Page 26 of Our Daughter's Bones
“I have potential sighting reports––”
“Jenna and Justin are on top of it.”
“But––”
“It’s an order, Mack.”
Thirteen
An hour later, Mackenzie was sandwiched between Finn and Ella, Troy’s fiancée. Oaktree Pub was packed for a Thursday night. The regulars were perched by the bar. Groups of college boys and girls were jostling around the pool table. Posters for Lakemore Sharks and Jefferson Frogs from Spokane decorated the walls. Mackenzie was glad that there wasn’t a game on tonight. She guessed a teenager was in charge of the jukebox because pop music blared through the speakers.
Sully’s wife, Pam, was stout and short, a sort of soft square. Her hair had a layered boy cut and was dyed an ugly shade of dark red. If Sully was lazy and laid-back, Pam was a fireball no one could hold for long.
“When’s the wedding?” Pam clapped her hands, excited. “You two have been engaged for over nine months now.”
“We can’t decide on a location,” Ella held Troy’s hand. “And he’s always very busy. I’m looking at you, Jeff.”
Sully blinked sleepily. He’d had two glasses of wine already. “Don’t look at me. Tell people to stop killing each other.”
“Oh, poor Erica!” Pam shuddered. “My friend’s husband works for Erica’s father. Let’s just say he has absolutely lost it. Nick has a lot of work ahead of him. Oh! There he is!”
Mackenzie stiffened. Nick approached from behind her. “Pam! Great to see you!”
Pam stood up and grabbed Nick’s face in her hands. She showered Nick with wet kisses. He cringed but recovered quickly.
“I missed your handsome face,” she cooed and forced him to sit next to her. Mackenzie realized that Pam had already downed three glasses of Bloody Mary. The Sullys liked to drink. “Sometimes I have a hard time believing that you’re single. Maybe I can set you up with one of my single friends.”
Nick’s eyes darted across the table, greeting everyone. When he looked at Mackenzie, his nostrils flared.
“Honey, we belong to a different generation,” Sully reminded his wife kindly.
“Speak for yourself!”
The conversation flowed easily. Sully, Ned, Troy, and Ella discussed the much-awaited game next week. Pam badgered Nick for details on Erica’s case. As much as Mackenzie wanted to listen to Finn’s account of his first sailing experience, her ear was fixated on the other conversation. But Nick kept changing the topic. The nervous bobbing of his sharp Adam’s apple and his fidgety grip around his beer bottle didn’t go unnoticed. This was going to be one of the biggest cases of his career—and Nick had started off that career by catching a serial killer. All eyes were on him. Especially after the sloppy job Bruce had done, the pressure was a lot higher.
“Mackenzie, why aren’t you drinking?” Pam gasped, offended.
“I’m driving.”
“Nonsense! Where’s Sterling? You said he would join us!”
She realized that she had forgotten to invite Sterling. She scrambled for an explanation. “He’s not feeling well.”
“Oh, poor him. Tell him I missed him.”
Unfortunately, Nick caught her hesitation. She saw him smirk into his drink. She wanted to throw that drink in his face.
Mackenzie stuck out of the crowd like a sore thumb. Everyone around her laughed unrestrained; she smiled stiffly. They waved their hands around; she raised hers to order more fries. They bobbed their heads to the music; her head sat rigidly on her shoulders. Their collars were unbuttoned and sleeves rolled up; she looked like she was ready for a job interview.
Mackenzie imagined what it would be like to shrug off her jacket, stand on the table and dance. When was the last time she’d danced? When was the last time she had thrown her head back and laughed so hard that she snorted?
A lump clogged her throat. She didn’t deserve to feel that happiness. She didn’t deserve that freedom. She should have been in jail for what she did all those years ago. Yet she sat here in a bar just a few miles away from her father’s bones, the dirty secret that was just waiting to erupt and consume her. So, she created a prison for herself. A jail in her mind. She might have the freedom to move around and live life her way, but she didn’t allow herself the freedom to be happy. Even so, there were days when being rigid got tiring, when the glue holding her together would threaten to melt.
She dreaded her age. She was only thirty-two. How was she going to spend her life like this?
She blinked away the tears welling in her eyes. Nick was watching her. She masked annoyance and looked away.
“Sterling? Is that Sterling?” Pam said.
