Deadly Lies (38 page)

Confident that his box would escape detection amid all of the other junk in the garage, he stepped back. Mike and Emma were pack rats. The evidence of this behavior was all around in the accumulation of tools and household items that were as good as abandoned within the walls of this dusty tomb. A search warrant wouldn’t include the buildings outside his own house, so it would be safe here, for an indefinite period.

The silence of the garage was at fierce odds with the buzzing in his head. It seemed as if the crowd noise from the restaurant had followed him here. Only it wasn’t the laughing voices of strangers that filled his head now. It was the clamor of his own thoughts, and he desperately wanted to shut them out.

There was now no doubt in his mind that Jill was Lilith Fair and that Lilith Fair was linked to the two San Francisco murders. Lilith was stalking men online and setting up dates. He’d traced her identity to Jill. How much longer would it take Luka, or someone else?

Granted, Jill had been careful. She’d covered her tracks after she’d pulled down Lilith’s online profile, and he’d made a few leaps in logic to connect Jill to the crimes. But there were still loose ends that could be used to trace her identity.

Some of those loose ends were packed away in the box he’d just finished stowing in this garage and would remain buried until he figured out just what he was going to do with this new information. The files he’d received from Luka, the credit-card bills, his notes—he’d cleared it all out of his office, just in case someone came looking. And someone would. Eventually.

That left the question of what to do about Jill. Alex ran his hand across his burning eyes. It wasn’t just his dust allergies kicking in. The weight of the situation coupled with the lack of sleep made it difficult for him to think. He felt numb.

The choices were limited, really. He could turn Jill in, hire a good lawyer, and hope for the best. He could let her go. But one thing was for damned sure: life would never go back to the way it was. There was another option, one that remained barely acknowledged. He had a gun. He wouldn’t be the first officer to use his firearm to make his problems go away.

His hands clenched as anger burned through his veins like battery acid. How could he have not seen what Jill had become? Molly had seen it. Molly had shied away from her weeks ago, and he had given it little credence. How could he have been so blind? How could he have missed the dark transformation that she had undergone? None of it made sense. Why would Jill do this?

As if working on their own volition, his eyes strayed to the corner where he’d stashed the box. If he was planning to turn her in, why had he bothered to stow the box at all? After all, he had sworn to uphold the law. It was the right thing. But it wasn’t quite that simple when it came to Jill.

Alex flinched at the sound of a slamming car door. He needed to get out of here before Mike made it home. The last thing he wanted
to do was explain to his brother why he was here. Was it only a few days ago that Mike tried talk to him about Jill? How many times had he defended her?

Casting a last glance over his shoulder, Alex extinguished the lights and headed for the door. A quick glimpse of the street outside the house told him that Mike’s car was nowhere to be found. Relief flooded through him, and, hunching his shoulders against the fierce wind, he headed back toward his Jeep.

“Alex?”

His heart stalled at the sound of her voice. The strong wind swirled her blond hair around her delicate face, her wide eyes inquisitive. He stifled a curse. He was tired of lies, but it seemed like there was at least one more he’d need to tell.

“Emma, I didn’t know you were home.” His lips twisted into a lopsided grin, and he took a step toward her. The circle of light from the streetlight penetrated the darkness and cast a pale glow on her ethereal face.

“I thought I saw your car. Why don’t you come inside? Mike’s not home from work yet. I was going to order Chinese, if you’d like to stay. To be honest, you’d be doing me a favor. Storms always sort of freak me out, and they say it’s going to be a good one. I’d love the company.”

Her self-deprecating smile made his heart twist painfully as he looked at her. Closing the distance between them, he took her cold hands in his. His eyes drifted down, catching sight of their intertwined fingers before he let his hands fall to his sides.

“Sorry, I can’t stay, and you should get inside.”

“Are you okay, Alex? You look—”

“Tired?” he finished for her.

Alex could read the concern on her face as she looked up at him, and he could only imagine what she saw there. Those keen reporter instincts wouldn’t allow him to hide for long, which was yet another reason he needed to get out of here. Fast.

“It’s been a rough week.” He forced a smile.

“That’s the understatement of the year.”

“Yeah.” Alex cleared his throat and looked over toward the garage. “Hope you don’t mind, but I was poking around to see if I could find my drill. I’ve got a couple projects I’ve been putting on hold while my arm healed and well … I thought I’d lent it to Mike, but I didn’t see it in there.”

“Maybe it’s in the house. Why don’t you come take a look?”

“It’s okay, another time.” He hoped that Emma didn’t catch the note of finality in his voice. Turning his eyes back toward her, he gripped her elbow, gently spinning her around.

“You should get inside though. The rain’s going to start soon, and there is no point in getting wet.”

“Not you, too,” she grumbled. “I’m getting enough smothering from Mike. I don’t know if I could take it if you started to hound me.”

“That’s what brothers do.”

Emma’s laugh was muted, as if she still sensed there was more to his visit than he was letting on.

“Tell Mike I’ll give him a call this weekend.”

“You sure you don’t want to stay?”

Alex paused, staring long at Emma before he was able to answer.

“Jill will be home soon. I’ve got to run.”

Emma nodded, and without another word he headed to his Jeep. Climbing behind the wheel, he took one last look at the house. Emma stood with her arms folded, hair flying in the wind. She didn’t take her eyes off him as he waved and pulled out into the street just as the first hard pellets of sleet began to fall.

CHAPTER FIFTY THREE

J
ill stepped through the back door into the kitchen. The heels of her boots echoed on the hardwood floor. The room was in shadow, the stove’s light casting a faint, eerie glow.

Jill scanned the room. This place where she had spent so much time felt different somehow. The granite countertops shone hard and slick. Not a dish out of place. This room where she had laughed with Alex was now silent, impenetrable.

She closed the door behind her, shoulders hunched, feeling the weight of her decision pulling her inward. Her gaze drifted across the room to the glossy surface of the refrigerator—the stainless steel doors smooth and without a smudge. Her mind flashed years ahead in an instant. Noisy kids running through the kitchen, sticky fingerprints on the refrigerator door handles, artwork pinned to the surface with small, colorful magnets.
All the things that might have been
.

She pressed her hands on the cold surface of the countertop, steadying herself. Drawing in a deep, sobering breath, she could smell the ripe apples sitting in a ceramic bowl on the island, their ruby-red skin lending a cheerful splash of color to the room. Beside her hand, a stack of mail was placed near the counter’s edge—a mix of junk mail, bills, and catalogs. Evidence of their everyday life together.

Jill had no time to waste. She had already been to the bank, pulling out as much cash as she dared. Some of it she had used to purchase a
train ticket. Alex would be home soon, and she needed to be well on her way before he walked through the door.

She straightened, shifting her weight between her feet. Tension bowed her shoulders, a dull ache winding its way down to her lower back. Her right hand rested on the drawer where she had stashed her gun. She’d need to take that with her. Pushing away from the island, she started, her heart slamming into her rib cage as her eyes caught sight of him.

Alex sat silently in a chair at the kitchen table, watching her intently, his eyes almost black in the darkness. She studied him for a long moment, his expression blank, revealing no clues. She saw the liquor bottle sitting in front of him beside the empty tumbler. The coppery tang of fear filled her mouth, and she remembered her stepfather’s stony silence. Dread knotted her stomach, and she felt like she was caught in the eye of the storm.

“When did you get home?” she asked, fighting to keep her voice neutral.

“A while ago.” He leaned back in the chair, his arms hanging slack at his sides. “Where have you been?” His tone was demanding.

She averted her gaze and forced a light smile. “I met Megan for a drink. She got hung up at work, so we met at the Red Door instead.”

He turned his head to the side, rolling his eyes in exasperation.

“Come on Jill, we both know that you didn’t meet Megan tonight.” His eyes shredded her as he continued to study her face. She felt chilled by his gaze, once loving, now cold, as if he was looking into the face of a stranger.

There was a hard edge to his voice as he continued.

“We both know why you were at the bar. Enough games. Enough lies already. Where have you been?” His open hand struck the surface of the table with a loud smack. The glass rattled.

Jill took a step backward and leaned against the island for a moment, grasping for a response. She sensed the fury coiled beneath his icy exterior as she continued.

“I took a drive to clear my head.”

Alex shook his head, his hard eyes still boring into hers.

“I know, Jill. I fucking know what you’ve been doing. Stop lying to me.”

He picked up the glass and flung it across the room. It shattered against the door frame in an explosion of glittering shards. She jumped at the violent outburst. He turned his head and peered out the window, his sharp profile etched in the glass behind him.

“I know what you’ve been doing, Jill. I wish to God I didn’t.”

She surveyed his hands clenched tightly into fists, the long, tapering fingers that could bring images to life on paper now squeezed so tight that his knuckles turned white. Hands that had gently stroked her hair and touched every inch of her body. These were Alex’s hands, strong and powerful, yet capable of such tenderness, balled into fists of rage because of her.

Her throat tightened, making it hard for her to breathe. He knew her dark secrets, she reminded herself. Her worst fears had been confirmed. A ragged breath filled her lungs, and she stifled the urge to scream. If she knew Alex, he was already two steps ahead.

Jill’s heart pounded. Sweat dampened her palms. She had to act now. With each passing second, control was slipping away. It took all of her self-discipline not to give into her fear and go for the gun.

She knew Alex was waiting, and he’d already planned his next move. She had to hold back until she understood what game he was playing. There were no second chances.

“Okay, so you know,” she prodded him. “How did you find out?”

His smile was bitter in the darkened room. He leaned forward, resting elbows on the table.

“You’re not as smart as you think you are. I’ve been tracking your online movements. I know what sites you’ve been visiting, who you’ve been messaging. By the way, Mark sends his regards.”

“Fuck.”

She shook her head. One stupid mistake had cost her everything.

“Who have you been working with?” Her voice was rock steady as she worked out the logistics of her plan. “How did you get involved in the case?”

“Luka Petrovich, the San Francisco detective I was working with on the Honeywell case, asked me to look into the online-dating angle of his two open homicides.” Alex paused and held her gaze. “Imagine my surprise.”

“Small world,” she said, mocking him.

He jumped to his feet. The chair clattered against the window behind him.

“So that’s all you have to say for yourself? Who the fuck are you?”

He shook his head as he rounded the table and stalked toward her. She shrank from the fury she saw burning in his eyes.

“You know me,” she said finding her voice at last. “I’m your wife, the same woman you sleep beside every night.”

Alex shook his head as he stopped in front of her, flexing his hands as if he was trying desperately to control the urge to hit her. He placed one hand on either side of her, deliberately trapping her against the island as he leaned in. She could smell the whiskey on his hot breath. The loathing in his eyes was hauntingly familiar. She’d seen the look before, in her stepfather’s eyes.

“You’re not the woman I married. You may look like her. But the woman I know would never have done the things that you’ve done. I don’t know you, Jill. I wonder if I ever did.”

“Don’t be so naïve, Alex.” Her voice gained strength as she stood straight, refusing to shrink from him, her own anger building. “You can’t imagine anyone taking matters into their own hands?”

“Take matters into your own hands? As in self-defense?” He choked out a dry laugh. “I may seem stupid. God knows, you’ve had me fooled for a long time. What you did to those men sure looks like cold-blooded murder from where I’m standing. What gave you the right?”

Jill’s eyes narrowed and her hand snaked up, ready to slap him hard. He reacted quickly and caught her arm before she was able to
strike, holding her wrist aloft as his eyes bore into hers. Her lips curled into a sneer.

“What do you know about it? What do you know about any of it?”

“I know you had an affair with Jamie King. I know you went to Lake Tahoe the day that he died. I know there were two men found dead in San Francisco. They had the bad luck to meet a woman called Lilith. Sound familiar? Those men had families. And I know you’re framing Dana Evans for your crimes.”

“Don’t worry about Dana Evans. She’ll be fine as long as no one finds the gun, and let me tell you something about Jamie King. He was going to squeeze me out of my position and make my work life a living hell. What right did he have to jeopardize my career? What happened to Jamie was an accident, but I can’t honestly say that I was sorry to see him die.