Page 49 of In the Bones
“They are,” she replied. “They have. But as far as I know, there’s no proof that he’s guilty either. Apparently, Angelica was one of many guests at that party. What motive would Mikko have to kill her? If we get to the point where you’re named in the press”—Nicole gasped when she said it, the prospect a gut-punch—“then Mikko Helle’s reputation could sway public opinion. He’s a celebrity, a wealthy man who cameto Cape Vincent to revive a beloved amusement center that’s been an eyesore for years. It’s only a matter of time before he starts giving interviews about his grand plans and all the jobs he’ll be creating for locals. And I know,” Maureen added as Woody opened his mouth; he’d been getting redder by the second, “you’re a local business owner too. People love you, Woody, always have. But something else has come to light that could complicate things.”
Nicole let out a snort. She couldn’t help herself. “How much more fucking complicated could this get?”
Maureen issued a sigh that seemed to knock the breath right out of her. “An anonymous call came into the barracks. Someone contacted the police to report suspicious activity in your garage.”
Knockoffs.Counterfeit goods. The words hit Nicole like darts. She’d tried to push her conversation with Janelle from her mind, refusing to believe that the woman could be right, but here was the accusation again, a virus that couldn’t be vanquished.
“A report has been filed, which means the police have to look into what’s going on. So Woody,” Maureen said, holding his gaze, “for the love of God, please tell me your online resale business is on the up-and-up.”
After nearly two decades together, Nicole knew her husband. She could tell when he was hiding something. He wasn’t a natural liar.
“It is,” Woody said flatly. “It’s totally legal. I don’t know what that caller is talking about.”
“Woody.” The edge in Maureen’s voice was sharp as a shard of glass. “If you lie about this, they’ll think you’re lying about everything.”
“I’m not lying,” said Woody. “I sell stuff online. Cheap stuff, for people who can’t afford the real thing. Imitations. Replicas.”
“And you’re transparent about it? People know what they’re getting?”
All at once, Woody’s face went crimson.
“Christ, Woody,” Maureen said, rolling back her head. “What you’re doing is a felony.”
“Someone reported me?” he stammered. “Who the hell would do that?”
“Whoever it was initially thought you’d robbed a retail truck. The whole thing would probably have been dismissed as a prank. Unfortunately for you,” Maureen said, “I have some well-connected enemies who got wind and looked into it.”
“I heard about it too,” said Nicole, ice water hurtling through her veins. “I got a call from a mom who said Woody sold her daughter, Blair’s friend, a fake purse.” She turned on him then. “How could you do this?”
“I didn’t sell to Blair’s friends! Do you think I’m an idiot? If this girl found my account and made a purchase, that’s on her.”
“You were running an illegal business here,” said Nicole. “In ourhouse.” It wasn’t much of a house, never had been, but Nicole had worked hard to make it a home for her family, and Woody had turned their safe space into a den of crime. Fury, hot and bright, bloomed in her chest. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“What I was thinking,” her husband said tightly, “is that we have bills, and they never stop coming. Last year? The new boiler? That thing cost ten fucking grand. We spend hundreds of dollars a week on groceries alone, and the kids always need things. I didn’tplanthis,” he went on, showing both women his empty hands. “It started out totally legit. But there was so much competition online …”
Numb with shock, Nicole listened as he itemized the challenges he’d faced, bleating about inventory, margins, app fees, and how, when all was said and done, it was only chump change.
“But I’ve doubled my income since I started working for myself,” Nicole said. “What about that money?”
“It’s not enough,” Woody replied. “It’s never enough.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Her palms felt wet. When she looked down, she saw she’d sloshed water all over them. Setting down the glass, Nicole wiped them on her jeans again and again, scouring her skin. Woody had always handled the finances. She knew they were never flush. She had no idea it was as bad as this.
“OK,” said Maureen, swooping in to de-escalate the situation. “So you’ll admit all of that in your interview—right away, before they even ask. You’ll explain that you made a mistake. This resale thing has nothing to do with Angelica Patten, right?”
“Right,” said Woody, not meeting her eye. “But all that stuff’s still right in the garage, and—”
Woody went white. The sliding door was halfway open, Blair’s silhouette a shadow hovering in the gloom.
“Hey,” she said. “Why are you guys sitting out here in the dark?” She was holding three pizzas, salty steam wafting from the boxes.
“It’s good for our eyes.” Maureen’s laugh was too high. “You’ll understand when you get older.”
“I thought it was the opposite.”
“Little miss know-it-all over here.” Woody tried for a chuckle that caught in his throat, sending him into a coughing fit. Blair’s eyes stayed on him for a long time.
“Anyway,” she said, drawing out the word, “Alana and I are gonna watch TV. Want me to grab some plates for you?”
