Your Eyes Don't Lie (11 page)

“Yeah. She’s one of those people who live to help others. She’s great.”

“Okay, I have the address.” He set his phone into a holder on the dash. “This will tell me the fastest way to get there. Not that I don’t trust you for directions, but you do look a little distracted.”

She stifled another yawn. “Thanks.”

“Uh, you might want this.” Harrison leaned toward her, taking a comb from the glove compartment. He grinned. “I sort of like you with bed head, but I suspect your friends might, well, read something into it.”

“They’d just think we had the top down.” But she took the comb and began at the ends of her hair. She noticed he kept glancing at her, as if fascinated with her movements. That made two of them. She couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off him, either. Even so, she shouldn’t have let him come. Or let him take her—whatever. She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling as if they were full of sandpaper.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” She bit the left side of her lower lip.

“Really?”

She opened her eyes to find him looking at her rather than the road. “It’s just . . . I don’t know how Nate is going to take you appearing there with me. He’ll either hate you or call the preacher.”

Harrison laughed. “We’ll tell him we’re friends.”

“I thought we covered
friends
at my apartment.”

He looked at her and back to the road, his mouth twitching with what she suspected was amusement. “Well, we have to start somewhere. Let’s fill each other in on our lives.”

That’s why she didn’t do friends well, because it always came down to the past. But she could at least tell him the surface stuff that seemed to satisfy most people. Of course wasn’t that what she’d done last night? Anyway, if it got too bad, she’d insist that he put the convertible top down so the wind would make easy conversation impossible.

He took her silence for agreement. “How long have you had custody of Nate?”

“Four years.”

“How old was he?”

“Two.”

“And he’s six now?”

She nodded.

“That would have made you nineteen.”

“Thereabouts.”

He guided the car to the freeway. “Why do I feel a little like we’re playing twenty questions? Why don’t you tell me what happened? I mean, if you want. That’s a lot of years between siblings.”

“How far do you want me to go back?”

He grinned. “All the way.”

“Oh, you’re one of those,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“You bet.”

“Well, you see, about six thousand years ago there was a garden.”

He laughed. “Not that far back. Begin with when you were born.”

Ugh. So much for diversion.
“Okay.” She took a breath. “My mother died when I was five and my father remarried when I was twelve. Her name was Fern. Good name for someone who floated around with every new breath of wind that passed by.” She gave a flat, mirthless laugh. “I didn’t get along with Fern, so after a few days I stayed with friends mostly. That was in Tucson.”

He glanced over at her again and she saw a question in his eyes, but she was glad he didn’t ask. No matter how he made her feel, she wasn’t going to tell him about sleeping in the park or crashing on friends’ couches, or spending the occasional night locked in the high school.

“Nate was born when I was seventeen, and I went home for six months to help Fern with the baby. But it didn’t work, so I moved out. I was still in high school, but I’d go over every day because of Nate. That summer after graduation, my dad got a job in Peoria. Seemed things were looking up for them. I moved at the same time they did so I could keep an eye on Nate. Fern had a bit of a drug problem—mostly prescription—and she slept much of the day. That didn’t work well for Nate after the first few months, so that’s where I came in. I started college, but taking care of a baby and attending classes didn’t work, at least not then.” She made a face. “I flunked out.”

“Not surprisingly. It’s a wonder you went at all. How’d you support yourself?”

“Restaurants, working at the theater.”
Doing jobs for Lenny.
“I got by.”

“What happened then?”

“My dad had a heart attack one day at work, and Fern found a guy to sell her more drugs. We lost them both within a year.”

“I’m sorry.”

She stared at his profile. “I’m not.”

He looked stunned, but they were treading on memories she didn’t want to resurrect. As much as something inside her wanted him to understand why she didn’t mourn them, she’d already said too much.

“My dad was a drunk and Fern preferred drugs over Nate,” she added. “It’s a long story. I don’t really want to go into details.”

“Okay,” he said. “I can wait until you’re ready.”

“And what if I never am?”

“There’s plenty of time. I’m not going anywhere.”

Why did his echoing almost the exact words she’d said to him at the apartment make her feel good when she’d already learned that intentions didn’t mean anything? “What about you?” she said. “Tell me about your life now.”

He laughed. “I think I told you everything last night.” The smile slid from his face. “Well, there is one thing, but my family never talks about it, so when you meet my mother, you can’t mention it.”

When I meet his mother.
An undefined pain shot through Makay’s chest. He thought she’d be meeting his mother. “Okay. I’m good at secrets.” An understatement if there ever was one.

This time he kept his eyes on the road. “I’m adopted. At least by the man I call my father. I was four when he married my mother.” Something in his tone had changed.

“I get the feeling you don’t much like your father.”

He shrugged. “I’ll admit that it hasn’t been easy. He’s a hard man. If I had one word for him, it’d be forbidding.” He paused and added, “Or maybe unforgiving. But he gave me his name, and I will always be grateful for the way he’s taken care of my mother and for the education he gave me.”

“In Snotsdale?”

He laughed and the tension in his body eased. “Yes. And I’m a little embarrassed to say that when you see their house in Scottsdale, you are definitely going to see how the area got its nickname.”

Silence fell between them, but it was a comfortable silence. Finally she asked. “Did you ever meet your birth father?”

He let out a sigh. “I never met him. I don’t even know who he is, and I found out recently that he’s been dead a long time.” His shoulders slumped a little, telegraphing his distress.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s probably for the best.”

She waited two breaths to say, “I was adopted, too.”

“You mean by your mother who died when you were five?”

“Yes. And my father. He wasn’t a drunk when she was alive.” Now Makay felt even more vulnerable, admitting that she’d lost not one but two sets of parents. She felt twice abandoned, a woman who couldn’t hang onto anyone in her life except a six-year-old who didn’t know any better.

“Did you ever meet your birth parents?”

She shook her head. “I did some looking, but I never found either of them.”

“Well, I know how that goes. Do you have other relatives around?”

“No. We have other people, though.” If you counted those in her apartment building and Tessa and Lily, and now Brette and Harrison. Could she count her favorite teller at Winco? Man, she was pathetic.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I bet with all that’s happened, you wonder what it would have been like if you hadn’t been adopted.”

“I used to.” She shook her head, thinking of all the jobs she’d done for Lenny and what people were willing to do to protect their dirty little secrets. “But who knows, maybe we’re the lucky ones. I mean your birth father could have been someone like . . . well, far worse than the father you ended up with. He could have been a serial killer or a man like my new neighbor who yells all day at his wife, can’t keep a job, and lets his three dogs pee on the carpet in the hallway.”

“Amen to that.” The gloom that surrounded him lifted and he cast her another grin. “I wasn’t going to mention the smell in your building, but now that you brought it up, the hallway outside your apartment actually isn’t as bad as the lobby.”

She groaned. “I shampoo the carpet in the hallway every other weekend and in between I sprinkle or spray odor killers. It’s the only thing I can do to make the place livable.”

“I bet your neighbors appreciate it.”

“I’m sure they do.”

The miles passed as they drifted once again into a companionable silence. Makay began to feel sleepy. If she stayed still too long, she’d probably drift off to sleep. Maybe misplacing her key had been a good thing, so that he’d have to drive her—better than her steering off the road.

With her eyes half shut, she studied him as he drove, becoming aware that his taupe dress pants and pinstriped shirt were far dressier than her jeans and sweatshirt. Today he was also cleanly shaven, unlike last night, which meant he’d spent time getting ready before coming to search her out, obviously wanting to make a good impression. He was doing a good job of it, if her reaction to him told anything. By comparison, she was a bit of a mess. At least she had comfort in knowing he’d seen her at her best last night.

Her best? Or the face she’d chosen to show him? What would he say if she told him she worked for a blackmailer?

Not for long.
She would somehow get enough information on Lenny to bury him as deeply as he had buried her. First, she’d make him tell her more details about their current target because something told her this time was different.

Chapter Nine

H
arrison pulled up at Lily’s House, wishing he didn’t have to wake Makay. She seemed so peaceful—so trustful—lying back with her eyes shut, her hair splayed over the seat, and her lips slightly parted. Even as he considered his options, her eyes opened.

She sat up quickly, stretching one arm out in front of her. “Sorry, must have drifted off for a moment.”

“A moment? You’ve been snoring something awful for the past fifteen minutes.”

She scowled. “I have not . . . have I?”

“No.” He lifted a hand to her cheek. “I’m teasing.” A flush tinted her skin, and he had to resist the urge to kiss her.

“Come on,” she said, opening her door.

He followed her, pausing briefly to glance up at the sign over the gate. “Tell me about this place.”

“Well,” she said as they went up the walk, “ever since Lily and her husband Mario were married, they’ve been taking in abused girls or those who live on the street. When they couldn’t fit any more in their apartment, they bought this house. That was about four years ago.” She hesitated before rushing on. “I lived here with Nate when I was trying to settle custody. The house has come a long way since then. We did a lot of work in the beginning to make it livable. At one point Lily almost lost the house, but she and Tessa each have a trust fund that they get at twenty-five if they’re married, and Tessa paid for the house when she married Gage. That was three years ago.”

“What about Lily’s trust fund? Sounds more like it’s Tessa’s house.”

“Oh, Lily’s only twenty-three. She’ll pay Tessa once she gets her money, but it’s always been her house. Mario helps, but Lily runs the place. She’s . . . well, the heart and soul of it, I guess you might say. Mario’s an accountant and he works from home, so he’s also Lily’s handyman. Seeing him is kind of what inspired my major because I want to be around as much as possible for Nate. Anyway, Tessa is a therapist working on a doctorate in psychology. She has an office, but she works with the girls in the afternoon. Guess you might say that Lily’s one of those bright stars people circle around. They’re attracted by her dream. I never thought I could mud drywall and paint and put in trim, but you should have seen me under Lily’s influence.”

“Under her influence, or the desire to keep your brother?”

She laughed. “Both. Better be careful or you’ll be designing some electronic thing for her.”

The door was opened by none other than Brette. She wore a close-fitting T-shirt, and her dark hair lay in a thick braid over her shoulder. Bare toes peeked from the bottom of her gray sweat pants. “Hey, you two,” Brette said, her grin wide and welcoming. “They’re watching cartoons here with me, while Lily supervises breakfast. It’s a video, though. All the good cartoons were over before we got up.”

“Thanks.” Makay hurried inside and Harrison followed.

“Makay!” The slight tow-headed boy Harrison had seen before at Albertsons jumped up from a couch where he’d been sitting between a smaller, more rounded child and a scrawny teenager with so much eye shadow she looked like she was practicing for Halloween. “I missed you!”

“Did you really?” Makay swept him up into her arms, her face different yet again.

This is the real Makayla,
Harrison decided. While Nate had her skin coloring and similar brown eyes, they looked nothing alike, or maybe that was just because he knew she was adopted and wasn’t even the child’s half sibling. Not that it mattered. He recognized that look. He’d seen it on his own mother’s face and other mothers he’d known. Nate was the most important thing in her life. Was Harrison okay with that? Was there room in her life for another person?

A choice loomed before him, one he’d have to make very soon to spare them both heartache. He’d thought a child wouldn’t matter to their relationship, especially a sibling, but the bond between these two went far past that of ordinary siblings. Perhaps it had something to do with the things she hadn’t told him about her life, the shadows that lurked in her dark eyes. Or perhaps it was simply that she’d been responsible for Nate his entire life.

Whatever it was, he knew there was much in her life that she didn’t trust him enough to share.

But he wanted her to. Realization crawled over Harrison. He wanted it more than he’d ever wanted anything, except maybe to find his father. He wanted her and this huge, all-encompassing feeling inside to be real. He wanted to love Nate as much as Makay did, not only so she would have more room for him, but because he wanted to love what she loved.

That was a beginning of something important, wasn’t it?

“I want you to meet a friend,” Makay said as she let Nate slide down to the carpet.