O’Hara nodded and leaned forward to pull out another plan, and she instinctively stepped back. He looked at her curiously.
“I think that, if you keep an open mind when you look at these plans, you’ll have to agree the casino could be a real asset to the town. Look here. We’ve used a woodland theme. A brook with waterfalls actually runs through the gaming area and there will be recordings of birdsong. The furniture will be Adirondack style, like a lodge, right down to a gigantic fieldstone fireplace.”
He tapped the plan with his finger, inviting Lucy to step forward and take a closer look. She knew she should do it, but she couldn’t make her feet move. All she could think about was that missing button.
“I know casinos aren’t everybody’s cup of tea,” he said, sensing her discomfort. “Let me show you the shopping concourse. It’s truly magnificent. It has a four-story waterfall.”
As he spoke, Lucy came to a decision. She had to get out of there. She’d make up an excuse, a little white lie, and leave.
“You know,” she said, making a show of checking her watch. “I just realized that I have to pick up my daughter from Brownies.”
Damn it. If only she could take her eyes off that darn sweater. But no matter how hard she tried, her gaze kept returning to the sight of that dangling thread.
“I thought you said you had until four when the selectmen have their meeting.” His eyes had become flat and his tone was insistent.
“I’m sorry. I just forgot about the scout meeting. I really do have to go,” insisted Lucy, wishing she had never agreed to meet O’Hara.
“I only have a few more points to go over with you,” he said firmly. “It won’t take long.”
Looking through the long barn, Lucy could see the door, still ajar. More than anything she wanted to go through it.
“I can’t stay,” she said. “I really have to pick up my daughter.”
“Can’t she wait for a few minutes?” His tone was unexpectedly vehement and it struck Lucy that O’Hara was a man used to getting his own way, a man who didn’t like to be crossed.
“Ten minutes,” she said, hoping he’d accept a compromise. Besides, she was probably just being silly. There was no sense jumping to conclusions. Lots of people wore those sweaters. What had Horowitz said? Every man in American had something with that kind of button in his closet. Furthermore, she knew they tended to fall off. How many times had she replaced the buttons on Bill’s sport coat? Having a missing button wasn’t a crime and it didn’t mean O’Hara was a murderer. The sooner she went along with him, she told herself, the sooner she’d get out of there. Her best bet was to behave as normally as possible without giving him a hint of her suspicions. She could keep a poker face as well as anyone.
“How many stores in the shopping concourse?” she asked, trying to sound interested.
“Forty or so, ranging from high-end jewelry and fur boutiques to souvenirs and T-shirts.”
“This is a much bigger project than I imagined,” she said.
“Mulligan is one of the biggest construction companies in the Northeast,” he boasted. “We only do big projects.”
“Really?” Lucy decided to lay on the flattery. “And you’re in line to be the next CEO?”
“I don’t know where Howard White gets off saying stuff like that.” He glanced at TomTom, who was still regarding them suspiciously from his pen. “One thing I’ve learned in business is never to count your chickens, or your turkeys, before they’re hatched. There are plenty of foxes sniffing around, believe me.”
“From what Howard said, it sounded like a sure thing.”
“No way. I’ve got a lot of competition for the job.” He looked at the plans. “Of course, if I can make a go of this thing it would give me a real advantage.” He paused and smiled smugly. “You see, this casino project is my baby.”
“What do you mean? Didn’t the Metinnicuts hire you?”
“No way. It was my idea,” he said. “You see, I’ve known Andy for a long time. We went to college together. When he told me the local tribe was trying to get federal recognition, I approached Bear Sykes. He hadn’t even thought of a casino until I mentioned it. I mean, of course they’d thought of it, but they hadn’t come to any decision.”
Lucy nodded. “From what Ellie told me they were mostly interested in maintaining their heritage and establishing a cultural identity.”
“Whoa,” said O’Hara, holding up his hands in protest. “If I hear those words one more time—I mean, what do they want? We’ve got bears and turtles and babbling brooks and fucking bird-songs, pardon my French. But that wasn’t enough, not for Mr. Nolan. It wasn’t enough that this casino can generate enough money for the entire tribe to go live in Tahiti if they want, for God’s sake, but he’s nitpicking every little thing. Talk about bad timing. Just when we need to grease the wheels he comes in throwing sand around. That guy made a big mistake when he tangled with me.”
O’Hara suddenly realized he’d said too much. “Not that I had anything to do with his death.”
“Of course not,” said Lucy, backing away from him. “That never crossed my mind.”
O’Hara’s eyes were fixed on something in the corner. Lucy followed his gaze and recognized a maul—an oversize mallet with a steel head used to force a wedge through a log to split it into firewood.
“Of course, I’m not shedding any tears for him,” said O’Hara, picking up the maul and checking its heft. “I guess you could call it a lucky break.”
Lucy had split plenty of wood in the days when they’d heated their house with a woodstove, and she knew to the ounce exactly how heavy a maul was. She had once dropped one on her foot, which had turned black-and-blue for weeks. She
