“I don’t think it’s a mistake. I don’t think the fear and concern in that transcript is a lie. You may have had ADHD or whatever, but that doesn’t make you a liar or a bad kid. And right now, that five-year-old kid is my best hope for solving this murder.”
She looked at him, even more vulnerable.
Maybe it was the vulnerability. Or a lot of other things put together—her looks, intelligence, mettle. Whatever it was, something shifted in his heart and it began to pound a little faster.
Shit.
If he were to make a list of the least suitable women for him in Riverton, Nicole Bosko would top the list. Nobody else would come close.
He stood up. “Want some coffee?”
“No thanks.”
He went to the kitchen, got a mug, and poured himself a cup of coffee. It was so wrong on so many counts, including the fact he’d just broken up with Marlee. He closed his eyes, massaged his neck to work out a kink.
Back in the office, he said, “There’s something else. I spoke with one of your mother’s friends yesterday. She confirms your mother had an affair.”
“But we knew about the affair. You just told me my father confirmed it.”
“Let me finish. She also said something to do with you had your mother worried.”
* * *
Nicky said, “Really? What else did she say?” For a minute, he didn’t say anything, just waited, watching her with those eyes. They looked a curious denim color in this light. If she didn’t look away right now, she’d be hypnotized.
Somewhere along the line he’d rolled up his shirt sleeves. Veins popped on his ripped arms and the room seemed way too small for that much manliness. She could practically smell the testosterone.
He said, “She didn’t recall very much, unfortunately, but she was left with the impression that your mother was scared that harm was going to come to you. But your mother wouldn’t tell her why. She said she was going to handle it. That’s why your memories are key. Your father and sister say they were unaware of these calls.”
“You think they’re lying?”
He shrugged. “It’s possible one or both of them are. I intend to find out.”
Why would her father lie? It didn’t make sense. Everybody knew a murdered woman’s husband was an easy suspect, but she didn’t believe for a moment he was capable of murder. She said, “My father had nothing to do with my mother’s death.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know him.” Even to her own ears, it sounded feeble. But it was true. “And he wouldn’t have hurt me. If he had, why kill my mother and not me? It doesn’t make sense.”
“Maybe you knew who the man she was having the affair with was.”
“But I didn’t. I’m sure of that. And I don’t know now.”
“Maybe you do. You said yourself it was a long time ago. Maybe you did but you have forgotten.”
“I don’t think so.” She shook her head. “Who is this friend? The woman you talked to who knew my mother?”
He flipped the pages on a notepad. “Isabel McMahon.”
A heavy feeling settled in her gut. Part of her had been hoping the woman had been some attention seeker who could be easily discounted. “I remember her. She lived down the road.”
He said, “Your sister confirmed she was a good friend of your mother’s. She said this woman would babysit the two of you sometimes.”
She nodded. An image came to mind of a short, plump woman with blond hair worn twisted around her head in a bun. “I haven’t thought of her in years. I think she was Norwegian.”
“That explains the accent. It’s still quite strong.” He cleared his throat. “Your mother didn’t tell her the man’s name or any details, but she did tell her she’d had an affair.”
“Had?”
“It had apparently been over for a couple of years when they talked about it, at least according to what your mother told her. She said your mother felt guilty.”
This only made things more confusing. “And my mother told her she was scared?”
He flipped through the notepad again. “She said your mother only referred to it in passing one time, when they had gone out for a walk. It was something to do with you.”
“When did this happen?”
“About a month before she disappeared.”
Her mouth soured. “That’s a whole lot of nothing.”
“No, unfortunately, your mother didn’t tell her more, but it does confirm that your mother was worried about something.”
Suddenly tired again, she rubbed her eyes. Last night had been another night with little sleep. Perhaps she should see her doctor. “Was Mrs. McMahon sure the relationship between my mother and this man was over?”
“Definitely, according to what your mother told her. Your mother had apparently loved this man, might still have, but she wasn’t going to leave your father.”
“Maybe this man was angry because she wouldn’t leave my father.” She thought about it some more. “Or maybe mom changed her mind and didn’t tell Mrs. McMahon. If—and that’s a big if—if my recollection is accurate, she was going to go away.”
“And take you with her.”
But instead of taking her away, the man had killed her. It was possible. The thought that somebody whom her mother had loved had also murdered her sent a chill through her.
She shook her head suddenly. “Wait a minute. Did Mrs. McMahon tell the police about the affair at the time?”
He shook his head no. “When she heard about the note, she thought your mother had run away with this man.”
“But my mother told her she wasn’t going to.”
“She now regrets not telling police. She just assumed your mother was alive.”
If Mrs. McMahon had gone to the police, and if the police had believed Nicky, would it have all turned out differently? She wrung her hands. It was useless to speculate on that now.
She said, “Have you spoken to my father about this?” When he nodded, she said, “What happens now?”
“We have quite a few people we still have to interview. People who were around at the time she went missing. And we’ve had a few calls this morning, after we identified your mother as the murder victim.”
“What if they’re just crank calls?”
“Some of them might be, but there will be useful leads, too.”
It was best not to read too much into his hopeful tone. She said, “Has the investigation at the farm wrapped up?”
He nodded. “Why do you ask?”
“I was just curious,” she said, not wanting to explain the need for her to visit the place where her mother was last alive. She’d just wanted to make sure the police weren’t still there.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Five days later, Lisa Bosko’s memorial service was held at a funeral home in downtown Riverton. The chapel, a long and dimly lit room with a peaked ceiling and seating for one hundred people, was already half full when Nicky arrived with Emily and Matt.
As they walked to the front up the carpeted aisle, an ex-boyfriend sitting at the end of the row nearest the aisle turned and nodded at Nicky. She returned the nod, surprised Jason Spidell had come. A girl who looked barely out of high school leaned against him, staring down at a cell phone in her lap. On the other side of the girl was Jason’s father, Allan, who had once employed Nicky’s mother as a part-time bookkeeper.
She sat at the front next to her sister, while Emily and Matt found seats several rows back. Her father, sitting on the other side of Karina, offered a grim smile, then stared at an oversized framed photograph of his wife on the altar. Her mother’s remains had not been released, and there was no casket. On the other side of her father sat his brother, Steve. The murmur of voices all but drowned out the faint organ music piped in through speakers.
She turned to Karina, who was dressed in a crispy navy blue suit. Her cheeks were pale and her eyes red. “Are you all right?”
Karina leaned in to whisper. “
It’s an awful thing to say, but I’ll be glad when this is over. The phone never stops ringing. We don’t get a moment’s peace.”
Nicky smoothed her skirt, then tugged at the sleeve of her blouse. It wasn’t hard to imagine. Her father and sister had a wide circle of friends and acquaintances. Nicky lived mostly under the radar, her cell phone number a closely guarded secret.
Karina said, “Are you okay? Will you come to the house after?”
Nicky squeezed her sister’s hand. “Of course I’ll come.” She wanted to tell Karina not to worry about her, but worrying was in Karina’s DNA. After their mother disappeared, Karina had been forced into a hybrid mother-sister role she hadn’t yet shed. How she must have longed for their mother to return so she could unload that thankless burden.
After the minister’s introduction and the singing of “Amazing Grace,” her father rose and walked slowly to the lectern. Turning around, he stared at the gathering with a vacant look in his eyes. If anything, he appeared worse than when she’d last seen him. The bags under his eyes were dark half-moons and even the creases at the side of his mouth seemed longer and deeper. He stared at his brother in a silent plea.
Uncle Steve, glancing in alarm at Nicky and Karina, was getting to his feet when her father took a piece of paper from the inside pocket of his jacket, unfolded it, and smoothed it down on the lectern. Her uncle sat back down, wiped his brow.
Clearing his throat, James Bosko began, “Lisa was the best person I have ever known.”
Karina passed her a tissue as he continued. “The day I first saw her, I knew she was the one,” he said. “It wasn’t just that she was beautiful, which she was, but she was fun and so full of life.” He went on, describing their courtship and how family was the most important thing in the world to her because she was an only child whose parents were dead.
Nicky choked back a sob, her sympathy for him now a burning ache in her chest. Even though he looked tired and haggard, a light had come into his eyes and she realized the picture she had of her father—stern and stoic—was a fraction of his true self. He hadn’t talked about his wife, or let his daughters talk about her in his presence, because of the depth of his hurt. Perhaps he hadn’t remarried because, in his mind, no one could have measured up to Lisa Bosko.
So much about her father she hadn’t understood. Karina’s protectiveness now making sense, the shame of her own behavior rose like a suffocating thickness in her throat.
Fifteen minutes later, after her sister had played piano for the singing of “How Great Thou Art,” they received condolences in a lineup at the back of the chapel, then went into a large reception room for lunch and coffee.
The detective, Cullen Fraser, wearing a dark gray suit that hung expertly from his big shoulders, caught her eye and nodded, then continued talking to a woman, a pretty blond whose hair was cut in a stylish bob that looked like every strand had been snipped separately. They stood close together and obviously knew each other quite well. Her stomach hardening, she looked away.
She spent a few minutes with Emily and Matt, then joined her father and Karina to receive condolences from people who hadn’t been at the service. Only a few people were familiar and many, it seemed, hadn’t even met her mother. One woman, whose husband had been Nicky’s dentist growing up, patted her on the hand. “Your mother and I were friends all throughout high school. She was just such a lovely person. I feel so awful for you girls and your father.”
Nicky shot her a tight smile and looked for an escape route. This woman, like some others in the room, had for years openly criticized her mother for abandoning the family. She glanced at her father, wondering what he thought of all this, especially since he’d had to endure so much more of it, but his expression betrayed no irritation. He was a better person than she was.
After several minutes, Emily came by with a sandwich and Nicky sat down in one of the chairs set up around the perimeter of the room. The ex-boyfriend, Jason, approached and sat down on the other side. The young girl was nowhere to be seen. Cullen Fraser was still talking to the woman, who looked vaguely familiar.
Jason said, “How are you making out?”
“I’m all right. You?”
“Busy.” He gave a satisfied smile. “Dad’s grooming me to take over the company.”
“Great.”
He said, “There’s a lot to learn and I’m taking some accounting courses, but I think I’m up for the challenge.” His father, one of the richest men in the county, ran a chain of supermarkets. The company had started with Jason’s grandfather, but it wasn’t until the second generation it really took off.
“I’m sure you are.”
He slapped her playfully. “Sorry you didn’t stick with me?”
Nicky resisted an urge to roll her eyes as Emily said, “Who’s the girlfriend? Steal her straight from high school?”
Nicky bit her lip to stifle a smile. So she wasn’t the only one who had noticed the girl’s age. Looking at Jason now it was hard to imagine what she’d seen in him. He wasn’t particularly good looking or smart or funny or kind. But he had paid attention to her and made her feel wanted. And he’d been a bad boy back then. That had been the bonus. It ended when they’d gotten caught for stealing and crashing a motorboat. His father had bailed him out, hiring the best lawyer in town. Her own father had decided enough was enough, and she’d done five months in a juvenile detention center.
Cullen Fraser was across the room, talking to Emily’s fiancé, Matt. The blond was gone. Catching her eye, he stared at her in with razor-sharp intensity. It was crazy—not just the way he looked at her, but the way her stomach got all twisted in response.
Warmth creeping up her neck and into her face, she turned away in time to see Jason’s father approach and rose to greet him. Allan Spidell took both hands in hers, leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. “I’m so sorry about your mother, Nicole.”
A tall, stocky man with a red complexion and a puffy face, Allan Spidell had the look of a man who drank too much. He’d lost most of his hair, with just gray wisps clinging stubbornly to the sides of his head. But he still looked powerful and fit and she remembered he’d played football in university. Jason, who was taller and slimmer, had been a promising decathlete before drugs and girls lured him away.
She said, “It was nice of you to come. I was trying to remember earlier how long my mother worked for you.”
“You’ve got me there. Two, three years?”
Nicky smiled. “She was a bookkeeper?”
“Right. She had a good mind for numbers. As well as being a lovely person.” His eyes moistened.
She said, “I didn’t realize you were close to her.”
“We were good friends in high school.”
She wanted to ask more questions, but he reached out and took her hands again. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. Take care.” He gave a nod to Emily and his son, then left.
When he’d left, Nicky turned to Jason. “It’s too bad he couldn’t stay longer.”
Jason said, “He and your father still don’t get along.” He must have caught a look of surprise on her face, because he said, “They haven’t spoken since the court case.”
Nicky wondered if there was more to it. She knew her father thought Jason should have been dealt with more harshly, but it hardly seemed worth holding a grudge over.
Jason leaned over, kissed her on the cheek, then stood up. “Want to get together some time?”
“That would be great,” she heard herself say, realizing neither of them likely had any intention of following up on it.
A few minutes later, Emily and Matt left. Cullen Fraser was nowhere to be seen, she realized with a pang.
Karina, her father, and her uncle stood in a tight circle by the sandwich table. Nicky stood, walked toward them, then felt someone touch her arm. “Nicky?”
Turning around, she was face-to-face with a heavily pregnant woman in a purple dress. She couldn’t remember the name of the woman, an acquaintance
from high school. The woman said, “How are you?”
“I’m doing okay, all things considered.”
“I am so sorry about your mom.” She emphasized the word so and put her hand on Nicky’s arm for added emphasis.
“Thank you.” She nodded toward the woman’s swollen belly. “I see congratulations are in order. When is the baby due?”
“Three weeks, not that I’m counting.” She giggled, then seemed to remember herself and pinched her lips together. Moving in closer, her voice dropped to a whisper. “Do they have any idea who did it?”
Shaking her head, Nicky watched with increasing alarm as two more women walked toward them, maneuvering around the clutches of people. More people from high school, although these ones were not even acquaintances. She might have passed them in the hall. Their faces bore the too-eager expressions of people who were enjoying themselves. She held a coffee cup in front of her chest to stave off hugs.
They chatted for a few moments, with Nicky fending off questions first about the investigation and then increasingly intrusive ones about her personal life. No doubt curiosity about the wild child had been a motivating factor for them in attending the memorial. She could almost sense their disappointment, standing as she was before them, dressed formally in a white blouse, gray pencil skirt, and black pumps.
She glanced away, desperate now to escape. Karina was talking to her Uncle Steve and his ex-wife, Nola, who must have just arrived. Karina glanced in her direction, then back at Nola, seemingly oblivious to the desperation in her sister’s eyes.
The three women had Nicky backed against a banquet table, determined to keep her captive. One of the women said, “Are you seeing anybody?” She was the biggest and tallest and had played basketball in high school.
“I’m going to steal Nicole, if you don’t mind.”
The deep voice came from behind the women. Smiling at them, Cullen reached in and grabbed her hand.
Nicky excused herself, but they were too busy looking at Cullen Fraser to take much notice of her. She followed him to the beverage table, where he poured a glass of water and handed it to her, taking her now mostly mangled coffee cup in exchange and depositing it on the table.
Extreme Pursuit (Chasing Justice #2) Page 6