Page 76 of In the Bones
Tim had given up watching the road. His eyes were on Mac, whose baffled expression mirrored his own.
When Nicole was done talking, Mac said, “Nic, I hear you, but this doesn’t make sense.”
“I’m telling you, it’s true. Please,” she said, “please, you have to make sure she’s safe.”
“We will,” Mac said evenly, glancing at Tim. “We’re parking right now. I’ll call you soon.”
Through a whimper, Nicole had agreed to stand by.
Tim pulled up next to the two cars, and turned off the engine of his SUV.
“This is crazy,” said Mac.
“I agree. But if she’s right …” Tim shook his head. “He could be armed. We need to be ready.”
“Yeah. OK.”
In unison, they opened the doors.
SIXTY-THREE
Blair
“Boo.”
Blair wheeled at the sound, heart hammering. From where she stood next to the lighthouse, its white stucco exterior rough against her palm, Blair glared at Nash. “You scared the shit out of me,” she said. “I’m on edge enough as it is. I swear, Aunt Maureen’s going to kill me for coming all the way out here.”
Blair felt kind of guilty about that, but after leaving Watertown, Nash had called again and talked her into meeting him. Blair explained that she was supposed to go home. Tibbetts Point was almost forty minutes away. But Nash had sounded upset, and he was already in the area, so Blair had ignored her family’s calls, promising herself she’d get in touch as soon as she could.
“Are you OK?” she asked when Nash didn’t answer. His skin looked unusually pale. “You sounded weird on the phone.”
“I’m fine,” he said. “I was worried about you.” Nash had taken her hand and was squeezing her fingers. His palm felt clammy and hot. “Because of what happened with Molly.”
Blair smiled a little and nudged him. “You’re sweet. I’m good. She’s totally harmless. What are you even doing up here?” she asked as they walked toward the water. Nash lived in Theresa like her, just a few blocks away from the Durhams. He’d been in town that morning, she knew, because he’d seen Molly Kranz leaving her house. How had he ended up in Cape Vincent?
“It’s the internship,” Nash told her. “I needed to look at a house out here. Start of the busy season, and all that.”
“Did he let you off early?” Nash usually worked until mid-afternoon.
He didn’t answer. Since the beginning of the previous summer, he’d been working for a contractor named Terry Martino, who’d taken Nash under his wing. Nash loved the job, peeling houses down to the studs and transforming them, so much so that he’d asked if he could do his internship with Terry, maybe even come back full-time after graduation. It was the construction work Nash was after, but Terry had seen him interact with homeowners. Nash could be charming, that was for sure, and while his academic record wasn’t the greatest, he was good with numbers.
It was Terry who’d told Nash about construction management, and Blair had helped him find an affordable college that offered the program as a major. That had been one of the reasons Blair hadn’t fought her parents on staying in-state. She felt indebted to Terry, though she’d never even met him. When, eventually, she did, Blair figured she’d like the guy as much as Nash did. Terry and Stacy were dating, something Blair had found out by accident when he sent flowers to the real estate office. She’d watched Stacy hide his card and act all shifty, which Blair took to mean that she wasn’t supposed to know.
Since the night when they’d found out about the dead girl in Mikko’s basement, Blair had been thinking a lot about Nash. He’d been even more freaked out than Blair was, and with good reason. He’d gone to Mikko’s house a bunch of times with Terry while the renovation work was being done, and all that time the bones had been right under his feet.
Nash and Blair strode to the top of the peninsula and looked out at the water. Blair loved this part of the river, where it opened up into the lake. The rivermouth. That’s what it was called. Two bodies of water uniting. Different, but forced to coexist.
“I can’t believe that girl broke into your place,” Nash said now. “Why the hell did she do that? What did she say when you found her?”
Part of Blair wanted to tell him every word Molly had spoken, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Molly’s story had felt to Blair like a confession, intended only for her ears. It was one thing to share it with Maureen in order to protecther, but Nash looked a little too eager to hear it. Twitchy, like he was expecting a juicy bite of gossip. Blair didn’t like that at all.
“My dad’s innocent, Nash,” she told him instead, knowing he’d be just as relieved as she was. “Molly’s positive that he didn’t kill her friend.”
Blair had thought about that on the drive to Cape Vincent. Molly had shared so much in the garage, seated on a stack of boxes. Her insight was critical to Nicole’s family, probably more than Molly realized. If she’d only confessed what she knew days ago, when she got caught, Woody might never have been a suspect. At the same time, Blair could understand why she’d fled. What she’d been doing, breaking into other people’s houses and living there like they were her own, was illegal.
“The craziest part,” Blair went on, “is that all the time she’s been hiding out up here, Molly’s been looking for the killer. Other than my dad, she only saw Angelica talking to one guy all night. She doesn’t know his name. But yesterday, she saw him.”
Nash’s arm tensed and he yanked Blair’s hand, guiding her toward the cliff by the water’s edge. “No way,” he said. “Did she say where?”
