Page 118 of Our Daughter's Bones

“Hello, may I speak with Mr. Sterling Brooks, please?” a man said in a polite tone.

“He isn’t available right now. Can I take a message?”

“I’m calling from the Marriott Hotel in San Francisco. Mr. Brooks stayed with us from June twenty-eighth through July first.”

She rolled her eyes, hoping this wasn’t another survey call. “Yes, he was attending a legal conference.”

“Um, is this Mrs. Brooks?”

“Yes.” She put the milk cartons in the fridge.

“Oh, ma’am! I actually wanted to speak with you. You left your hair straighteners in your room.”

“Sorry?”

“Your hair straighteners, ma’am.”

Her stomach contracted. Slowly, she closed the door to the fridge. Her brain was frazzled. She felt her muscles turn into clumps of metal hanging off her bones. She opened her mouth to speak, but only air came out.

“Ma’am?”

“Y-yes.” She found her voice, but it was breathy. “I d-did. Are you sure they’re mine?”

“Certainly. Housekeeping recovered them before another guest had checked in. We can send them to you via courier. Your husband is a valued guest…”

Mackenzie tuned out his voice. It was replaced by a high-pitched ringing sound. Her pulse came to a grinding halt. She braced herself against the edge of the counter.

Sterling had attended that conference a week ago. He had stayed in that hotel. Could there have been a misunderstanding? She had to have more faith in her husband. A thirty-second phone conversation should not have any impact on her marriage.

But she knew that it took only a few seconds for worlds to tumble.

You have to help me bury him.

She ended the call abruptly and picked up her cell to call Sterling. But something stopped her. Her breath came out quick and powerful. She felt it scrape the insides of her nostrils and heat her upper lip. She analyzed his recent behavior. Their last argument had been a month ago, but now that she thought about it, he had been distant and less attentive. She had assumed it was work. But was it?

She needed evidence, or a witness. She could go to San Francisco and ask around. But then she remembered that Nick had attended the conference too.

It slammed into her with a mighty force. Nick had been acting oddly too. He was talking less, staring at her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention, and he had cancelled their plans to hang out.

Did he know? Had he seen something in that hotel?

Sixty-Five

October 8

Nick shot out of his chair and barged out of the restaurant. He drew prying glances from other customers. Clearly they thought it was a lovers’ spat.

Darkness had fallen on Lakemore. The starless evening promised rain later in the night. Mackenzie followed him into the parking lot. He paced, running his hands through his hair.

“Stop!” she shouted. He stopped no more than ten feet away from her. But he didn’t turn around. His body swelled and shriveled like a bull readying to charge. “I had to see,” she admitted in a small voice.

He turned around slowly. “Why?”

“I just had to.”

“Why? Are you a masochist? Or were you planning on actually confronting her?”

“I had to see what was worth ruining my marriage for!”