Liar, page 19
“It’s okay.” I look at the waiter. “Just put mine in a to-go box, too.”
The waiter turns around and hauls ass back to the kitchen with the tray.
“I’m sorry, Billie. I feel like a real jerk.” He reaches out to take my hand, and I almost snatch it away.
“Oh, no. Don’t worry about it. You’re a big time police detective now. I know your work is important.”
He smiles. “Yeah. The glamorous, busy life of a police detective. It’s not that bad except that I’m always on call. Well, except for Thursdays,” he adds thoughtfully. “That’s my workout night at the gym. Everyone knows not to bother me on Thursday nights.”
“Oh... Is that how you got all those?” I wag my finger at his huge arms.
“Yeah. I got tired of getting my ass kicked all the time.” He laughs. “So I’ve been working out religiously for a few years now.”
“Here you are, sir.”
As Derek takes the food from the waiter, I slide the bloody napkin under the table and work it into the baggie.
Derek hands me my box. “Ready?”
“Yeah.”
He waits while I slide out of the booth. I toss a fifty behind me on the table as we walk away. Lord knows, Brittney earned it. Besides being the victim of Derek’s outrageous abuse, she’s been a real lifesaver for me tonight.
Outside, Derek walks me to my car. “Say, do you still live in the same place?”
“Uh... Yeah. Mom and Dad’s old place.” Please don’t try to come over.
“I may try to come over some time, then.”
“Oh. That would be... great.” Shit.
“Okay, then. I’ll talk to you soon?” Moving toward me, he’s all muscles and lips, and I snap my head to the side so he can kiss my cheek. If he’s disappointed, he doesn’t show it when he hugs me goodbye.
“See you later.” I smile and fall into the driver’s seat. He closes the door with a wave, and I exhale with a puff of my cheeks.
I dig out my phone as I watch him walk across the lot and hop inside a newer model, white convertible Camaro. Nice car. And not exactly hard to miss.
Quickly, I send a text to Sami. “Got it. On my way.” I’m very careful not to text more than a few words. We’ve all agreed that, if we’re going to do this, we can only talk about it face-to-face and at our meetings, if at all possible. No phone calls. No texts.
They’re parked at the edge of Luby’s parking lot, and I see them before I even pull in. I roll up beside them and get out, swiveling my head back and forth, totally paranoid like I just farted in a movie theater or something. I park, grab my purse and my to-go box and run around to Sami’s car where I jump in the back seat, keeping my head down low.
“What’s wrong with you?” Sami stares into her rear-view mirror, watching me hunker down in the back seat.
“Is he following you?” Candy asks, alarmed, stretching her neck to look up and down the street.
“Nothing. No.” I answer both their questions at once, irritably. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m just scared to death Adam’s going to see me or something.”
“Who’s Adam?”
Oh, shit. “Uh... No one. A friend.” Well, there’s my first fuck-up. I try to move on quickly. “But hey. Guess what? I brought you a cheeseburger.”
I hand Candy the to-go box and she opens it. They both dig into the fries immediately. Then, I pull out the baggie with the napkin, holding it up like a prized possession.
“No, I told you,” Candy says, looking disappointed. “I need something like a fork or a glass.”
“How about something with his blood on it, instead?” I smirk.
“Seriously?” Candy’s already big eyes grow huge as she snatches the bag from my hand.
“What did you do? Smack him in the face before you left?” Sami looks exasperated.
“Of course not. I’m not dumb enough to poke an angry bear.” I shake my head. “I didn’t do anything. The waitress stabbed him.”
“What?” Candy and Sami ask in unison, not believing what I just said.
“No. Not like that. It was an accident,” I explain.
“The waitress accidentally stabbed Derek?” Sami repeats, as if that might help me realize how ridiculous I sound.
“No. I mean, yes. With a pencil. After he spilled his tea.” I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. Here’s his blood. Now you can see if it matches the blood they found on Tonya’s clothes.”
“Well, remind me to never go to that restaurant again,” Candy says as she stuffs the baggie in her pursue. “I didn’t know they had such a strict policy on spilling.”
Sami nods in agreement.
“Okay. I gotta go. Call me as soon as you find something.” I open the car door and step out.
Candy waves. “I will. Talk to you shortly.”
“Good job!” Sami shouts as she starts the car.
I close the door and jog back around to my car.
Whew! My nerves are totally shot. Twice, I almost turn down the wrong street and head back to my house, instead of Adam’s. But I catch myself in time, and I stay straight on Roosevelt. Then, before I know it, I’ve driven past the street that I do actually need to turn on.
“Fuck.” I stretch my neck around like a giraffe, checking all my mirrors. I can’t turn around in the middle of the street; there are too many cars crawling up my ass. So I decide to just take the long way back to Adam’s.
A couple more blocks, and I find myself driving past Albus’ gym. Something catches my eye.
Well, what do you know? There’s a white, convertible Camaro in the parking lot. I know what kind of police business he’s conducting there, alright. I put on my blinker and turn into the music store across the street, parking to face the gym.
Chapter Twenty-One
With a big Tahoe on one side of me and a Ford SUV on the other, I feel pretty inconspicuous. I reach under the seat for my trusty binoculars. They’re the only present Dave has ever given me that I really appreciate the hell out of. I use them all the time for the job. Now, they’re coming in handy for other reasons, too.
Raising the binoculars to my eyes, I position them comfortably on the bridge of my nose and zero in on the glass windows of the gym. Derek is nowhere to be seen, but I’m not ready to give up quite yet. I settle back into my seat, resting the binoculars in my lap, and watch the windows. There are a few other men inside, all either lifting weights or working their asses off on the cardio machines. From here, they all look normal-sized, like Adam, and I suspect they don’t realize the kind of business that actually gets transacted at this gym.
A few minutes later, I see a commotion inside and pick up my binoculars again to take a look. Sure enough, Derek and Albus come out of the office with the little manager creep, and they’re all laughing and just generally jerking each other off. I figure Derek must have gotten a great deal on some more ’Roids or something. I mean, he’s obviously using. There’s no way he could have gone from the skinny, pimply little shrimp I knew in school to this muscle-headed maniac in front of me with just plain, old-fashioned sweat. He’s had some major help. That probably explains the mood swings and the homicidal anger issues, not that I’m a doctor or anything. But I hear those things can make you crazy.
Derek shakes hands with the manager and then he and Albus walk outside. My binoculars follow them as they stroll across the parking lot and stand beside Derek’s car. Whatever they’re talking about, Albus looks pretty excited. Derek just stands there, nodding mostly. I figure Albus is the alpha in the relationship, whatever that relationship might be, and Derek is the bitch.
Glancing at my clock, I’m anxious about getting home late and having to lie again. This is exactly why I stay away from relationships, all the lying you have to do. This stuff builds up on a person’s conscience after a while and before you know it, I’ll be as crazy as Derek.
Albus suddenly wags his finger at Derek, and I can’t tell if he’s threatening him or if he’s just trying to make a point. Either way, Derek’s not happy about it. His shoulders sag and his head droops, staring at his feet like a scolded schoolboy. Finally, he nods and Albus walks away. Derek stares daggers into his back before climbing into his car and leaving.
Hm. I’m not sure what all that was about. But I’d bet, dollars to donuts, Derek’s on Albus’ payroll. I start my car and roll to the street, ready to head to Adam’s now. I have a lot to think about.
Using my key, I walk into Adam’s apartment feeling like an intruder. After last night’s welcome home, I almost expect a marching band or a parade, but it’s quiet tonight. His jacket and shoes are in the living room, so I suspect he’s home. Louisa has his dinner on the table, too, which she wouldn’t have done unless he was here.
Strolling to the table, I check out the spread that Louisa left. Mm. Pork chops. My stomach growls, and I’m suddenly painfully aware she left only one plate. I never did eat this afternoon, and got rid of the cheeseburger from Dixie’s so Adam wouldn’t get suspicious. Now, my stomach is pissed.
Shaking it off, I creep down the hall toward the bedroom, but stop when I hear the sound of Adam’s voice in his office. With the door cracked, I rest my face against it waiting for a good time to interrupt. Unfortunately, he’s so engrossed in his conversation and multitasking with his laptop that the opportunity never presents itself. He doesn’t even notice me.
“Dammit, Ron. Sixty-four thousand dollars is not something I can just ignore. I won’t ignore it.”
Stepping back into the hallway, I tell myself to walk away and not listen. With every intention of returning to the living room until he’s done, I end up just standing there instead. What’s that old saying that my mother used to throw at me? “Listeners ne’er hear good about themselves.” Boy, ain’t that the truth?
On the other hand, this man wants me to move in with him, and I really should know what I’m getting into before things go too far. Trapped by the angel on my right shoulder and the devil on my left, my own favorite proverb keeps running through my head. “The key to good eavesdropping is not getting caught.” Standing there, I debate the pros and cons of eavesdropping while I listen intently to Adam’s conversation. Can I help it if he keeps talking while I’m trying to decide?
“Ron, I’ve asked you nicely, twice, as a matter of fact. I won’t ask you for it again. You know I’m not a ball buster, but the last time we spoke, I warned you what would happen.”
Quickly deciding that my mother was right and I shouldn’t be listening, I still can’t muster the strength to walk away. I know what he does for a living and I know it’s not exactly on the up and up. But it’s different hearing him actually doing it. He’s right. There are some things that I just shouldn’t know about.
“Well, if you don’t have the money, then choose a fucking kneecap, my friend. My advice is to pick wisely because you’ll have to do without it for about eight weeks while it heals. It’s that simple.”
Okay. I’m leaving now. Come on, legs. Move! Apparently, my kneecaps have taken Adam’s threat personally because they refuse to cooperate. So I continue standing there like a lobotomy patient in a Starbucks line.
He sighs loudly. “I tell you what. Maybe we can make some kind of a deal. I do have a job that I need taken care of. If you want it, I’ll take the forty-five thousand that you have right now, and we’ll call it a day.” He’s talking much lower now, and I’m struggling to catch everything. “Alright, then. His name is Derek. Derek Hines. Yeah, that’s him. Derek, the cop.”
What the fuck? I lay down on the ground and belly crawl like Private Ryan up to the doorway, straining to hear.
“Fine. Forty thousand. That’s it, though. He’s just a cop, not the chief of police. And Ron...” Another pause. “Friend or not, there won’t be any more forgiveness on this debt.”
Oh my God. He’s going to have Derek killed. Because of me. What if he gets caught? What if something goes wrong? I can’t let him do this.
“That sounds good. Friday at six. Where? Yeah. I think I know where that is.”
Where? I need to know. I also need to get the hell out of here. Creeping further back down the hall, I take off my shoes and run like hell back toward the entryway, slipping and sliding across the marble floors until I reach the front door. Looking around nervously, I open and slam the front door and toss my shoes beside his in the living room while I pull off my jacket.
“Adam?” I shout. “Are you here?”
He doesn’t reply so I walk toward the kitchen. “Oooh, Adam!” I half-shout, half sing.
“Well, hey there, sexy.” He walks down the hall toward me, smiling sweetly. “I thought you had a meeting tonight?”
Sauntering toward him, I try to block out the conversation I just overheard. “Oh, we finished up early tonight and honestly, I was tired and ready to get home.”
“Really?” He strokes my face. “Ready to get home to me?”
“What do you think?”
“I hope you were wanting to get home to me.”
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I twist my fingers in his silky hair. “Well, yes. I... uh... I missed you.”
“You missed me?” He smiles, his eyes warm and inviting. “Me?”
“Yes. You.” I giggle.
He kisses me softly. “I missed you, too. In fact, I was just in there planning a surprise for you.”
“What? For me?” Surely, he’s not going to tell that he’s doing this for me? I can’t let him commit murder for me. I don’t want him to carry that burden around for the rest of his life.
“Yeah.” He hugs me tighter, nuzzling my neck. “I thought we might take a trip.”
“A trip?”
“Yeah. I think it’ll be fun.”
“When? Where?”
“Well, I’ve been dreaming about you naked on a warm beach since the first night we met. So I was thinking a short trip, maybe a few days next week in Cancun?”
Stepping back, I look at him like he’s nuts. “Cancun? In Mexico?”
“That’s the only one I know of.” He laughs.
“I can’t go to Cancun. I don’t even have a passport.” Do I need a passport to go there?
“Oh. Well, not a problem. We can hit the beach in Maui instead. But we really need to get you a passport.”
My mouth opens and then closes again, no words coming out. “I can’t just drop everything with a few days’ notice and run off to Maui or Cancun or any other tropical paradise.”
“Why not? When’s the last time you took a vacation from work?”
“I just took off a whole day a couple of months ago. I had to go get a root canal.” Geez. I’m pathetic.
“A whole day?” He mocks me. “And that’s not a vacation. That’s called an appointment. When’s the last time you had a real vacation? One where you actually took off work and did something fun?”
That’s a great question. I have no idea. Surely, I’ve been somewhere in the not too distant past. Haven’t I?
“Okay. If you have to think that hard about it, it’s been too long.”
“Adam, I can’t afford to miss one day of work, much less three. And, I sure can’t afford a trip to Hawaii.”
“Do you think I’d actually ask you to pay for anything?” He looks hurt. Great, I feel like shit again. “This is as much for me as it is for you. I have it covered. And I really want to get away a few days next week.”
“What’s the sudden urgency?”
His phone conversation replays in my head. Oh... He doesn’t want to be around when it happens. That’s exactly what this is about.
“I just want to get away for a few days. And lie around naked on a beach with my beautiful Betty. So, tell your boss you need to take Wednesday, Thursday and Friday off next week.”
“I... I...” What? I don’t even know what to say.
He presses his finger against my lips. “Shh... I’ll make this easy for you. You tell him, or I will.”
Well, okay, then. Guess I’m going to Maui next week. Why am I sad about this? I’m fucking going to Maui next week! Smiling, I nod.
“Now that’s settled, let’s eat. Are you hungry?”
He heads to the kitchen, and I follow, smiling as I remember the scene with Albus and Derek in the parking lot. I suppose Adam’s the alpha in this relationship and I’m the bitch. I can live with that.
Two hours and two pork chops later, we relax on the couch, a bowl of popcorn between us while we watch an old rerun of Cops. Somewhere nearby, my phone chirps. But I can’t remember where I left it.
“Here it is.” Adam reaches into my pocket and produces my phone, glancing at it before he passes it to me. “Candy?”
Yikes! “Yeah. That’s one of my friends,” I blurt and all but snatch the phone from his hand.
“Ooh... Is she the one who taught you how to dance like that the other night?” He wiggles his eyebrows, obviously still excited about my striptease. I have to say, that did end up being one of my better ideas.
“Why would you think that? Because her name is Candy?”
He looks at me innocently, and I let him off the hook easy. “No. Candy is one of the glee club ladies.”
Sitting up, I clutch the phone close to me and hold my breath as I open the text.
“FYI - I was able to find a gr8 dress tonight. Matches the shoes perfectly. We need to coordinate. See u tomorrow.”
It takes me a minute to figure out what she’s trying to say.
I knew it! I fucking knew it.
“She’s texting you about a dress and some shoes?”
Raising my head, I find Adam reading over my shoulder. Annoyed, I give him a push, but he doesn’t budge. The guy’s solid as a rock.
“Well, first of all, Mr. Lesser, we have a performance coming up and we have to match. And secondly, I am a girl, you know? Sometimes, we like to discuss shoes. And lastly, it’s not polite to eavesdrop on people.” Yes, the irony here is not lost on me.
“Allow me to respond.” He grins. “First, I am well aware that you’re a girl, Miss Shaw. Believe me. Very well aware.”
He slides his hands beneath my thighs and cups my behind, squeezing and pinching and making a real meal of it. I wiggle and giggle, really feeling like a girl now.
