kitchen and table. “I’ve been thinking about the last couple of weeks before Mom died. She went through a period of deep depression. She cried a lot. Mom and Sally had been close since they were little girls. When I asked about her crying, she talked about forgiveness. How hard it was, and how rare. She said very few human beings ever forgive anything. They just shove the hurts down deep and pretend they never happened. And they stop trusting.”
“Do you think she was talking about herself and Sally?”
“I didn’t at the time. She also said something about men bringing out the weakness in women. At the time I assumed that had to do with my father. But now . . . I suppose she could have been talking about Max.”
“But from what you’ve told me, whether Sally forgave your mother or not, it sounds like she knew the affair had happened.”
“I guess so.”
“If she did, that means Max’s suicide story is bullshit. Sally didn’t just find out that your mother had slept with Max. She would have known for, how long? Two years?”
“At least.” Nadine nods thoughtfully. “I suppose Sally could have brooded over it all that time. But still . . . that’s not Max’s alibi, right? He’s lying about an affair being the suicide trigger. At least about my mom.”
“Oh, he’s lying. I’d lay a million dollars on that.”
“But why would he risk that? If Sally already knew about the affair? Why not find a better lie?”
“Maybe Max didn’t know Sally knew.”
“You think Sally wouldn’t have given him hell for sleeping with my mother if she’d known about it?”
“She might not have wanted to give Max the satisfaction. Maybe by ignoring it she spared herself getting down in the mud with him.”
“Maybe.”
“Think of it this way. Sally was sixty-six. And your mother, what?”
“Sixty-four when she died. Same age as Sally, same school class for fourteen years.”
“Max has been cheating on Sally since their honeymoon. God knows what hell she’d been through all these years. Your mother was her best friend. Max would have known just how to manipulate your mom into sleeping with him, and Sally would know that. I can imagine a situation where Sally saw your mother as a victim as much as a transgressor.”
“You’re just trying to make me feel better.”
“No. I want to get to the truth. You said Sally stopped coming to book club for a month, right? Then she came back. So she agonized for a month. But then she and your mom made up.”
Hope shines in Nadine’s eyes. “You really think so?”
“Your mother was terminally ill. Sally had no illusions left about the man she’d married. I’ll bet all she cared about in the world by then was Paul and her grandson. Not where Max dipped his wick.”
“God, I hope you’re right.”
“I am. The problem is we can’t prove any of that. Not unless we turn up a long-lost diary or something.”
“That won’t happen. Mom never kept a diary.”
“Something just hit me,” I murmur. “What if these break-ins don’t have to do with you, but your mother?”
“The break-ins? What could my mother have had that anybody would want?”
“I don’t know. But if she had a secret relationship with Max, then who’s to say? Maybe Max asked Margaret to keep something for him.”
“No way. Mom might have slept with Max once or twice, but she didn’t like him. Or even trust him. In fact, in a lot of ways she despised him.”
“I’m sure. But this makes a lot more sense than you having something the Poker Club wants.”
Nadine looks up sharply. “Why do you think the Poker Club is behind the break-ins?”
“There’s something going on under all this that we don’t understand. Buck’s death, I get. But Sally’s? No. The break-ins at your store and house? And at other lawyers’ offices? I don’t get that, either.”
“They don’t all have to be connected. Do they?”
“In one little town? Sure they do. There’s one other thing. Your mother wasn’t the only one who was sick. It turns out Sally had a terminal illness, too. Dr. Kirby told me in confidence this afternoon, and he went to the police after that.”
Nadine stops pacing. She looks overwhelmed by this revelation. “Who else knew about that?”
“Only Sally and Dr. Kirby. She didn’t want anyone to know. Not even Max.”
“But . . . you think she really killed herself, then?”
“The illness is certainly grounds for a depressive state.”
“How long had she known she was ill?”
“I’m not sure.