Chapter Thirty-Seven
THIRTY-SEVEN
Mac
The room had gone blurry at the edges, hemmed in by a murky haze. Shana gave an encouraging nod, and Mac focused on her friend’s face. The faint freckles that stippled her nose and cheekbones, and her eyes. They were soft and warm. Familiar.
She remembered exactly where she’d been when Nicole confessed what Woody had done.
Every week throughout the summer, the sisters hiked the nature trail at Otter Creek Preserve.
They’d been at the top of the wildlife observation tower, watching the shrubland for interesting birds, when Mac asked for the third time what was bothering her sister.
Nicole’s response? She thought her marriage might be over.
If Mac had to count, she guessed that half her girlfriends from high school were already divorced. Her own mother had left Mac’s dad when she was only six and never remarried, not even after Nicole was born. Eventually, she broke it off with Nicole’s dad too.
Infidelity was an epidemic, adultery akin to a common cold, but somehow Mac never expected that horror to befall Nicole and Woody.
Woody, who valued family and treasured his girls.
If asked to name a couple who’d make it to fifty years, Mac would have pointed to them without hesitation or a scrap of doubt.
But then, Nicole had told Mac that Woody had been unfaithful.
Stacy Peel had seen it with her own eyes.
“Nicole was a mess when she found out,” Mac went on.
“I was, too. I told her she should leave him. It was one night, one time, but we were raised to believe there’s no going back.
Once a cheater, always a cheater. Our mother taught us that.
But Nicole was adamant that the girls not find out.
She decided to stay with him, at least until they both left for college.
A stable home life—that was what she’d always promised herself she’d provide.
Things were funky in our house growing up, with the break-ups and Mom’s boyfriends.
Nicole said she wanted better for the girls.
The girls,” Mac repeated, her voice cracking.
“All these months I’ve been worried about them finding out, but my God, this will be so much worse.
” Nicole’s family was about to be scrutinized and analyzed, every aspect of Woody’s unseemly relationship with Angelica Patten laid bare.
Nicole had confronted Woody the same day she found out, but he’d denied it, swearing it wasn’t true.
Not until Nicole revealed there had been a witness did Woody break down.
He’d given her all the predictable excuses.
He’d been with a friend and things had gotten wild.
He was drunk, it was a moment of weakness, he didn’t mean to drive a proverbial stake into his wife’s heart.
That didn’t make his recklessness any easier to stomach.
When Nicole had pushed him for details—who, where, how—all Woody had said was that Angelica wasn’t local, and that, by Monday morning, she’d be gone.
Angelica hadn’t gone, though. The woman who’d come between Woody and Nicole hadn’t gotten farther than the basement belonging to Woody’s new business partner in the Rivermouth.
“I’m sorry,” said Shana, reaching for Mac’s hand. “I know this must be so hard, and it kills me that we weren’t there for you.”
It was several moments before Mac realized Shana was talking about the debate. As horrible as that had been, the call about Angelica Patten had scrubbed it from Mac’s mind.
But she hadn’t forgotten what Bruce Milton had said about Woody.
Mac explained the accusation, then listened with wonder as Shana told her about the anonymous call reporting a cache of consumer goods and suspicious behavior.
Mac had been hoping she could talk to Woody and invalidate the claim, or at least get an explanation.
Diffuse the threat, and move on. It was bad enough that Bruce had come by the information, but now the state police were involved, too.
“There’s something else you should know,” said Mac. “I just found out about it last night at the party. It could be related to all of this.”
She was deliberate with her account, careful to include every detail about the conversation she’d had with her brother-in-law.
The Rivermouth, his investment, Nicole’s knowledge of the deal.
“I tried calling both Nicole and Woody this morning, but they weren’t picking up.
I did get through to the Cape Vincent town supervisor, the guy who oversaw the auction.
I was able to confirm that Mikko Helle bought the Rivermouth Arena on September eighth.
It’s just Helle’s name on the deed, and he paid seven hundred thousand.
Woody’s contribution, whatever it was, can’t have been anywhere near that. ”
Shana didn’t know much about the Rivermouth, having grown up in Vermont, but Tim had mentioned it in passing. “It’s an ice rink, right?” she said.
“It used to be. It’s been closed for years, but all the local kids hung out there in high school.
Sounds like Helle’s ready to invest a fortune.
But it’ll cost a fortune to fix up.” Once again, Mac thought of Woody’s lazy eyes and mega-watt grin and wondered how much of the family’s savings he’d sunk into Mikko’s pipe dream.
“And Nicole didn’t say a word about this?” asked Shana. “I know you two are close.” She was trying hard to keep the pity at bay, but Mac sensed it in the round edges of Shana’s voice.
“That was the first I’d heard of it,” said Mac. “From my two-faced brother-in-law.”
Shana leaned back in her office chair, her forehead visibly creased. “So Woody goes into business with Helle, and immediately cheats on his wife with a tourist who’s murdered and hidden in Helle’s house. Shit, Mac,” she said, her cheeks pinking. “This doesn’t look good.”
“No,” Mac said weakly. “No, it doesn’t.”
“What about the fact that Nicole works for Helle? Did Woody mention that at all? It’s a strange setup, isn’t it? Nicole over there mopping her husband’s business partner’s floors?”
“He didn’t even mention Helle,” said Mac. “Despite the guy being a person of interest in the homicide.”
“But Nicole knows they’re in business together?”
“That’s what Woody said when I asked.” Mac remembered that. Of course she fucking knows, Woody had said.
“So why would Nicole take that job?” asked Shana.
That was one of the questions Mac had yet to resolve. The house, which had drawn so many people into its orbit, was central to her concern. Mikko Helle, Angelica Patten, Molly Kranz, Woody, Nicole … all had given in to the magnetic pull of Helle’s riverfront home.
Woody had said that Nicole knew about the investment.
But did Woody know Nicole was working for Mikko?
The night Mac had gone to their place for burgers, Nicole had waited until Woody was gone to talk about her new client.
There had been a tautness to her delivery when she described the strange noises. She’d never mentioned Mikko’s name.
“I don’t know why she did it,” Mac said now, “but I think it’s possible Nicole was hiding that fact from Woody. I need to talk to her.” Why hadn’t her sister returned her calls? Why wasn’t she at the debate? Her absence was worrisome.
Shana must have heard the distress in Mac’s voice, because her eyebrows had pulled toward her nose. “Let’s not panic yet. We haven’t questioned Woody. I’d like to talk to Nicole again too, find out exactly what she knows about his relationship with the girl. You OK?”
The office was cold, the ceiling vent blowing icy air even though it was too early in the season for A/C.
Mac felt as though she was standing on a high bluff, her toes inching toward the edge.
She hadn’t realized she was shaking until Shana stilled her trembling fingers with a firm grip on her dangling hand.
She said, “Don’t worry. We’ll get to the bottom of this. But Mac,” Shana added gently, “I have to ask. You know Woody … do you think he’s capable of this? Is there any possibility at all that he’s responsible for Angelica Patten’s murder?”
Mac knew her voice would break if she tried to speak, so instead, she got up from her chair and went to the office window.
Family was a curious thing. Some were bonded by blood, others by friendship, still others by profound, unyielding love.
For a quarter of a century, a little less than half her life, Mac had treated Woody like a brother.
There was little she’d withheld from him, little she’d failed to offer, and she’d come to know him well, this de facto sibling who’d sidled into her world.
Now, Mac couldn’t stop imagining what would become of Blair and Alana when they saw their father’s photo on 7 News Watertown.
Could she really have been so far off base?
The idea that she and her sister had been harboring a man whose judgment was so catastrophically skewed was unthinkable.
“He’s family,” she told Shana. “But …” The one-night stand. The counterfeit goods. Mac shook her head. “I really don’t know.”
“We’ll figure this out,” said Shana. “It’ll all be OK.”
Mac wanted to believe it, but her vision was fogging again, the BCI office that once was her own a smudgy beige blur.