Early Sunday afternoon, Mike received a call from Christine Boutroux. She asked him to come to her place with Nikki because she had something important to tell them. After the conversation was over, Mike imitated her with particular emphasis.
They had spent the morning going through reports and protocols, going over the old files on Miriam Labo's disappearance again, and looking at the pictures of Leila Decker's body, the place where she was found, and Diana Martiny's bedroom.
Nikki was eager to hear what Upton's wife had to say, even if the conversations with her didn't exactly cover the events she was looking forward to.
Christine Boutroux received them with her usual aloofness, but when she greeted them, something flitted across her face that looked like a smile. She led the two detectives into the large living area, where she not only offered them a seat but, for the first time, something to drink. Nikki's curiosity about what the woman wanted to tell them grew by the second.
"Where is your husband?" Mike asked after they had both declined the offer of a drink.
"He's not here. I don't know where he is right now. We had an argument this morning that caused him to leave the house and drive away. My husband is not very good at dealing with conflict or discussing things controversially. He prefers to run away when his point of view is not shared."
Nikki crossed her legs. "Which surprises me, given his job. Our investigation shows that your husband doesn't shy away from unpleasant conversations. That would be disastrous."
The woman let out a sound that expressed the most profound contempt. "Yes, that's his job. At home, it's a different matter."
"All right," Mike said, 'you wanted us to come here. Here we are.'
Boutroux nodded slowly. 'I have a favor to ask of you.'
That was what was going on, and that was why she was trying so hard to be friendly. Nikki felt everything inside her bristle at this attempt at manipulation.
"I would like to ask you to inform me immediately if it turns out my husband is involved in any crimes."
Nikki looked over at her husband, who frowned. "What makes you think that? You gave him an alibi for the night of the crime yourself. Is something suddenly making you think your husband might be involved after all?"
"I said my husband was home until midnight, and I didn't hear him leave the house again. And that's the truth." She put her hands in her lap and clasped her fingers. "To help you understand my request, I might need to explain something to you. I know that my husband has been cheating on me for years. With female colleagues, with actresses, with any reasonably attractive woman who falls for him."
Strangely enough, Nikki wasn't surprised. On the contrary, she would have been shocked if an intelligent woman like Christine Boutroux hadn't known what was happening. And she wondered if Boutroux's behavior was perhaps nothing more than a protective mechanism and, thus, the inevitable result of her marriage to Harry Upton.
"Why do you put up with it?" Mike asked. Nikki thought she knew the answer.
"I've kept quiet about it so far because I wanted to avoid the catastrophe that a divorce would mean for my father."
"But there's no shame in getting divorced these days."
"No, not for society anymore. But for him. The idea that a family member could have a failed marriage is simply inconceivable to him."
Nikki couldn't help but see Christine Boutroux through different eyes. She found the idea of keeping a marriage together under these circumstances inconceivable, but at least she could begin to understand why this woman was the way she was.
"What do you think about Miriam Labo?" she asked, whereupon Boutroux shrugged.
"A special trophy in Harry's collection."
"So you knew about that too. Why special?"
"Because she was the only one for whom he was interested in more than one night or, at most, a few days."
"How do you know so much about your husband?"
"That's the advantage of money. You can afford a lot with it. For example, private detectives."
"Do you know what I don't understand?" Mike rubbed his forehead. "Hasn't your husband ever wanted a divorce? I mean, with his lifestyle --"
A bitter smile spread across the woman's lips. "That's the last thing he wants. Because then he would have to live on his salary and couldn't afford all his nice toys anymore. Everything you hear here is mine, and so is everything you don't see. Including the car, he's driving right now. We have a prenuptial agreement. If we get divorced, he gets nothing."
"Your father probably insisted on that, didn't he?"
Christine Boutroux looked at Mike in amazement. 'Don't you realize how illogical that would be?' She said exactly what Nikki was thinking. "If a divorce is unthinkable for my father, why would he insist on a prenuptial agreement that regulates a divorce?"
His expression alternated between amazement and comprehension, which Nikki would have loved to comment on if they had been alone.
"As I said, I have known about Harry's escapades with other women for a long time. I've come to terms with that, at least for the time being, while my father is still alive. However, if it turns out that he is involved in a crime, I will separate from him."
"Do you think he's capable of that?" Mike's question came unexpectedly, perhaps as a small revenge for the fact that she had just shown him up. He earned another humorless laugh for it.
"What does it matter? A few years ago, I wouldn't have believed that he was fooling around in other women's beds either, while supposedly on a research trip. But let's get back to my initial question: will you notify me if it turns out that my husband is involved in a crime?"
"Don't you find it redundant?" Mike visibly enjoyed his words. "If it turns out that your husband is involved in a crime, we will arrest him immediately. You will then, like it or not, be informed. So an explicit notification on our part will not be necessary."
Boutroux's right eyebrow rose barely noticeably. "Are you feeling better now?"
"What do you mean?"
Nikki could tell from Mike's expression that he knew exactly what she was getting at. Christine Boutroux obviously saw this, too, because she didn't answer.
xxx
"Stupid, arrogant bitch," Mike hissed as they sat in the car.
Nikki couldn't help but grin. 'Well, I thought she was pretty quick-witted.' When Mike looked at her grimly, she added thoughtfully. "I have to admit that I now feel something like admiration for this woman."
"Admiration? For what? For being stupid enough to let this Casanova cheat on her again and again instead of kicking him out?"
"No, for not doing it out of consideration for her father's feelings. I wouldn't have thought it possible until now that she would do something out of consideration for other people. Maybe her husband's behavior is why she is the way she is."
"Yes. But maybe she's also the reason that Upton jumps through many beds. If I had a block of ice like that at home, I'd probably be permanently looking for affection, too."
For a split second, Nikki stopped breathing, swallowed hard, and then licked her lips. "I can't help but think that it's not affection that Harry Upton is looking for. I think he needs constant confirmation that women are at his feet. And if that's denied, he can be unpleasant, as we've heard." There was silence in the car for a few seconds, and then Nikki decided to address what had been standing between her and Mike since she had returned. "How often in this one year that I haven't been in Boston have you thought about filing for divorce?"
Mike opened his mouth, paused, and then moved his jaw thoughtfully back and forth. "Nikki --"
"Michael, I know you well enough to know that claiming that you've never thought about it is a lie."
He nodded slowly and licked his lips. "Towards the end, when you kept extending your stay at Quantico for reasons I couldn't understand. At some point, I got the feeling that you didn't want to come back home --" He paused and gripped the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white. "Back to me. So, I thought about filing for divorce so you would return to Boston and back home. If not, get back to me, then at least get back to your family. And if I was the reason for you not to come back here, then it was the only logical and correct step."
Nikki looked at him long and hard. She and Mike had had more than one opportunity to talk about this topic, but both had avoided naming the elephant in the room every time. "You're my family, Mike, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I just had to find myself after all these years."
Mike took a deep breath and nodded to himself. It was evident that something was on his mind. 'And how many times did you think about going to bed with another guy in this darn year of finding yourself?'
"Mike--"
He looked at her briefly. "You can't tell me that the opportunity never arose," he looked back at the road and licked his lips. "I'll be honest, I didn't fall in love with you back then only because of your razor-sharp mind."
Nikki smiled and tilted her head back, but then she became serious and closed her eyes as she recalled the one weekend when her husband had once again canceled his visit at the last minute. "Once," she said honestly, turning her head to Mike after she opened her eyes again.
He gritted his teeth and nodded. "What happened?"
"What happened?"
"I mean, what triggered the thought."
She looked at him intently and knew it was neither the right place nor the right time to talk about it, but her husband had pushed open the door she had closed so firmly with a simple question. "You happened."
He looked into her eyes for a long time, questioningly, forgetting that he was now driving a car.
"Mike," Nikki shouted when she realized he was almost rear-ended by the car in front. 'Jesus Christ,' she gasped as he slammed on the brakes.
Mike indicated and turned into the nearest parking lot, killing the engine. Then he turned in his seat to look at her directly. "What do you mean I was the trigger?"
Nikki looked at him intensely, rolling her eyes with a smile at the memory. "That was the weekend before I left Quantico. You told me that you had taken time off and were coming to visit me and that we would fly back to Boston together." She closed her eyes, licked her lips, and shook her head with a smile. "God, I haven't been this happy in a year. I mean... I'm only human, I have needs just like you. When you told me you finally had the time to visit me this weekend, I could imagine what that time would be like. How we would order in that damn weekend, only leave the bed to eat and drink, how we would finally get close to each other physically again after a year --"
"And then I canceled again," Mike said when his wife fell silent.
Her eyes snapped open, and she looked at him with a deep frown. "After that call, I was more than disappointed and frustrated. Of course, I knew that a new case could have come up at any time, but according to Ma and Nick, that wasn't the case."
He nodded slowly. "Of course, you asked them what kind of case we caught that was so important that I couldn't come to you."
"Of course," Nikki replied, taking a deep breath. "When I found out that you and your team didn't have an ongoing case that could keep you from coming to me, I was even more frustrated and equally disappointed and angry. That night, I got drunk with a few colleagues. And one of them looked a lot like you, so I wanted to take him home."
Mike took a deep breath and edged a little closer to her. "What stopped you from taking him home?"
Nikki leaned back again and looked at him for a long time. "He didn't kiss me like you do. At that moment, in the parking lot outside the pub, my mind kicked back in... He just wasn't you."
Mike nodded slowly and took a deep breath as he leaned forward, even though he had to fight with himself for a second. At that moment, he also threw overboard all the professionalism he and Nikki strictly maintained during working hours. He leaned towards her and kissed her like the night he had found the courage to do so for the first time after their sixth date. Meaningful but not intrusive. I am not demanding, but I am waiting to see if Nikki will return the kiss. A kiss in which all his hope and fear of rejection were hidden.
After he had pulled away, he looked her in the eye, took a deep breath, and started the car without saying a word to continue on their way home. Hoping that he wouldn't have to say much more about the subject.