Tell Me No Lies (23 page)

“You really didn’t kill Skeet?” Bailey stepped away from him and sank to the couch.

“I told you already that I didn’t. Is that why you wanted me to get out of town so fast that night? I knew I shoulda stayed. When I heard about the poker, I thought
you’d
killed him.”

Bailey’s body shook, and her chest heaved. Sobs came between each breath. “All these years. All for nothing.”

“Not all for nothing. We’re safe. No one knows about our old man.”

“What are we going to do?”

Both were silent, and I shut my eyes to think. I’d learned three things: Skeet had been blackmailing the Norrises in connection with their father’s death, Bailey suspected her brother had killed Skeet, and Charlie had thought she’d done it. One of them had to be lying, because whoever had killed Skeet had used the same kind of weapon that had killed their father.

Or had it been a coincidence after all?

Impossible.

At any rate, if neither of the siblings had committed the murder, that left only Gage and Mia—or a drug deal gone bad.

I hadn’t learned very much at all.

Bailey’s heaving subsided, and she spoke in a much calmer voice. “They’ll never believe us now that we took her.”

“What do you mean?” Charlie sat beside her. I peered at them through my lashes, my eyes open only a crack. Both were staring at me. Charlie was fingering his sparse goatee. His long hair was greasier than I remembered, a few strands escaping his ponytail and lying limply over his ears.

“I mean, once she tells the police what I did to her, they’ll never believe that one of us didn’t kill Skeet. They’ll find out you took the money, and that he was blackmailing us. They’ll find out what happened with Father.”

“What about that cop? He got his dad to drop the case back then.”

“That was because I told him what that monster did to us. He never knew about the poker—I didn’t tell him. I don’t know if he’d help us now.”

“He’s gone on you. I think he would.”

“What could he do?”

They were silent for a long moment, or maybe I lost consciousness. My head ached worse than during overnight inventory at my father’s factory. A dribble of blood leaked from the bandage into my left eye. At least it wasn’t gushing.

“The way I see it,” Bailey said finally, “the only problem is her. If she’s gone, everything stays the same.”

“Not everything. Gage would inherit all that money that investigator you hired said she was going to get, and once you and Gage get married, it’ll be ours. Think of it—half a million and monthly payments, too. We wouldn’t have to worry again.”

“It would make life a lot easier, that’s for sure. Maybe I could quit work and go into the field with him.”

Charlie snorted. “Like you could stand living out of a tent.”

“I wouldn’t mind if I was with Gage.”

“Lie to yourself if you want. I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t care what you think.”

My mind took time deciphering the shocking meaning that seemed to have no relationship to the actual words. The two fed off each other, co-enablers with a distorted sense of right. Knowing about my trust fund only made things worse. Money justified a lot of malicious deeds, as I’d learned from my father and Julian.

“He belongs to me,” Bailey said. “She stole him.”

More silence for the space of several heartbeats, and then Charlie said, “I’ll get rid of the Jeep.”

“Use gloves. Don’t let anyone see you.”

Something had been decided between them, and though exactly what remained unspoken, I knew it meant trouble for me. Charlie disappeared briefly, returning to slip his hand into my back pocket for Gage’s keys. I waited until he was gone before opening my eyes and struggling to a sitting position. Bailey watched me from the couch, her brown eyes placid instead of troubled. That scared me more than anything. Her mind was made up.

I had to try anyway. “Bailey, please let me go. Look, you won’t get the money. The marriage wasn’t valid. Gage was worried I’d have regrets, so he paid a friend to fake it.”

She barked a hoarse laugh. “Sounds like him. Stupid sense of chivalry cost him half a million bucks. Well, the money isn’t as important as getting him. I’m
glad
you aren’t really married.”

“You have to help me prove he’s innocent. Otherwise he won’t marry you, either.”

“I don’t need you. I’ll find my own way.”

“By giving up Charlie to the police? Because the only way Gage will ever be free to live his life is to find the real murderer.”

“Charlie didn’t do it,” she told me, but I could see by the deepening furrow between her eye that I’d made a dent in her armor.

“Maybe he just doesn’t want you to know. Gage didn’t do it, and Charlie’s the one who turned up with the money, so he must have killed Skeet. It’s the only explanation that fits. Look, I called Ridge before I came here, and I told him I thought you were covering for Charlie and that I was coming to see you. It’s only a matter of time before he begins asking questions—especially if I’m missing.” I conveniently left out the fact that I hadn’t actually talked to him. For all I knew, he’d gone out of town for the night and wouldn’t check those messages for days.

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll deny it. Anyway, he’ll do anything for me.”

“Not cover up a murder. He’s dedicated to his job.”

“Your coming here isn’t my fault. He’ll see that.”

“I doubt it. Besides, he let Gage rot in prison, and he was innocent. Why not you?”

“Ridge wasn’t on duty that night. He wasn’t the one who arrested Gage.”

“No, that was your fault.”

She didn’t reply.

“You were worried once Mia started asking questions, weren’t you? Is that why you sent her that threatening note?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t send any note.”

“Sure,” I said. “But Gage knows about the note now. He’ll never forgive you if you hurt Mia or me. He may not love me”—it wounded me to say this—“but he is my friend.”

She jumped to her feet and began pacing. “Shut up, would you? I need to think!”

I’d been testing the tie on my hands and determined it was some kind of tape. No way was I getting out of it easily. “Just let me go, and I won’t tell anyone,” I lied.

She barked a laugh. “Yeah, right, and I’m supposed to believe you?”

“I know about your father. Charlie killed him, right? To protect you from his abuse. I know that makes you feel obligated to him, but what you did to Gage—that’s not love. Tell me, does losing him atone for the six years he spent in prison for a crime he didn’t commit? “

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” she screamed, lashing out at me with the toe of her pump. Pain needled through my thigh where the sharp point hit. “Charlie said he didn’t kill that creep. I believe him.”

She sounded absolutely sure. A chill ran through me. Was it possible she had been the one responsible for Skeet’s death? Had she sacrificed Gage for her own protection?

Yet she’d been so upset with Charlie. I wasn’t sure what to believe.

Bailey began pacing the small room again, and I felt precious time ticking away. Once Charlie returned, my chances of escaping unscathed would plunge considerably.

“Please call Ridge,” I urged. “He’ll know what to do. He really likes you—I saw that right away.”

A hint of a smile flashed over her face. “He’s a kind man. But he isn’t what you think, either. He’s not perfect.”

“Of course not. Neither is Gage. Or me.”

She gave me a flat stare. “You shouldn’t have gotten mixed up with Gage.”

“I’m not mixed up with him.”

She stopped pacing abruptly, her hands curling at her sides. “You think I can’t see how you feel about him? I’m not stupid or blind. You care about him a lot more than you’re saying. You may even love him, and what’s worse, I think he believe he feels something for you.” Venom laced these last words, and her eyes stabbed into mine as though by glaring at me I would either admit to her intelligence or disappear entirely.

Maybe she was right about Gage. I hadn’t imagined the way he’d kissed me and how I’d felt—how we’d felt.

“You’ve got it all wrong,” I said, before hope had a chance to grow any larger than a seed. “Gage will never let himself love anyone.”

Someone slammed through a back door. We both turned at the clatter—me praying for rescue and Bailey with an animal readiness in every line of her slender body. She brought her hands forward, her fingers hooked like claws, though her fingernails were short and blunt, probably from her work in the yard.

“Look what I found.” Charlie came around the corner and into the room, half-dragging, half-carrying a struggling Dylan. I glimpsed shock on Bailey’s face before her features hardened to stone. “He was in the Jeep,” Charlie said. “Hiding in the back seat.”

He released Dylan, who immediately shot toward me, going to his knees and pushing his thin frame into my side. I could feel him shaking. “It’s okay,” I whispered to him before whipping around to face Bailey. “Let him go. He doesn’t know anything. He’s only a kid.”

“Take them to your bedroom,” Bailey said, ignoring me. “I have to think.”

“Bailey!” I shouted as Charlie yanked me to my feet. “Don’t do this!” Next to me Dylan let out a terrified sob.

“Wait,” Bailey said, and Charlie froze. She crossed the three steps between us. Her hand drew back, and she slapped me hard. “Gage is mine. Remember that.”

She nodded tersely at Charlie, who gave her a crooked smile that made him somehow resemble a scrawny rat. His fingers dug into my skin, and his other hand closed around Dylan’s narrow arm.

“I’ll get some rope,” Bailey said, “and meet you there.”

Dylan’s eyes were huge and frightened as Charlie pushed us down the hall. He looked more like Mia than ever, especially when she’d shown me the note. For his sake, I had to do something.

I twisted from Charlie’s grasp and stepped away from him, hitting into the wall of the hallway with more force than I’d intended, and my breath whooshed out of me. Without stopping to see if anything was seriously damaged, I pushed off, slamming into Charlie’s slight frame. He stumbled and hit his head against the wall. It didn’t stop him. Roaring with anger, he came at me.

“Run!” I shouted at Dylan. “Run!” The boy’s eyes opened even wider, but he hesitated only a second before obeying.

Charlie’s fist jabbed my right eye, bringing a slicing, hot pain. Another shot landed in my stomach. I collapsed to the floor on my back, fighting for breath. He came at me again. I lashed out with my feet, taking him by surprise. He fell, but it was a short-lived victory. Uttering a curse, he jumped on me, pinning me with his weight, his fingers biting into my shoulders. “Don’t,” he said close to my face, “do that again.”

I gagged on the rancid smell of his unwashed body and the tobacco on his breath. This close, the rot in his teeth was apparent. I might have felt sorry for him if he weren’t trying to kill me. I wished I could crack my head into his and knock him unconscious, but I suspected that the way things were going, it’d only be me who’d suffer. Besides, my bruised and aching body rebelled at the idea.

“Okay,” I surrendered. I moved my head a bit to see if Dylan had made his escape. If he had, would he know how to get help? We were too far from his house for him to know the way home, and he’d probably been taught to stay away from strangers.

Dylan wasn’t in the hallway, and I allowed myself a sliver of satisfaction as Charlie yanked me to my feet, sending pain echoing through my head and torso. Charlie hesitated then, looking dazed, as though wondering what he should do next. Or maybe pondering the best way to make me pay. Heels clicked on the kitchen tile, coming our way. Bailey.

“Lose something?” she asked, stepping into the carpeted hallway. One hand rested on Dylan’s shoulder. The other held a gun.

I’m sorry,
Dylan’s eyes said. A tear rolled down his cheek. I wanted to take him in my arms and hold him. I started forward, but the world wavered, dark patches appearing in my vision.

Dylan let out a cry as I stumbled and fell into blackness.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

A
soft, persistent touch like butterfly wings on my cheek cut through the pain in my body and my head, drawing me back to a consciousness I really didn’t want. I forced my eyes open and jerked slightly when I saw Dylan’s face close to mine. With a small intake of air, he drew his tied hands back from my cheek, the relief in his eyes evident. I wondered how long I’d been out. For some time, apparently. It was dark outside, the room lit only by a small lamp on the night stand.

I was lying on a bed on my left side, my head on a worn towel that was obviously meant to catch any blood escaping the cloth bandage around my skull. It didn’t feel wet, so that was encouraging. My right eye was swollen, but I could see through it fine. My hands were still tied behind my back. Moving to a sitting position was harder than I expected, and I gave it up halfway through, sinking back to the bed.

“What happened?” I asked.

I meant after I’d passed out in the hall, but Dylan began back at Mia’s. “I knew you were leaving, so I hid in the Jeep. Uncle Gage always finds me, so I thought if I hid in the Jeep he wouldn’t for at least a little while.” He paused before adding, “I’m really sorry.”

I could see he felt bad and that he was worried I’d be angry or that he might have been the reason I was hurt. But though I wished he weren’t here with me, it wasn’t his fault Bailey and her brother were psycho.

“It’s okay,” I said. “We’re going to be okay.”

“Why’s Bailey doing this? Why did that man hurt you?”

This time his anxiety forced me to sit up all the way. Too late I realized my hands had also been secured to the frame of the bed, and my arms wrenched painfully. I slid closer to the edge of the bed until the pressure eased. “It’s about your uncle. You know why he went to prison, right?” I didn’t know how much they had told him, either about Gage’s situation or about his own conception.

“He killed someone?”

I nodded. “Only he didn’t really.”