It Began With a Lie: A gripping psychological thriller (Secrets of Redemption Book 1)

by Michele PW (Pariza Wacek)

  Daniel paused, studying both of us, face betraying nothing. “Of course not,” he said smoothly. “I just had a few questions for Becca.”

  “Questions about what? Has Rebecca been caught doing something naughty?” There was that slight emphasis on my full name again. His voice was teasing, playful, but there was definitely an edge to it. I’ve got to find out what Chrissy has been telling him. I felt like I was going to throw up.

  Daniel’s eyes continued to flick back and forth between us. “What makes you say that?” he asked smoothly.

  Stefan squeezed me so tight, I started to gasp. “You’re the one with questions for my wife. Maybe you ought to tell me, Officer,” Stefan answered, just as smoothly.

  Cat and mouse. Lawyer and cop. I felt like I was being pulled between them, like some sort of plaything. The tension was so thick I could barely breathe. I opened my mouth to stop them, to say we should go back to our table, our food was likely there, but nothing came out.

  It was Mia who came to my rescue. “Hey, you guys,” she said. “I’ve got your food right here.” She showed us her tray. “More importantly, you’re blocking the way to the bathroom. Daniel, if you want to join them and finish your conversation, I can bring you a cup of coffee.”

  Daniel paused, eyes locking with Stefan’s. “No thanks, Mia. I’ve got to get back to the station.” His voice was pleasant, even friendly, but the look in his eyes was hard.

  Stefan smiled, icily. His eyes narrowed. “We wouldn’t want to keep you from your job,” he said, his voice equally pleasant, but with an underlying frigidness. “It was great meeting you, Officer.”

  Daniel nodded briefly. “Yes, I’m glad I was able to finally meet Becca’s husband. I trust we’ll be seeing you around more.” It was less of a question and more of a statement.

  “I’m sure you will,” Stefan said. Daniel nodded briefly to both of us and turned to walk out, when Stefan called out to him. “Officer Shafer.”

  Daniel turned. Stefan smiled that cold smile again. “If you have any more questions for my wife, please address them to me. I don’t know if Rebecca told you, but as an attorney, I’ll be happy to answer whatever questions you may have. I’ll have my secretary leave a message for you at the station to make sure you have all my contact information.”

  Daniel paused and just stared at him. Then, he smiled. A wolfish, predatory smile that said, “So, this is how you want to play it? Game on.” Without another word, he turned and exited the diner.

  Stefan waited until he was gone before he let go of me. The air rushed back into my lungs as I took a welcome deep breath. The tension around him dissolved.

  “Stefan,” I hissed, conscious of the eyes of all the diners on us, feeling mortified by the whole exchange. “What the hell was that all about?”

  He looked at me, his gaze faintly narrowing. “I know he’s an old friend, but Chrissy made it seem like he was harassing you. I wanted to see what was happening for myself, and if he was harassing you, put a stop to it. Come on, let’s get back to our table and eat. I’m starving.”

  I wanted to protest—no, what just happened wasn’t about protecting me from harassment. There was something else going on, something deeper. Was it jealously? Could it be as simple as that? But Stefan was already heading back to our table. I watched him walk away, as a wave of dizziness engulfed me.

  “Miss? Are you okay?” One of the diners, an overweight balding man with black-rimmed glasses asked me, looking concerned. He slid his chair back and started to get up.

  I waved him off. “I’m fine, thank you,” I managed, even though I was far from it. My head was pounding, and I still felt lightheaded and nauseous. At the same time, I didn’t want to add any more fuel to the gossip fire in the diner. What was it about this town that always seemed to make me the center of a big, fat drama? First, my aunt as the eccentric old witch in the haunted house, and now, this. I took a deep breath and managed to totter my way back to the table where our food waited. Stefan and Chrissy had already started to eat. I sat down and drank some more water.

  Stefan studied me. “Are you alright? You’re looking a little pale.”

  I picked up a piece of toast and nibbled it. “I’m fine.” All I wanted was to go home and lay down.

  Stefan continued to watch me. “Are you sure? You’re not eating much.”

  “I’ll be fine. It’s just a headache. I just need to lie down a bit when we get home.”

  Chrissy smirked, but kept her mouth shut. Thank God.

  Stefan frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that. Make sure you eat. You know your headaches always get worse when you don’t.”

  I nodded and took a bite of eggs, chewing very slowly and willing my stomach to stop rolling around so I could swallow.

  Stefan picked up a piece of bacon. “Rebecca, why is everyone calling you Becca?”

  “Because that’s what her friends are allowed to call her,” Chrissy answered, scowling at her food.

  I looked at her in surprise. She was still upset by that? “That’s not true,” I said. “Well, not entirely true. It’s what everyone here used to call me, when I came here. But, that was a long time ago. I’ve been Rebecca for years. It’ll take some time, but they’ll get used to it.”

  Chrissy viscously stabbed her fork into her hash browns. “Whatever,” she muttered.

  “Becca is a name for a child,” Stefan remarked, forking up some eggs. “The sooner they start calling you Rebecca, the better.”

  I stared at him in disbelief. Becca is a name for a child? While I agreed with Stefan that I preferred Rebecca now, it wasn’t because Becca was a childish name. It was because every time I heard it, I felt that familiar knife twist in my stomach.

  Becca was a different girl. She was full of hopes and dreams, and didn’t give a damn what her family—or anyone else—thought. She was going to live her life her way.

  But, Becca was dead. She died of alcohol poisoning when she was sixteen. And, maybe it was for the best that Becca DID die—otherwise, I never would have met and married Stefan. Sure, we still had some work to do (okay, a lot of work) to fix our marriage, but it would happen. Stefan would eventually turn the law firm around, we’d sell the house, and before we knew it, we’d be back in New York, our marriage and lives back on track. Maybe even stronger than ever, having overcome this dip.

  Everything would be fine. It was just a matter of time.

  Chapter 13

  After resting for a while (Stefan had insisted I go right to bed as soon as we got home, assuring me he and Chrissy would be fine), I got up and took a quick shower, spending a little extra time on my hair and makeup. I wanted tonight to be special.

  I was going to make dinner. Not that I was much of a cook, but since we had to lay off our cook/housekeeper in New York, I had learned a few dishes, beef Stroganoff being one of them. I had gotten all the ingredients at the grocery store, including gluten-free pasta and gluten-free breadsticks, intending to make it for Chrissy and me this weekend, for what I hoped would be the start of a “girl’s night in” and some bonding. Now, I’d make it for all three of us.

  I put on an emerald green tunic dress that I knew Stefan liked because it brought out the green in my eyes and the red in my hair. Plus, it was short and showed off my legs.

  As I headed downstairs, I could hear the low murmur of voices, but at first, I couldn’t find them. They weren’t in the living room or the kitchen. Finally, I found them in the family room, sitting on the couch, speaking quietly. Stefan had his laptop open and propped up on a tray table. Chrissy, wearing faded jean short shorts (very short shorts) and a cutoff cream tee shirt with the words “Raw Power” on it, had her bare legs in Stefan’s lap.

  I stopped short in the doorway, staring at them.

  Something didn’t feel right. I felt like I was interrupting an … intimate moment.

  I cleared my
throat. They both looked up and noticed me. “Oh, there you are. Feeling any better? You look better,” Stefan said, looking at me with distinct male appreciation. I could feel myself respond to that gaze—it’d been a long time since Stefan had looked at me like that.

  Chrissy gave me a lazy smile, looking like a very-pleased-with-herself cat. She didn’t move her legs. She twined one of her fingers in her dark hair.

  I took a step into the room. “Yes, I am. In fact, I thought I’d make dinner for all of us.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Stefan said. “We could go out, or I could make something, maybe with Chrissy’s help.” He smiled at his daughter, who practically glowed as she smiled back.

  There was something about that smile. It was like a secret between them. I didn’t like it. I fought the urge to push Chrissy’s legs off his lap. I took a step closer to them.

  “No, I’d like to make it. You’ve done enough. I’d like to do something special tonight. For both of you.”

  Stefan gave me a slow, seductive smile. “That would be nice. Thank you. Let me at least help get you started.” Stefan moved the tray table out of his way and Chrissy finally, reluctantly, moved her legs. He stood up and crossed the room to me, engulfing me in a quick kiss and a hug. “You smell great,” he whispered in my ear. “You look great, too. We still have some … unfinished business from this morning, don’t we?”

  I hugged him back. “Yes, we do.” He smelled great, too—I breathed in the clean, sharp scent of his expensive aftershave.

  “Oh my God, get a room, you two,” Chrissy snapped from the couch.

  “Careful what you ask for,” Stefan said to his daughter while nuzzling my neck. “We may just do that.”

  “Disgusting,” Chrissy muttered.

  I laughed, a mixture of relief and desire flowing through me. Everything was fine. I have no idea what my issue was with what I saw, or thought I saw, but I had to get my head on straight. I never saw anything even remotely inappropriate between he and Chrissy in New York. Plus, I knew Chrissy missed her father. She probably just wanted to be close to him while she had the chance, which is why she had her legs in his lap.

  I glanced over at Chrissy and saw her staring at me, her face full of anger, her eyes like daggers.

  If looks could kill …

  Stefan let go of me. “Here, let me help get you started. I can pour us some wine. It’s definitely five o’clock somewhere.” He took my arm to lead me into the kitchen. I let him, feeling a little shaken by how Chrissy was glaring at me.

  Almost like a jealous lover.

  No! It couldn’t be that. I was the hated stepmother—competition for her father’s attention. That’s all.

  Stefan went to open the bottle, his manner entirely relaxed as he chatted with me. I pulled the ingredients out of the fridge, trying to listen to him as my head whirled. What did I see? Nothing, really. Chrissy wearing inappropriate attire that morning while they were in the kitchen together, Chrissy still wearing inappropriate attire (did she have that on when we went to breakfast? Did she change? I couldn’t remember), her legs in Stefan’s lap, glaring at me when Stefan hugged me.

  But Stefan wasn’t touching her back. He wasn’t touching her when I walked in the kitchen that morning. And he wasn’t touching her just now. He had his computer on a tray table and both hands on his keyboard.

  I had to get it together.

  “I’m going to wrap up what I was working on, so we can spend the whole evening together, uninterrupted,” Stefan said, caressing my back and kissing my neck.

  “Hmmm … be careful you don’t start something you can’t finish.”

  “Oh, I’ll definitely be finishing this,” he said as he kissed me one last time before letting me go. “I better get out of here before I can’t.”

  I laughed.

  After he walked out of the kitchen, I took a sip of wine and began washing and chopping. I was sautéing beef and slicing vegetables for a salad when I heard the dim chirps of my cell phone buried in the depths of my purse. Oh geez, it was probably Mia, wanting all the details of what happened between Daniel and Stefan. I didn’t want to talk to her right then, but for all I knew, she had been trying to reach me all day. Maybe it would be best to talk to her briefly, and then I could turn the phone off for the night.

  I dug my phone out of my purse and my heart sank. It was CB. As anxious as I was to talk to him to smooth things over after our last conversation (I had sent him a couple of texts, but he had been short in his responses), it just wasn’t the time. Stefan ... tolerated CB. Barely. Things had gotten even more strained between the two of them after CB had made his feelings known about how big of a mistake he thought this move was.

  I considered not answering, but that would mean more explanations when we next talked, which would likely end in another fight. Maybe just a fast conversation while I cooked. Stefan was in the other room working anyway.

  “Cos! Sorry I didn’t call you back sooner. It’s been a week, I tell you.” He sighed dramatically. “I have so much to share. Marguerite’s last nip and tuck did NOT go well, she looks a fright. Now she’s talking lawsuits.” Marguerite was his mother, my aunt, but he always called her by her first name. “But, before I get into all of that, I want to hear about you. What’s the latest and greatest in Hicksville? Have you seen Daniel again?”

  I winced, tucking the phone between my shoulder and neck as I kept chopping. “Actually, this isn’t a great time. I’m in the middle of cooking. Can I call you back tomorrow?”

  CB was silent for a moment. “Is Stefan finally there?”

  I started rattling in the cupboard for a large pan. “Yes.”

  “Permanently?”

  I banged the pan on the stove and turned up the burner. “Well, no. Not yet. Look, let me call you back.”

  CB muttered something.

  “Don’t start,” I said. “I really do want to talk to you. I’ll call you back.”

  “Fine. Call me back.” The line went dead.

  I put the phone down and picked up my wine, taking a long drink to center myself before getting back to cooking.

  “Who was that?”

  I jumped, spilling my wine on my dress. “Jesus, Stefan, you scared me. Why did you sneak up on me like that?” I grabbed a washcloth and soaked it in cold water to dab at my dress. Thank God it was white wine.

  Stefan came closer, his manner still relaxed and friendly … but there was a tension about him that made it seem forced. His eyes were watching me carefully.

  I dabbed furiously at my dress. “No one important.”

  He cocked his head. “Then why did you say you’d call him back?”

  I opened my mouth to ask why he was assuming it was a “him,” but gave up before uttering a word. Why fight it? He was going to drag it out of me sooner or later. And if I told him now, maybe it wouldn’t lead to a fight and I would still be able to salvage the nice, romantic night I had planned.

  I sucked in my breath. “I just …” I threw the washcloth in the sink and sighed. “It was CB.”

  I didn’t look at him, but I could feel the tension vibrate. “You know how I feel about him.”

  “Yes, but he is my cousin.”

  “Is he planning to come out here?”

  I looked at him in shock. “CB? Why would he come out here? He hates it here.”

  “You’re here. Why wouldn’t he visit?”

  I shook my head. “CB had his fill of this place when we were kids. He’s not going to come here by choice.”

  Stefan studied me for a long moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. Then, he breathed out in a long sigh and smiled—a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I know he’s your cousin, but you know how I feel about him. He’s too … attached to you. I don’t think he’s a good influence on you or Chrissy. He should stay in New York.”

>   A part of me wanted to defend CB, and my relationship with him. It wasn’t the first time Stefan accused CB of being overly interested in my life. But I forced it down. Did I really want to start a fight about my cousin? Or would I prefer to fan some of the closeness we had just rekindled into a nice, hot flame? “Of course. Want to top off my wine?”

  Stefan leaned over to kiss me on the head as he took my glass.

  I accepted the wine and gave him my most seductive smile. There would be plenty of time to discuss CB once our relationship was on stronger footing.

  He smiled again, more genuinely. “It smells wonderful. I can’t wait to dig in,” he said. His eyes heated up. “I’m definitely very hungry.”

  I dropped my gaze demurely. “It won’t be too much longer.”

  “Is that a promise?”

  I fluttered my eyelashes. “Absolutely.”

  From the family room, I was sure I heard the sound of retching.

  Stefan sighed and retreated to the living room while I went back to cooking.

  Chapter 14

  Lying in bed later that night, with Stefan’s arm flung over me, I drowsily watched the curtains flutter against the open window and listened to Stefan’s heavy breathing beside me. The moon shone through the window, bleaching the color out of everything it touched.

  It had actually ended up being a relaxing, fun evening. My headache was pretty much gone, although I was still stuffed up. The beef Stroganoff was perfect—both Stefan and Chrissy had second helpings. Stefan was charming and engaging, talking to both of us and sharing funny stories. Even Chrissy was well-behaved, treating me like I was a real person, instead of someone she was forced to deal with.

  After dinner, we dug through my aunt’s impressive collection of games, and finally decided on Scrabble. None of us had played in years. Actually, I wasn’t sure if Chrissy had ever played it, so we ended up laughing a lot as we got the hang of playing.