Liar, page 11
“Well, one of those things wouldn’t happen to be a certain handsome, well-built self-defense instructor, would it?”
“Possibly.” I give her a weak smile.
But not in the way you’re thinking.
And that’s all I hear about for the last five miles to her house, why I should settle down with Derek and start a family of my own.
“You want to come in?” she asks as she steps out of the car.
“No. I have to stop by the store and pick up a few things and then get home. I have a ton of laundry waiting for me. But thanks.”
“Okay, hon. You be careful, and I’ll see you tomorrow. Okay?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, slamming the door way too hard and jotting off down the drive.
I pull out and head toward the office, in need of Dave’s computer again. If Adam won’t tell me what’s going on, then I’ll find out for myself.
After stepping inside, I close and lock the door behind me before turning off the security alarm. What’s that damn code? Next, I head straight for Dave’s desk and fire up the laptop.
Just like the last time, I type in the case name.
Searching... State vs. John Lieblong.
And, like last time, scads of documents appear. But this time, I pay close attention to all the ugly ones. I find the Lieblong Complaint and scan through it carefully, not really knowing what I’m looking for. But I still manage to find it anyway soon enough. My heart skips a beat or two, and I feel sick. There it is—Arresting Officer Derek J. Hines.
At least I know now how Adam knows him. But it still doesn’t explain his irrational behavior this morning. There has to be more to it than Derek arresting his friend or talking to him about the murder. I scroll through some of the other documents, reading a few more articles and some of the motions. Still, nothing gives any detail about what happened to the woman or how she actually died.
I give up. Maybe I’ll ask Dave tomorrow to help me research. He has a lot of friends at the police department, and a lot of pull with the courts, even. He’ll either know or he’ll be able to find out. But I’d need to come up with a damn good reason why I’m asking.
Shutting down the laptop, I look around for anything I might need to get ready or take with me to prepare for work tomorrow. Satisfied, I set the alarm and head back to the car. As I’m backing out, I realize that I haven’t checked my messages all afternoon. I shrug it off, sure there’s nothing that won’t wait until I get home.
What if Adam called? My heart speeds up. Suddenly, I can’t get my phone out of my pocket fast enough. Surely, he’s called several times, desperate to talk to me, to apologize and tell me he overreacted.
Holding my breath, I check my phone, only to find that I have no missed calls or messages. Nothing. Nada. Zip. I’m almost slung back into the depths of depression hell again. But I refuse to go without a fight. This is stupid. I’ll call him when I get home. I’m not too proud to apologize. If this is what being without him is going to feel like, hell, I’ll apologize gladly. My foot is sinking onto the gas pedal, and I smile. Why should I let Derek Hines come between me and Adam? I haven’t seen Derek in years. He’s nothing to me. I’ll cancel our lunch tomorrow as soon as I call Adam.
In half the time it usually takes me, I roar into my driveway. Adam’s truck is parked in the drive.
Okay. Be cool and don’t scare him off. I pull up, slide it into park and kill the engine. Relief is flooding through my body. I take a deep breath and step out. Adam is sitting on the porch, his arms spread across the back of my rocking bench as he watches me intently. Man, he looks really good on my porch.
“Hi.” I speak first as soon as I reach the steps.
“Hi.” He smiles back, but it’s kind of a sad smile.
“How long have you been waiting?”
“Not long. Only an hour or so.”
“An hour? Why didn’t you call me?” I climb the steps and sit down beside him.
“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk to me after I acted like such an ass.”
“I was actually going to call you as soon as I got here,” I confess.
“Were you now?” He looks a little happier.
“Yeah. This is stupid, Adam. I haven’t even seen Derek in years. And, even back then, in school, he was actually a lot closer to my brother than he ever was to me. It was just...”
“What?”
“He reminded me of Marcus, I guess. And I miss my brother so much.” I fight back the tears, but for some reason, they won’t be stopped. They demand an audience. Adam seems surprised at first, but then he folds me into his arms, rocking me, stroking me, and kissing my hair. I think, maybe, I could have kept my shit together a lot better if he hadn’t been so ready to comfort me.
“Shh. It’s okay. I’m so sorry I put you through that.”
“You didn’t. It’s not that. I just carry this shit around with me all the time, and I’m... well, I’m tired. Exhausted.”
Yeah. That’s exactly what I am. Worn out and tired of thinking up ways to punish myself for it. “Adam, the accident was... Well, it was my fault. All my fault.”
Wiping my nose with the back of my hand, I’m dimly aware of the sobbing lunatic I probably look like.
“I doubt that,” he says, wiping away a tear with his finger and kissing my forehead. “Why don’t we go inside so you can blow your nose?”
“Good idea,” I say, already heading in that direction.
Inside, I streak straight toward the bathroom, stand in front of the mirror, and swear at myself while I wipe my nose. Here I get him back, and the first thing I do is blubber like some kind of hysterical, crazy bitch with snot streaming down my lips. I sniff and grab another tissue. Do I really want to tell him about this? Do I want to tell the man I think I’m falling in love with the most evil, awful truth I have? The shameful secret that I’ve never told another living soul? I nod at myself in the mirror. Yes, I do.
He’s not in the living room when I return, and my heart skips a beat, afraid he may have gone again. I’m about to run to the door when I hear a noise in the kitchen.
“What are you doing?” I step behind him and wrap my arms around his waist.
“I thought you could use some coffee. I know I could.”
“Thank you.” I snuggle into his back and wrap my arms around him.
Maneuvering with me attached, he places the pot back into the coffee maker and flips on the switch before carefully twisting around to face me.
“Now. Come here,” he says, softly hugging me to him.
God, he feels so good. Good, like this is the only place I’ve longed to be all day. Good, like coming home after being gone for days. And good like this is the only place in the world I feel safe, really totally safe. I fit perfectly into the little niche between his arm and his chest, and I nestle into it even further, trying to melt into him.
“Hey there,” he says softly. “Look at me.”
Shaking my head, I squeeze him tighter. “Just hold me, please.”
“I can do that.” He wraps his arms around me and kisses me on the top of my head. We stand there in my kitchen, and he holds me, rocking me gently back and forth, waiting for coffee.
“Coffee?” he finally asks.
Feeling like an idiot, I step back and nod. He smiles sweetly as I swipe at my nose.
“Okay. Let’s find some cups.” He walks over and opens a cupboard.
“They’re over here.” I finally get it together enough to have a meaningful interaction and open the cupboard and take down a couple of mugs. I turn to place them on the counter and spy my trash can in the corner or the room, overflowing. It’s full of empty wine bottles, tequila bottles, and even bourbon bottles, all still lying around from weeks ago. I shake my head.
“So, I can see now that I’m going to have a hard time not seeing you during the week,” Adam says. “Hell, I can’t even stay away from you long enough for you to eat lunch with your friends.” He pours coffee in both cups and slides the pot back on the burner.
“Really? I can’t imagine what you’re thinking now. All I’ve done is cry and act like a nut since you’ve been here.”
“Well, you’re upset. I don’t know if it’s because of me or what. But, I think if we’re going to do this, we might need to start talking to each other.” He places his hand beneath my chin, raising my face so he can see my eyes. “And I really want to do this.”
“Me, too.”
“Good.” He kisses me and places his hand on my back, leading me into the living room. “Now. Let’s talk.”
I kick off my boots and toss them out of the way. Then, I sit down on the sofa with my mug and curl up with my feet beneath me. Adam sits down beside me, his arm resting on the back of the couch, so he can stroke my shoulder while I talk. I think he expects me to break down again. But, I’m not. I take a sip of my coffee and stare ahead at the table.
“I told you I had a twin brother. His name was Marcus, and he was the smartest and funniest one between the two of us, not to mention the most beautiful.”
“I find that difficult to believe.” He scoffs.
“Shh. This is my story.”
He chuckles. “Sorry. Go ahead.”
“Anyway, Marcus was really beautiful for a guy. He always had a horde of women following him around. We weren’t identical or anything, obviously, but I seriously don’t know how siblings could have been any closer, identical or not. My mom used to say that when Marcus scraped his knees, I would bleed. Or, when I had a bad dream, Marcus is the one who would wake up screaming.” I chuckle, remembering all those sweet, wonderful, difficult things I’ve tried to push to the back of my mind for years now.
“But, like everybody else, we started getting older, and we kind of drifted apart like kids do, you know? I was hanging around with my friends, he was hanging around with his. We had our own lives by then. I was already away at school, and he was going to college here at home. We barely saw each other anymore. But I’d come home for spring break, a whole two weeks. My parents were so excited.
“We were supposed to be going out to dinner, the whole family, because it’s the first time we’d been back together in months. But, before Dad got home from work, the three of us, we got into this huge argument about one of my friends who’d come by. I don’t even remember what started it. Mom didn’t like the looks of him or something stupid. Well, it’s stupid now. And Marcus was standing there beside her, agreeing with her. I felt like they were kind of ganging up on me, like Marcus had totally betrayed me or something. It pissed me off, and I left. I just got up and walked out and I slammed the door behind me.
“I drove over to another friend’s house, just hanging out, having some drinks and smoking a little dope. And then, I started to feel bad about doing Mom and Dad that way. I knew Dad would be upset when he got home. And, of course, I was Daddy’s girl. So, I ended up calling. He wanted me to come straight home, but I told him I couldn’t. I’d been drinking, you know? So, I told him where I was, and they got in the car to come and get me. We were going to leave my car at Karen’s and go ahead, just the four us, and go to dinner. Just forget the whole damn thing, Dad said. So I waited for them. And I waited. I tried calling. I called home. I called their cells. I called my friends and then Marcus’ friends. Nothing. No one had seen them.
“I knew. I just knew in my gut.” I pause, shaking my head. “So, finally, I got in my car and drove off toward the house. I got to the intersection there at Spring Street just in time to see the wrecker pulling the guy’s truck the rest of the way off Dad’s car. They’d already taken Mom and Dad and Marcus away. And the other guys, too. The guy driving the truck was twenty-one years old. He was actually out celebrating his birthday with some friends. They were all drunk as skunks, and they flipped their truck off the overpass. It rolled down that steep hill there by the intersection, and it landed directly on top of Dad’s car. It killed all of them except for him.”
Sipping my coffee, I continue to stare at the table. “So there you have it. And, Adam, you should know that I drink. I drink a lot. I don’t even know why, if it’s to forget or to punish myself or what. But I’m like one step away from being a worthless, useless drunk. If it wasn’t for Dave and Lucy...” I sigh. “Well, they’ve tried to help. They still try to help. But, you know, if it’s not the alcohol, it’s always something else. I mean, I smoke and cuss and don’t usually give a shit about anything. Oh, and I fight. And I take a lot of stupid risks, with my life and my health. Honestly, I don’t care about anything most of the time, especially myself. But, the weird thing is, I don’t feel that way anymore, not when I’m with you.”
Adam leans forward and takes the cup out of my hand, placing it on the table. Then, he leans back, pulling me into his arms and squeezing me tight as he kisses my hair. “Oh, baby. It’s not your fault.”
“It is my fault, Adam. I didn’t mean to. But the whole thing’s my fault.”
“Billie, if I had to guess the last thing that ran through their minds, I’d probably say they were thanking God that you weren’t there in the car with them. I’m sure they were grateful that you were somewhere else, safe.”
Squeezing me tight, he places his lips to my ear and whispers, “And so am I.”
There is no doubt in my mind that I am absolutely, positively in love with this man. I don’t know if it was exactly love at first sight, since I don’t really believe in that bullshit, but it damn sure came close.
“I’m glad that I found you.” I raise my head and smile at him.
Pulling me to him, he kisses me sweetly, softly, and I close my eyes, relishing the feel of his lips. It’s exactly what I need. I need to feel him. I reach beneath his shirt, combing his chest with my fingers and then sliding them across his back as I ease myself onto his lap. I need to touch him now. I raise my face to his, my lips to his, kissing him with all the heat and longing that I’ve had locked away inside for the past five years. And, I need him in me. I need to feel him love me.
Adam shifts uncomfortably beneath me, and I can tell he’s getting hard. I drag my fingers down his stomach, down to the first button on his jeans.
“Billie, wait.” He pulls away and grabs my hands to still them. “I need to tell you something, too.”
Chapter Thirteen
“I need to tell you this. And then, if you still want me afterward, I’ll lay you down right here and I’ll make love to you for the rest of the night, if you’ll let me.”
“Okay.” I nod, wondering what could possibly make me not want him, especially given the news I’ve just delivered to him.
“Baby, I told you that I’m an accountant. Well, that’s not totally true.”
“Okay.” So, he’s not an accountant? Big deal. I couldn’t care less.
“I do keep books. But, not the conventional kind, the kind you’re probably thinking about.” He pauses, waiting to see if he can catch a glimmer of understanding in my eyes.
He keeps books. He hangs around the race track a lot. His brother is some big-time racing hotshot. And he’s richer than Bill Gates. It’s not a tall leap.
“I get it.” Whew. Is that it? I can live with that. But, he goes on.
He nods. “Okay. Good. Well, in my line of work, you can imagine some of the people I have to meet with or even hang out with sometimes. Scum of the Earth, some of them. And, there’s this one guy, his name’s Tommy T or, at least, that’s what everyone calls him. Well, I was at his place one night. I had to go collect on a marker.”
“A marker?”
“Uh... An IOU. He owed us money.”
“Is this what you do? Collect money from people?”
“You mean a bagman? Oh, hell no. I don’t shake people down for money or break legs or anything like that. I’m strictly bookkeeping. Really. I have a degree in accounting and socio-economics. I’m really just an accountant.”
Well, that’s good, at least.
“Anyway, I was at Tommy T’s that night, and we were all playing poker, just chilling. Tommy T had already paid me what he owed, and I didn’t have anything better to do. So I just had them deal me in a couple of hands. Everything’s fine, we’re all just sitting around the table, shooting the shit and playing cards, when this guy comes running into the room, all spazzing and freaking out. He tells Tommy T that some guy had gone off his nut and killed a girl in one of the bedrooms.
“Well, naturally, we all jumped up and ran in there to see what the hell was going on. Everyone knows that Tommy T does a little business on the side with the ladies. And, we all thought he was going to come unhinged when we walked in and saw this girl lying across the bed bleeding like a stuck pig. I just knew she was dead.”
“Was she?”
“No. She wasn’t dead. Not quite. But she was beat up pretty bad. And, that wasn’t even the worst part. The guy had cut her, really cut her. She looked like she’d been sliced and diced all over her body. And he even, like, I don’t know how to explain it, scratched something into her stomach. I’d never seen anything like it.”
Oh my God. I freeze, my brain tottering on the edge of overload. I can’t even blink.
“So, Tommy T goes berserk, yelling and cussing, and wanting to know who the fuck did this to his girl. Then, two guys come in dragging this other guy behind them; he’s kicking and screaming, practically foaming at the mouth. Honestly, he looked totally trashed. And totally pissed.
“The guys just shove him on the ground in front of Tommy T, and he stands up, smiling, and says, ‘Kiss my ass. I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.’ Of course, he was covered in blood, and he had this six-inch hunting knife strapped to his waist. I mean, there wasn’t any doubt that he did it. And I thought Tommy T was going to kill him right there in front of us. But he didn’t.”
Adam pauses and shakes his head.
“He just told the guy to leave and never come back. I asked him later why he let him go, and he said because the guy was a cop. And that he was ‘untouchable.’ There were enough people there helping the girl, so I left shortly after. And I never saw the guy again until the day that girl got killed. That day at the lake. He was one of the cops who showed up right after the fight I told you about. I recognized him immediately, and I think he recognized me, too. Needless to say, I tried to stay the hell away from him. Way the hell away from him.”
