The Truth About Air & Water (Truth in Lies #2) (14 page)

“I don’t have his money,” I say looking only at Davis. He raises an eyebrow and then looks around the room at everyone else soliciting their support. Suddenly, I’m very tired. I think the stress of all of this has finally caught up to me. That and the fact that life, as I know it, is being dismantled right in front of me by Linc’s father. “We haven’t co-mingled our funds or our stuff,” I say with disquiet. “He’s been mostly living at the guest house. We were trying to keep things fairly normal for Cara until we got married.”

“Which isn’t happening
now
or any time soon.”

The vehemence with which Davis has said this is both devastating and alarming all over again. I can’t quite hide the sudden onset of panic. I start to shake. My heart beats wildly out of control.
No panic attack now. Not in front of all these people. That will just make me look even more guilty.

Keep it together. Keep it together.

“We need to find the money,” Kimberley says to me gently from my far left.

I slowly nod, shamed into silence however innocent I might be. My mind races.
What did Linc do with the money?

This is a nightmare. It just got worse for me. His father thinks I’ve stolen Linc’s money. Linc’s family looks at me with a renewed sense of distrust except for Charlie and Marla.

Even Kimberley looks unsure of herself. She bites at her lip and stares at me, as if by doing so long enough, I will come up with a different answer they can all live with. Then she shrugs, helpless all at once. “We need to find the money, Tally,” she says again.

“Yes, we do,” I say as the accusation begins to resonate with the entire room made up mostly of Linc’s family, and I begin to feel more uneasy.

“Come on. This is ridiculous!” Marla glares over at Davis, but looks less certain as she takes in the grim expressions all around the table.

Where is the money?
I can see them all thinking it as they take turns looking at me as if I’ll suddenly have a different answer from
I don’t know
.

We never talked about the money. I handed Linc the check for six million dollars and we moved on. Obviously, this crowd doesn’t believe that particular scenario. The silence around the room gets deafening. I focus on breathing while my head swirls with endless possibilities as to what Linc actually did with the money.

“I didn’t take it,” I finally whisper to Marla when the silence becomes almost unbearable.

“I know,” she says grabbing one of my hands.

Charlie loosely puts his arm around my shoulders. “We’ll find the money, Tally.”

“Sure. I know.” I give them both a weak smile.

But then, Davis decides to have the last word as he slowly makes his way to the conference room door. When he passes me, he gets this triumphant, little smile that only I must see that clearly conveys he got what he wanted—I’m out of Linc’s life and nobody believes me. “Kimberley will keep you informed. Right now, I think it’s best for you to stay out of Linc’s life until we get a few of our questions answered.”

My supposed future father-in-law’s last hateful glance and dismissive words lance right through me. His open hostility for me begins to weigh me down. It feels as if I’ve been shot. In some ways, I think I have. The shock and disbelief of the situation begin to take me over. I stare with an open mouth at the closed door after he leaves and attempt to find air.

A part of me can’t believe this is happening. I lied in the past. To myself. To Linc. To everyone. But this? This is unbelievable. I stand accused and no one believes me when I say I don’t know what happened to the money. I can feel their questioning glances as they each take turns looking my way.

Still, I attempt to keep it together and ready my performance for the ones who remain. I paste on my best smile and grace them all with it while gathering up my things and preparing to leave. Marla hugs me, but then I pull away from her in an effort to keep it together in front of all of them.

“No, it’s okay. I’m all right. I need to make a phone call or two. Find Linc’s money, I guess.” I give her a tight smile. “I promise; I'll call you later.”

I practically run from the conference room and race down the hallway, intent on escape in any way I can find it. There’s a hospital staff restroom marked in familiar blue type. S-T-A-F-F. It’s unlocked. I gratefully slip inside. The walls close in as I slowly sink to the floor.

I am beholden to the darkness and the absolute of silence.

I close my eyes.

I can’t breathe.

Get used to it.

CHAPTER TEN

Blurry -LINC

I hold out the photograph for my dad to see, intent on getting answers because of the evasive way everyone treats me now from the doctors to my dad to my aunt Gina, even Kimberley, and it’s pissing me off. Their combined protective attitude is driving me crazy.
Crazier.
My head pounds, and it appears; I will have to get used to that too.

“Tell me who she is to me. I found this in my wallet today when you went out for some coffee.
This girl.
Who is she? She looks like the nurse who was here when I first woke up, but then in this photograph she looks younger. Do I
know
her? Who is she? What’s her name? Who is she to me?”

My dad looks uneasy and seems to search around the room for reinforcements, but Kimberley left about an hour ago to go check into her hotel at about the same time Aunt Gina and Uncle Chad took off. Other than in an aside with Kimberley without my dad hearing where she told me that Nika was no longer in the picture with me and was definitely off-limits and under no circumstances was it okay for me to contact her. Kimberley actually deleted Nika Vostrikova’s number from my cell phone ‘for my own good,’ as Kimmy put it. Then, she'd rushed off without answering any more of my other questions.

So now, it really is just me and my dad. It’s
always
been me and Dad. For a long enough while anyway, after Mom died along with my older brother Elliott in that car accident. Dad is all I’ve got, which can be both alarming and consoling at the exact same time.
Like now.

“I’m not sure who she is anymore.” Resigned, my dad takes a deep breath then looks at me intently, prepared to give the big speech—the one I’ve heard a hundred times before.

I brace myself for the guilt that tends to swallow me whole when he delivers this particular rendition.

“I just want what’s best for you. You know that, right?”

Here we go.

I nod like I always do.

“She’s a distraction, this girl. From baseball. The thing you’ve put your life’s work into. And there’s the discrepancy of the money—your six million dollar bonus. The money isn’t there. And as I said, I’m not sure who she is anymore.” He gets this grim look that seems to center around the corners of his mouth.

“You think this girl took my money? My signing bonus?”

“Your account registers a little over a hundred grand. The rest is gone. She says she doesn’t know where it is or what you’ve done with it. And you—”

“I can’t remember.” I sigh and try not to move my head because the pain rages and all I want to really do is yell or something. I held out on the drugs they give me for pain because I don’t want to get dependent on pills to solve this particular problem. Headaches. Memory loss. My new nemeses. The painkillers make me drowsy. I’m hoping by not taking them I can solve the memory thing, get back to my life, and pitch a baseball as well as I was able to a few weeks ago. Now, I’m regretting that decision of not taking the meds. I look at my father more closely because it seems like he’s holding something back from me. “Who is she? And does she seem like the type of girl that would lie about something like that?”

He sighs and then shakes his head. “She can’t be trusted. She’s lied to you before.”

“About
what
?”

“Pretty much everything. She’s trouble, Linc. For you. For all of us. She can’t tell us where the money is. Maybe, she had it planned all along.” My dad gets this troubled look as if he can’t quite believe it himself—what he’s essentially saying. “She’s trouble. Always has been. Since day one. Ask Kimberley if you don’t believe me.”

“I believe you.” I cringe feeling uneasy all at once for saying this.
Why? I don’t know.
But as soon as I say this to my dad the air rushes from my lungs. I cough, feeling uneasy all at once. “Can you get me some water? God, I’m so thirsty all the time now.”

“It’s probably the medication they have you on.” My dad reaches for a plastic cup, fills it, and hands it to me. I drink it down and he fills it up again. I drink that one down too.

I pick up the photograph and stare at it some more, wracking my brain trying to remember.
But there is nothing familiar about this girl in the photograph. Nothing.

“Who is she to me?” I finally ask again.

“I already
told
you. She’s nobody. And she’s trouble. Don’t worry about it or
her
. I’ll handle things.”

My father gets up and goes and stares out the window. A clear sign that he is done with this particular conversation.

“Dad,” I say with growing irritation, “does she seem like the type of girl who would lie about things? Or worse, take my money?”

“I’ve lied before, but I don’t lie anymore. To you. Not to anyone anymore, actually.” A woman’s voice reaches us from the now open doorway. We both look up.

And, there she is—the girl from the photograph—the same girl I woke up to seeing, just days ago. The one I can’t quite get out of my mind, although, at times, I would like to because she eerily resonates with the persistent timed arrival of my headaches.

She stands there—framed by the doorway like a portrait—looking defiant. Her green eyes gleam like flawless emeralds. It does not take a rocket scientist to figure out that she is royally pissed. Her entire stature exudes a certain fury.

“You want answers. I’m here to provide them. You accuse me of taking his money without so much as a paper trail to back up your claims. Oh no, Davis Presley, world famous baseball player, doesn’t need facts or the
truth
. No, all you do is wield an unfounded accusation around like a sword among your family and my friends in an attempt to crucify me, Davis.”

She’s said my father’s name with such loathing I begin to sweat.

Nobody challenges my father. Nobody. Not even me.

And yet, I find her incredibly fascinating and brave. I can’t help but watch her as she stalks into the hospital room. Her fury protects her like an invisible shield even though her hands shake as she holds up a sheaf of papers toward my dad.

“He bought a house in Sea Cliff. Five bedrooms. Two masters. Seven Bathrooms. Four-car garage. Grass. Trees. Bay view. All cash. It closes in a few months. Here’s the real estate agent’s number; you can call her and
verify
what I’ve just told you.”

Profound sadness crosses her face and she absently wipes at her eyes and then brushes back her long dark hair and stares hard at my dad.

“I think it was supposed to be a surprise.” She gets this tired little smile and then she looks over at me and it disappears. “Anyway. Problem solved. Call off your dogs,” she says, looking back at my dad who just stares at her with his mouth open.

She turns from him and purposefully walks over to me and hands me the papers. “Here’s what you did with the six million. Sorry,” she says, shyly dipping her head at me. “You paid five million, nine hundred thousand dollars and change and bought a house, Elvis.”

I hold my breath in an attempt to make sense out of what all she’s just said.

She is captivating and I am…captivated by her.
Finally I say, “why did you just call me that?
Elvis
.”

She shrugs. “I always call you that.”

“Why?” I lean in close to her face.
Cloves. Vanilla.
Her scent is amazing. I start to smile.

She bites at her lip and looks uncertain and glances over at my dad with this recognizable hostility.