Chapter Twenty-Five
TWENTY-FIVE
Mac
Castle View at night was magic, and that was entirely about the view.
On Heart Island, just off the mainland, Boldt Castle was framed in the resort’s wall of windows, its medieval-style towers illuminated by an infantry of exterior lights.
Mac had never been to Paris—the only traveling she’d done was stateside, unless you counted that cruise to St. Thomas she took with a former boyfriend—but she’d heard going up the Eiffel Tower was overrated.
It wasn’t the tower that offered the best vistas, but an ugly office building across the city.
Castle View was a little like that. Sure, it was nice to visit Heart Island, but the best angle of its famed Gilded Age home was from across the river in Alexandria Bay.
She’d come early to make sure everything was set for the party.
Mac hadn’t anticipated help from Woody, and he hadn’t offered it.
It was she who’d picked out the food and signature cocktail—a tequila sunrise, Nicole’s favorite—but she was happy to see everything was in place, from the buffet along the back wall of the room to the white tablecloths splashed with handfuls of glitter in Nicole’s favorite shade of periwinkle blue.
Literally all Woody had to do was deliver Nic and the girls, and still Mac worried that he’d drop the ball.
She hadn’t always distrusted Woody Durham.
For years, she’d felt he was a good partner for Nicole.
He’d always doted on his wife, telling her she looked nice and praising her cooking.
He was a hands-on dad too, the kind who played in the yard with the kids and knew their friends’ and teachers’ names.
Mac had spent many a Christmas wearing a perma-grin as she watched Woody hand out gifts to his family, some of which he’d made in his woodshop.
He’d built Mac a jewelry box once, a beautiful thing crafted from cherry wood that had been precious to her, though she didn’t even have pierced ears.
Now, when she looked at it, all she could think about was the pain he’d caused her sister and all the uncertainty still to come.
The guests began to arrive at seven, carloads of Nicole’s friends and former coworkers, along with Blair’s boyfriend and Alana’s bestie since grade school.
Mac had budgeted half an hour for everyone to get settled before Nicole pulled up, so when she spotted Stacy chatting with Nash, she waved and headed over.
Stacy had slicked back her hair for the occasion, and it highlighted the angles of her face.
She was a beautiful woman, but Mac had always thought she looked a bit too gaunt.
Those cheekbones alone were sharp enough to cut glass.
Nash had come wearing a sport coat, which Mac thought was a nice touch, and he said a quick hello before going on his way.
As soon as he was gone, Mac and Stacy cut a path to the bar.
“It’s been too long,” Mac began to tell Stacy before Caleb, who’d been sprinting around the dance floor, collided with her legs. “Oof! Hey buddy, did you know there are chicken tenders at the buffet?”
“I love chicken tenders!” the boy shouted.
“Go ahead,” Stacy told her son and Caleb was off, windmilling his arms as he went. “This is amazing, Maureen, seriously. What’s the over-under on whether Nic knows?”
“I’m really hoping not,” Mac said as she handed Stacy a pre-mixed tequila sunrise. “But if she does, she’ll fake it. Have you seen her today?”
Stacy shook her head and sipped from the grenadine-tinted drink. “Not since last night at The Brig. She was pretty upset.”
“Dead bodies will do that. I honestly thought about cancelling this, but the deposit was nonrefundable.” Mac cast a glance around the room, which hummed with boisterous energy. “I’m hoping it’ll serve as a distraction.”
“I think you were right to stick with the plan,” Stacy told her, eyes roving over the crowd. “This will help. It was really sweet of you to arrange it. Wish I’d thought of it first.” She gave Mac a nudge as she said it, showing off teeth as straight and white as a skeleton’s smile.
“There’s always her fiftieth,” Mac replied with a wink. She was about to tell Stacy she’d done enough for Nicole with her constant client referrals, but the memory of Mikko Helle and his cellar of horrors stopped her short.
And then, at last, there was Woody, peeking through the double doors. “They’re here!” Mac said in a stage whisper.
Fluffing her hair as she seized the drink earmarked for her sister, Mac hurried across the room and flung open the doors.