“And?”
“You know sapphires are my favorite stone. Sally always told me that after she was gone, this would be mine.”
“Okay.”
“This morning, while Max was in jail, I didn’t just go through his office. I wandered around the house thinking about Sally. I went into her bedroom. I could smell her, see the clothes she’d worn the last couple of days. I also went into her bathroom and looked through her jewelry box.”
“And you took the necklace.”
Jet nods.
“What’s it worth?”
“I don’t know. Maybe fifty thousand. You’re missing the point. It’s not just a necklace.”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s a white sticker on the back, and there’s writing on it.”
“What does it say?”
Her eyes flash. “It’s passwords, Marshall. A five-digit one on top. Then a longer one, a word followed by numbers.”
“Passwords to what?”
“I don’t know. I tried Sally’s computer—no luck. Same with Max’s laptop and desktop. The police have her iPhone, but I think she would have foreseen that. Whatever these passwords open, I think she put them where she knew I’d find them—not right away, but sooner or later.”
“What’s the word part of the second password?”
“Mai Loc. The whole password is MaiLoc1971.”
“My lock?” I ask, incredulous.
“It’s not English words,” she explains. “It’s M-A-I, L-O-C. I googled it. Mai Loc is a village in the central highlands of Vietnam. The U.S. Army Fifth Special Forces Group established a camp there in 1968.”
“Holy shit. That’s Max all over. Green Beret. But he was still in high school in ’68. Was the camp still there in ’71?”
“Yes. Wikipedia says the Special Forces had pulled out by then, but there was a sizable operation near there in ’71, and Max could have been part of that. He reached Vietnam in 1970, and I know he served in that area in ’71. Quang Tri Province.”
“Was the name of the operation ‘Mustang’?”
“Montana Mustang.”
“Max played some role in that. I heard him talk about it in high school. Those have to be passwords, at least the second one. The pun is so obvious. Mai Loc?”
Jet nods, her eyes filled with the primal excitement I’ve seen in men’s eyes before a hunt. “Sally left these passwords for me. But unless I can figure out what they open, it won’t help us.”
“Do you think Max killed her over whatever those passwords protect?”
“Maybe.”
“What could it be?”
“I think the first number is a cell phone password.”
Suddenly I see her intent. “You’re going to try to steal Max’s phone?”
“Given the stakes, I’d say it’s worth it.”
“You couldn’t get to it at the jail this morning?”
“I tried, but they wouldn’t give it to anybody but Max. The Poker Club owns that department, Marshall.”
I’m tired of hearing about everything the Poker Club controls.
“One more thing,” she says. “Two days ago, Max asked me about some manila folders he claims were stolen from his home office.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She shrugs. “I didn’t know anything about them. I didn’t take them. It never occurred to me that Sally might have. I figured Tallulah mislaid them.”
“Jet . . . I need to think about all this. But you remember one thing: you can’t put that Seychelles plan in motion. In fact, I’m telling you not to. It’s tantamount to murder.”
She studies me for what feels like a long time, not challenging me, but seemingly trying to understand my decision. “You realize it might be the only way for me to get out of this town with Kevin? Without hurting Paul.”
I’m on dangerous ground here. “I don’t think so. I think that after this craziness settles down, there’ll be a way to tell the truth—or some less cruel version of it—and still get what we want. Without damning ourselves for all time.”
In the silence that follows this exchange, I look back at the woman who at fourteen appeared to me as an earthbound angel. She’s almost as beautiful now as she was then, but I no longer see an angel. Of course, angels don’t exist. They’re the personification of wishful thinking by desperate humans. And that’s what I see before me now—a woman at the end of her rope.
My iPhone pings. Taking it out, I see a text from Nadine. It reads: I’m outside. Someone broke into my mother’s house. I freaked out and came here. I tried to call but you didn’t answer. Was going to use the key, but I heard voices. Should I leave?
“What is it?” Jet asks.
There’s no point lying now. “Nadine Sullivan’s outside.”
Her eyes widen. “At your gate? Or right outside the house?”
“The house, I think.”
“She has your gate code?”
“I gave it to her last night. Somebody broke into her store during the Aurora party, so she stayed here.”
Jet sits utterly still, but she’s sifting through the possibilities. “Nadine can’t see me here,” she says finally. “Not today.”
“No.”
“If I hide in the back bedroom, will I be okay? Or should I slip out?”
The coldness in that voice . . . the underlying pragmatism. “You’ll be okay. Hide in the bedroom.”
Her tongue skates along the edge of her top teeth as she thinks my answer through. “Okay.” She gets to her feet. “We’ll finish this conversation after she goes, if I’m still here. I can’t get stuck.”
“I don’t think she’ll be long,” I reply, then instantly regret it. I have no idea how long Nadine will stay, or expect to.
As Jet walks toward the hall, her wineglass in her left hand, I text Nadine to come to the garage door.
“If we don’t talk again,” Jet says, “wait for me to contact you. Don’t risk calling me.”
“I know. And you don’t do anything crazy. About the Seychelles or Max’s cell phone. Okay?”
She holds up her free hand in a limp wave that communicates deep sadness. Then she turns and walks down the hall.
Chapter 26
When I open the garage door, I find Nadine standing very straight but looking harried and pale. She has her mother’s pistol in one hand and her cell phone in the other.
“Did I mess up?” she asks. “You told me I could come if I felt afraid. I don’t trust the damn police in this town.”
“You didn’t mess up. Come in.”
I step back and she slides past me, then glides into the kitchen.
“I thought I heard voices,” she says. “I thought somebody was in here with you. I didn’t see a car, though.”
She must not have seen Jet’s Volvo parked in the woods. “I was talking to Jet on speakerphone. That’s why I ignored your first call.”
“Oh.” Nadine nods to herself. “What’s going on with her? If she’s defending her father-in-law for killing his wife, I guess she’s having a busy day.”