Tell Me Lies (24 page)

“You can’t,” Maddie said against his shoulder. “Thank you.” His hands closed on her convulsively, claiming her, loving her, wanting her again. She moaned a little and he let go.

“Did I hurt you?” he said, and she snuggled closer.

“Just enough,” she said. “Just exactly enough.”

Desire slammed into him again, and the only thing that kept him sane was the knowledge that she was his, that they were permanent, that as soon as they found Brent and filed for divorce, they’d get married and be together forever.

“I love you,” he whispered against her skin, and then because it had all happened so fast, too fast to pay attention, he started over again.

He smiled up at her, his mouth bruised from fulfilling all her fantasies, and said, “Then don’t come.” His cheek stroked down her stomach, and his hands slid between her legs, and she felt his weight on her thighs before he licked inside her, and her last rational thought was that C. L. Sturgis was a hard man to say no to when you were naked.

“That C.L. is really
cool,”
Mel said. “Like Jason Norris. A little.”

Phoebe begged to be up on the bed, so they hauled her up, too, and hid her under the covers in case somebody came in to do a last-minute bed check.

“He even gave you a
dog”
Mel said.

“Yeah.” Em hugged Phoebe tighter.

Mel pushed harder. “So don’t you like him?”

“No, he’s okay.” Em buried her face in Phoebe’s neck.

“You don’t sound like it.”

“No, I do like him.” Em sat up, too miserable to pretend. “It’s just that the stuff at my house—”

“I know.” Mel nodded. “Your mom’s face. That’s bad.” She leaned over the edge of the bed and almost fell off as she rustled underneath for something, and then she sat up again, all red-faced, with a box of Hostess Cupcakes. “I swiped them from the kitchen. Don’t let Phoebe have any or she’ll throw up on my bed.”

Em wasn’t sure that, after the pizza and the Dairy Queen,
she
wouldn’t throw up on Mel’s bed, but she took a cupcake anyway when Mel handed one over.

“Where’s your dad?” Mel asked when they’d both taken a bite of cake and licked the cream out of the center.

Em felt sick. “Away. On business.”

“Is that what your mom said?”

Em nodded.

Mel shrugged. “Okay.”

She doesn‘t believe that, either,
Em thought, and the thought made her say, “They’re not getting a divorce. C.L. is just somebody that everybody knew back in high school. Even your mom and dad. The only boyfriend my mom ever had was my dad.”

“Same way with my mom and dad.” Mel shook her head at how boring parents could be and took a huge bite of cake. “I wonder who C.L.‘s girlfriend was.”

For some reason, that wasn’t a good thought, either. “Maybe he didn’t have one,” Em said.

“He had one.” Mel sounded sure. “He’s cute. And funny. He had one. Bet he still has one.” She squinted at Em. “He smiles at your mom a lot.”

“They’re old friends,” Em said. “He smiles at your mom, too. And your dad.”

Mel nodded. “You know, if this was a movie—”

“It’s not a movie,” Em said. “Nothing ever happens to people like us.”

“Right,” Mel said. “We’re really boring. Hey, Phoebe’s eating your cupcake!”

“Phoebe!”
Em jerked her mostly eaten cupcake away and laughed in spite of herself at the white cream on Phoebe’s nose. She got up to throw the rest of the cake away, cheered a little. Nothing ever happened to people like her and her mom. And her dad. Em’s heart clutched a little at the thought of her dad. Nothing happened to them. Ever. They were all really boring. All of them. Except C.L. She got back in bed. “Hey, guess what. C.L. taught me this great trick. It’s called a memory picture and you—”

Mel bent forward to listen, and Em pushed everything else out of her mind except what C.L. had taught her.

“H’lo.”

“Who is this?” The
answering bellow was so loud Maddie could hear it.

“Give me the phone,” she hissed, but C.L. had already leaned over to answer, and he had great naked shoulders which fogged her mind further, so she gave up and listened.

“Henry?”

“C.L., what the
hell
are you doing there?”

“Visiting,” C.L. said weakly.

“It’s seven o’clock in the morning, boy.”

“I know, Henry.” C.L. sat up and passed his hand over his eyes, trying to wake up and think fast. “What do you want?”

“I want Maddie Faraday, you shit-for-brains moron. What are you
doing
there?”

Maddie leaned back on the pillows and tried not to laugh. It wasn’t good that Henry knew, and C.L. was so unhappy about the whole mess that it wasn’t fair to enjoy it, but she felt so good from the night before, her body still soft with pleasure and satisfaction, and he looked so great naked in her guest bed, that it was hard not to grin even while her life slid further down the tubes. Besides, Henry had the tightest lips in Frog Point. He wasn’t likely to pass this on.

“I’ll see if she’s here,” C.L. said, and covered the receiver with his hand. “This is my uncle,” he explained to Maddie. “It might be a good idea to try to, uh—”

“Cover up the fact we’re sleeping together?” Maddie grinned. “Can’t be done. I bet he even knows we’re both naked.”

“Well, try to fake it,” C.L. said, irritated. “You always this chipper in the morning?”

“Only after a lot of great sex the night before.” She pulled him down to her, kissing him slowly and thoroughly, remembering him with every cell in her body while she ran her hand down his arm.

C.L. detached himself and uncovered the receiver. “Henry? Can we call you back? Something’s come up here—”

Henry had stopped yelling and Maddie couldn’t hear what he was saying, but it was something important because C.L. sat all the way up away from her. He listened for a moment and then said, “We’ll be right there.”

“What?” Maddie asked as he hung up the phone. “Why will we be right there? What happened to ‘something came up’?”

“They found Brent,” C.L. said, and got out of bed.

His voice was grim and Maddie sat up, too. They’d found Brent. “I didn’t know he was lost,” she said, trying to sound chipper again, but she felt buried. Brent would never get to South America now. She was stuck.

“He’s not lost.” C.L. zipped up his jeans and came back to sit on the side of the bed. He took her hand and said, “This is bad. He’s dead. Somebody shot him at the Point.”

Maddie stared at him. “What? What? What are you talking about?”

“Somebody shot Brent,” C.L. repeated, and Maddie ran the words through her mind, but they were meaningless.

Somebody had shot Brent. Brent was dead. This was impossible. Somebody had shot Brent. After a moment, she looked at C.L. and said, “Who?”

“I don’t know,” C.L. said, getting up to put his shirt on. “I sure hope Henry does, though, because we just gave him a bitch of a motive.”

Brent was dead.

Em would be devastated. She had to get to Em.

“Maddie?” C.L. said, and she shook her head and climbed out of bed.

“Em,” she said. “I have to tell Em.”

“Wait. You have to talk to Henry first. Tell Em later.” C.L. looked miserable as he said her name. “Tell her when you can stay with her.”

Maddie stopped and thought of Em, alone and knowing. “You’re right.”
Em.
“I can’t believe this.” She picked up her clothes from the chair where she’d tossed them, “Henry was sure?”

“Henry doesn’t make mistakes like is it Brent and is he dead,” C.L. said. “That’s not an oops-I’m-sorry kind of announcement. He was sure.”

“I can’t believe this,” Maddie said, and went to get dressed.

“Maddie?” Henry said, and she took a deep breath.

“That’s him,” she said, and turned and walked away from the screen before she passed out. C.L. and Henry followed her out into the corridor, and Maddie leaned against the wall.

“Are you all right?” C.L. took her arm. “Sit down for a minute.”

“I’m fine,” Maddie lied. “Let’s get this over with so I can get to Em.”

Henry gestured to the stairs and they followed him up the two flights to his office.

“Who shot him, Henry?” C.L. asked when they were inside.

“We don’t know as yet.” Henry got them both coffee from the pot on the file cabinet, and when they were both seated, he looked at Maddie. “You got any ideas about this, Maddie?”

Ideas. She wasn’t even up to regular thoughts yet and he wanted ideas. “Well, he was sleeping with another woman. That might have upset somebody besides me.”

“You weren’t that upset,” C.L. said.

“How did you feel about him?” Henry asked.

“Henry,” C.L. began, but Maddie answered him.

“I didn’t like him,” she said. “I was going to file for divorce today. I’d called Jane Henries in Lima.”

C.L. let his breath out between his teeth. “Mad, maybe you shouldn’t say anything else without a lawyer.”

“Why?” She looked at him astonished. “You can’t believe that I’d do this. Besides, I was with you all night.”

Henry glared at C.L., and C.L. sat back and looked at the ceiling. Henry turned back to her. “We’re not interested in last night.”

Maddie blinked. “But when—”

“We won’t know for sure until the coroner’s report, but we’re figuring sometime Friday night, Saturday morning.”

“Friday?” That was more than two days ago. He’d been dead for that long? While she and Em had gone to the bank and had Burger King, he’d been dead at the Point? It was impossible. And she’d sold his clothes and he’d been dead, and they’d eaten pizza and he’d been dead, and she and C.L.—

Maddie put her face in her hands. It was too much.

Henry’s voice brought her back. “What were you doing Friday night, Maddie?”

“Friday.” What was she doing Friday night? Her self-preservation instincts kicked in. Oh, Lord. She’d been coming all over Frog Point with C.L. Getting slapped around by her husband. Locking herself in her room. This wasn’t good. “He wasn’t dead Friday night,” she told him. “He was home until a little after one on Saturday morning. That was the last time I saw him.” He’d left the house and went off to get shot, just like that. “Dear God.”

C.L. stood up. “Henry, let me take her home. She’s had a shock. You can ask questions later.”

“You feel you’re in shock, Maddie?” Henry asked.

Maddie did feel wobbly. “I feel sort of stunned, but I don’t think that’s shock. My head hurts.”

Henry leaned forward a little. “You look like someone’s been hitting you.

“Henry,”
C.L. began, “this is not what I expect from you,” and his uncle zeroed in on him.

“Well, I wasn’t
expecting
to call a woman whose husband has just been murdered and find you in her bed, either.”

C.L.‘s exasperation evaporated. “I can explain that,” he said, and Maddie looked at him with gloomy interest.
This should be good,
she thought.
I’m not sure I can explain it myself.

Henry leaned back. “I’m waiting.”

C.L. did his imitation of virtue. “Well, with the prowler and everything, I didn’t think Maddie should be alone.”

Henry didn’t look impressed. “That’s right neighborly of you, boy. What were you doing in her bed?”

“We’d sort of spent the weekend together.” C.L. was not enjoying this. “I was looking for Brent Friday night, and since he wasn’t home, Maddie and I got to talking.”

“That’s it? Talking?”

C.L. sat back down again. “Well, see, Henry, she was thinking about a divorce, and we . . . discussed it.”

Henry lowered his head. “C.L., if you think I’m going—”

“We made love at the Point Friday night, Henry,” Maddie said. “And then C.L. dropped me off at home about one. And Brent was there, and he was mad, and he hit me, and I told him I wanted a divorce and locked myself in the bedroom. And then he left. And I’d already called Jane Henries and told her I wanted a divorce and she’d said to come in today.” Maddie stopped, taken by a thought. “I guess I don’t need her after all.”

“Don’t be too sure,” C.L. said grimly. He stood up. “We’re going.”

“About one A.M.” Henry glared at C.L. again. “Did you see Brent Faraday when you dropped Maddie off?”

“No. Unfortunately, no.”

“Why unfortunately?”

“Because that’s when he hit her,” C.L. exploded. “Goddammit, Henry—”

“Sit down, C.L.” Henry turned his big head to Maddie, ignoring his nephew, who sat down. “Where did he go when he left you?”

“I don’t know.” Maddie slumped back in her chair and told Henry everything she knew about that night. “She only said that one word,” she finished. “ ‘Fine.’ She sounded mad, but then he’d just told her it was over, so that’s understandable. But I couldn’t tell much from one word.”

“And there wasn’t anything else that seemed strange to you,” Henry said. “Everything else was normal.”

“Well, there was the two hundred and eighty thousand dollars I found in the safe-deposit box on Saturday, and the forty thousand I found in the golf bag on Sunday,” Maddie said. “That upset me some.”

C.L. turned his glare from Henry to her.
“What?
And you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t tell anybody,” Maddie said. “I thought he needed it to get to Rio.”

Fifteen minutes later, Henry had his head in his hands. “So the money in the safe deposit came from Stan,” he said. “And the forty thousand in the golf bag—”

“I don’t know,” Maddie said.

“And you left everything in the box—”

“Except for Em’s passport,” Maddie finished. “I thought Brent had come back for the key on Saturday night because whoever it was had a key to the house and went right to the desk.” She stopped, appalled by a new thought. “But Brent was dead by Saturday night. So whoever killed him took his house key and came looking for something.”

“Not necessarily,” Henry began, and C.L. announced, “We are changing all the locks today.”

Henry shook his head. “It didn’t need to be somebody with a key. The burglary report said your locks could be popped with a credit card. Still, I think you’re right, C.L. Better change the locks.” He smiled at Maddie. “We want to keep you safe.”

“Thank you,” Maddie said, beginning to feel very uneasy. Henry wasn’t the smiling type.

“You don’t happen to own a gun, do you?” Henry said, still smiling.

“Henry, that’s about enough,” C.L. said.

“Because there doesn’t appear to be one registered to you or Brent, but we’d be real understanding if you just turned one in.”

“I don’t own a gun,” Maddie said at the same time C.L. stood up and said, “We’re going.”

“C.L.,” Henry said. “You don’t seem to understand the situation. What I got here are two people with great motives and no alibis.”

“Henry,” C.L. said with exaggerated patience. “Why would we shoot him when she could get a divorce?”

“More money if she’s a widow.”

“She owns a quarter of the company,” C.L. said.

Maddie jerked her head up. How did he know that?

“And I’m doing very well, thanks,” C.L. went on. “A divorce would have been fine.”

Henry sighed. “You just better pray nothing else turns up against you.”

“Nothing will,” C.L. said.

“I just have a few more questions—” Henry said.

“No you don’t.” C.L. grabbed Maddie’s hand and hauled her to her feet. “I don’t like the way this conversation is going. She doesn’t answer anything else without a lawyer.”

Henry scowled at him. “Whose side are you on, boy?”

“Hers,” C.L. said. “First, last, and always. And she has to go tell her kid her father’s dead while I get her some new locks and a lawyer. You don’t need her now. Hell, it’s not like she’s going anyplace.”

“Neither one of you is going anyplace,” Henry said. “Don’t even think about leaving town. You, too, C.L.”

Maddie had to fight back a laugh. Leave Frog Point? “Where would I go?” she asked him.

“There will be no problem with my staying,” C.L. said with dignity. “I have no intention of leaving Maddie while you’re thinking dumb thoughts. I assume I can still have the back bedroom?”

“Yeah, and you be there tonight,” Henry said. “It’s too damn early to be consoling widows.”

She was a widow now. Everything was surreal, and she was a widow. C.L. tugged her toward the door.

“We’ll call you when we get the lawyer,” C.L. said to Henry, and then he pushed her out the door.