Mikkoknow Molly? And when, exactly, had the women and Mikko crossed paths? “What were you doing last Labor Day weekend, Mr. Helle?”
A moment passed before the man said, “Ah. You’re talking about my party.”
The problem with questioning suspects was that you had to know which questions to ask. It hadn’t occurred to Tim that a man who was brand new to the area would throw a party at a house he hadn’t moved into yet. It seemed that was exactly what Mikko had done, and on the same weekend Angelica and Molly were in town. “How many people were at this party?” Tim asked.
“Oh, very many. It was right after I took possession of the home. The old owner died—I told you that. She left pretty much everything behind. Really ugly shit.” He said it with a chuckle. “I was going to have the workers throw it away, but I thought, why not have some people over first? I didn’t care if the place got messed up. It was going to be gutted anyway. The house was mine. It felt like the time for a celebration.”
“Can you make a list of who was in attendance?”
He laughed again. “It would be a short list. It’s like I said, most of the people I invited were from around town. It was … spontaneous, you know what I mean? Some, I didn’t even know their names.”
“Molly Kranz knew yours,” said Tim.
Mikko shrugged. “Many people know who I am.”
Tim could feel the tips of his ears going red, his frustration mounting. “What about Woody Durham?” he asked, thinking again of what Shana had told him. Angelica’s body was left in the house, and Woody supposedly knew her on an intimate level. “Was he at the party?”
“Oh, yes. Woody’s a friend.”
