say ‘confronted’ her? Jet was the victim in this.”
Nadine hesitates before answering. “You’re right. I don’t know why I said that.”
“You must have had a reason.”
She cuts her eyes at me. “This is dangerous ground, Marshall. You said Max tried to rape Jet tonight. So I’m probably full of shit.”
“Full of shit for what?”
Two pairs of headlights round a curve ahead and move toward us.
Apropos of nothing, Nadine says, “It’s weird owning a bookstore like I do.”
“What?”
“I’m there all day every day, alone a lot of the time. Men know where to find me. They have the right to come in and look at me, unless I bar them, which as a practical matter is tough. They can sit in my café for hours, even have me wait on them. It can make for uncomfortable situations.”
I’ve never thought about it that way. I’m guilty of exactly that. “And . . . ?”
“I’ve learned a lot about men during that time. A lot of guys have hit on me in that shop. I’ve seen every type. Beau Holland is one of the worst. Vain, arrogant, pushy, no concern for anyone but himself. He can’t imagine any woman saying no to him—or meaning no, rather.”
“And Max? You told me he hit on you more than once.”
“He has, absolutely. But not like Beau. Max has a sense of humor about it. He’ll make a remark or whatever, some double entendre, but he knows when to back off. With me, anyway.” Nadine turns to me as she drives, letting me see her eyes. “All my instinct tells me he’s not the guy to try to take it when he’s not wanted.”
Something in her voice frightens me, but it also triggers anger. “You should have seen him trying to rip Jet’s shirt off earlier tonight.”
“You saw that happen?”
“I was across the Parnassus pool from them. He attacked her. That’s when she hit him with the hammer.”
“See? I’m an asshole. I’ve just been trying to make sense of why Jet never left that marriage.”
“That bothered me, too,” I admit. “I don’t mean after Kevin was born, or even after she discovered she was pregnant. But right after the rape.”
“Exactly. Jet wasn’t a teenager. She was, what, thirty-three? And an attorney.”
“I asked her about it. She couldn’t give me an answer. Only that she wasn’t as strong as she’d thought she was.”
“I’m not criticizing her,” Nadine says quickly. “And I’m not speaking lightly of this. I’ve been assaulted twice, almost raped both times. I managed to get out of those situations, but not unscathed.”
“Did you report it?”
“The first time, no. Second time, yes. But we’re not talking about me tonight.”
“Jet has serious issues because of her father abandoning her. She was also worried that Paul would kill himself if she left. He was suicidally depressed. And remember what Sally told you: Max is a truly evil man. Jet discovered that fact thirteen years before Sally did. She told me he takes trips to Vietnam to have sex with young prostitutes. Who knows what really kept her in that family?”
“I’m sorry I brought it up,” Nadine says, sounding genuinely upset.
“No, I understand. I’ve listened to a lot of stories in my life, and there’s something that doesn’t feel quite right about Jet’s narrative. I hate saying that.”
“Why did Sally give the cache to me?” Nadine asks. “That’s the nub of it. Jet was the natural choice. She’s a practicing attorney. She’s Sally’s daughter-in-law. She’d crusaded against the Poker Club. She seemed unafraid of Max. Why didn’t Sally talk to Jet as soon as she suspected the truth? Unless . . .”
“She was afraid to,” I finish. “That’s what you’re thinking. And not just because she might scare Jet into running with Kevin.”
“Yes,” Nadine says quietly. “I don’t want to go any further than that. If you want to know more, you should go talk to Tallulah in the morning. She knows more than any of us.”
“You spoke to her today, right? About your mom and Max?”
“I did. But let’s leave it there. All this gets about as personal as anything can. And when you’re dealing with human beings, everyone has their own agenda. You can’t be sure you’re getting pure truth from anybody. You know that. I’m not even sure I want to get to the bottom of this.”
“Jesus,” I whisper. “You’re scaring me.”
“I’m not suggesting anything weird, okay? Just . . . you need to go down that road on your own. I can’t get between you