Page 51 of In the Bones
“Don’t worry, I won’t embarrass you,” Blair said. “But he thinks my dad’s involved in a crime, Nash. I can’t just let that go.” She needed to talk to Mikko, to make him understand, and she had to do it fast. If he gave a statement to the press right now, outside the hotel, would Blair have the courage to speak up? Would shoutinghe’s lying!make any difference? Would it make things worse? She didn’t have the time to wonder, because at that moment a murmur rose up from the crowd. When it parted, there was Mikko.
“It’s him,” she said, breathless. “What should we do?”
“We?” Nash fired back. “You’re the one who wanted to come!”
In the shade of the vast four-story hotel, Mikko was talking and laughing. Blair had never seen a guy look that relaxed. Maybe it was an act performed for the fans. He had seemed a lot more stressed the previous night.
A few minutes passed, and then Mikko was heading their way. He was wearing another expensive-looking T-shirt, and his muscles rolled under the fabric. When he was a few steps from his Tesla, the same one she’d seen at Island Adventure, she braced herself.
“Come save me if it looks like trouble,” she told Nash.
Before he could answer, she was lurching away from her car.
“Mr. Helle?” Blair hated how timid she sounded, how weak. He’d turned, though, and was watching her approach him, a smile tugging at his lips.
“Sorry to bother you,” she managed, “but I’m a big fan. Do you think I could get your autograph?”
The smile broadened. “Of course,” Mikko said, glancing behind her in a way that made Blair feel like he was checking to see if she was alone. “Do you have a pen?”
“Shit. No, I’m sorry.”
“That’s OK. I have something better.” He reached into themessenger bag that was slung across his shoulder, and for a split second, she wanted nothing more than to run.
What Mikko pulled out was a hockey card. Blair didn’t know much about those, but she got the sense that he was doing something special by signing one for her. He kept glancing up as he scribbled his name, and not just at her face. Blair was starting to regret wearing a V-neck top with her skirt.
“Oh wow,” she said when he handed it over. “This is amazing. Thank you.”
“What’s your name?”
“Blair.”
“Local, or just visiting?” He angled his head.
“Local.”
“Ah! Well,” he said, “I hope to see you around, Blair. I live in Cape Vincent, near Tibbetts Point. It’s the big white house with the black trim. I’m going to be having some parties this summer. Maybe you can stop by.”
“Wait.” He’d turned to go, ready to get on with his day, but Blair had stepped in front of him. The thin skin of her throat was aflame. “I wanted to say …”Why did you accuse my father of murder?“I think you know my dad?”
That seemed to interest Helle. “Oh yes?”
“Yeah. He mentioned you the other day, actually. He was talking about how much he respects you. Professionally, I mean.”
Mikko squared his shoulders and dialed up his smile. “That’s very kind of him. What did you say his name was?”
“Woody,” said Blair. “Woody Durham.”
Some people are good at hiding in plain sight. They shutter their eyes. Shut down. You can’t get so much as a glimpse at what’s inside. That was Mikko Helle the moment Blair spoke Woody’s name, and it came across as practiced. He’d done this before.
If they lie about the little things,they’ll lie about it all.
“I’m sorry,” said Mikko. “I don’t know who you mean.”
Blair wrapped her arms around her waist as he got in the Tesla and hummed away.
She found Nash crouching down behind his car, determinednot to let her humiliate him. She felt slimy all over, like she needed to take another shower.
“How did it go?” he asked.
