"You should sit. You don't look good."
"You look..." He seemed suddenly aware of the others in the room and cleared his throat. "How's Ana?"
"Perfect. Please sit."
Nate hobbled to the sofa, and Marisa got him a cup of coffee and a muffin. Rae must've brought a fresh box of pastries from McNeal's. They'd had enough from the diner in Nutfield in the last few days that Marisa looked forward to going to the place for a meal soon.
As if she were staying right here in Nutfield.
Was she staying? There was nothing for her in Mexico. Nothing for her in New York, either.
A phone rang. Sam hurried to her purse and pulled hers out. "Hey." Her skin tinged a little pink before she turned away. She listened while she stepped on the back patio.
Had Sam been blushing? Interesting.
Marisa sat beside Nate and ate her banana nut muffin. Unlike everything else she'd tasted in the last week, this was delicious. Nate picked at his.
"Would you rather trade? I can eat the blueberry."
"Not hungry," he said, leaning against the back of the sofa.
"You're hurt. Why don't you lie down? I'll sit on the floor."
He took her hand. "Please. Stay."
She did, and Nate scooted closer to her, wincing in pain but trying to cover it with a smile.
Sam stepped back inside and closed the door behind her. "That was Garrison."
"He disappeared on us the other day," Nate said. "Did he ever say why?"
"His son needed him. Teenager."
"Ah. I talked to the kid when I called."
Sam met Marisa's eyes. "He says to tell you he's glad you got Ana back."
"We couldn't have done it without him."
"Agreed," Sam said. "He also wanted me to gently remind you that you need to go to New York"
A little ball of dread settled in Marisa's stomach. "Right. I have to identify my sister's body."
"Yeah. Sorry."
"I can do it," Nate said. "I have to finish packing. I'm supposed to be out of my house by Friday."
"I'd love you to be there," Marisa said, "but I need to see her."
Nate nodded like he understood.
Brady came around the bar and looked at Nate. "You're in no position to carry furniture."
"I'm sure I'll be fine tomorrow."
"I'll drive down with you," Brady said.
"You have much packing left to do?" Sam asked.
"We were almost finished." He looked at Marisa. "Your sister was really helpful while we waited for you to email us back." He took her hand. "I'm so sorry."
It was going to take her a little time to believe her sister was really gone. "I know. Me, too."
A heavy silence filled the room.
Rae broke it with, "So, what else did the hot FBI agent have to say?"
Brady gasped. "Hot? The guy was a total dog."
Nate barked, chuckled, and then groaned.
Sam rolled her eyes, but the blush was back. "Whatever." She took her seat in the living room, and Brady and Rae did, too, as if it were perfectly normal. After all the times they'd done it this week, it felt as if it were.
Brady cleared his throat. "Been at the station a while. I have a few things I can tell you." He shifted toward Marisa. "First, they matched fingerprints at the apartment in Chelsea where"—a slight hesitation before—"Ana was held."
Where you sister was murdered. Those were the words he hadn't said.
"They found Rick's and your sister's fingerprints. They found Ana's in the bedroom."
Marisa let the small relief fill her. "That's good, right?"
"Proves he was there. They haven't finished DNA analysis yet, but when they do, they'll prove it's your sister's blood. It's a mountain of evidence."
Marisa let the little bit of good news reach her heart. They couldn't bring Leslie back, but at least they could make sure her killer paid for what he'd done.
Brady continued. "They searched Rick's Audi and found a purse that belonged to your sister. I can't get possession of it, but I thought you'd like to know what they found inside."
"Something important?" she asked.
He took out his phone. "I took some pictures." He navigated through it while he spoke. "I thought you'd like to see." He reached it toward her, and she took it.
On the screen, she saw snapshots of herself, her mother, and Leslie from when they were children. She flipped through them, tears filling her eyes.
"She had a little album she must've carried everywhere with her. It held photos of you and your mother."
"Yes." Marisa's voice cracked. She kept flipping through the pictures on Brady's phone, seeing her own younger face, Leslie's, their mother's. So Leslie hadn't completely wiped them out of her life after all.
"She showed me that when we first met," Nate said. "I'd forgotten."
Brady added, "I thought you'd like to know."
Marisa looked up and nodded. "Thank you, Brady. It doesn't change anything, but, maybe it kind of does. She wasn't who I thought she was, but maybe she loved us, a little. She got pulled into something she couldn't control, and when she did try to control it..."
"She paid with her life," Nate said.
"Another thing I thought you'd like to know," Brady said. "Garrison's old partner, Simon, has been trying to put the new pieces of the puzzle into place. On a hunch, he went to Pamela Gray's house this morning to deliver the news about Richard. He told her what Richard had done, and the woman confessed that she was the one who'd taken the money all those years ago. Seems she wasn't willing to share the information when it was Ana's life at stake, but when Simon suggested that coming clean might help Richard, she told him everything."
"All this time," Nate said, "the money Richard was trying to get his hands on has been in his mother's bank account?"
"Looks like it," Brady said.
Marisa closed her eyes, let the new information skim off her like rocks on a lake. It didn't matter. None of it mattered, because Ana was safe.
"Their twisted family drama has nothing to do with me," Marisa said. "Never did."
"You were just collateral damage," Rae said. "First to Charles, then to Pamela."
"Just the cleaning lady," Marisa said.
Nate's grip became firm. "You were never just anything, Marisa. And you never deserved to be treated that way."
She turned at the vehemence in his voice, saw it in his narrowed eyes, his set mouth.
"It doesn't matter now. They'll all have to deal with what they did." She turned to Brady. "And I'm free, right? Not wanted for anything? Free to come home? Free to stay in America without fear of being hunted or accused?"
Brady nodded. "You're free. It's over."
Chapter 40
NATE WATCHED HIS FRIENDS as they drove away. He could never express to them what their help meant to him. Whatever debt Rae and Brady had felt they owed him had been paid back with loan-shark-sized interest in the last week. And Sam... She'd never owed him a thing.
He could never repay what they'd done for him and Marisa and Ana. But he'd gladly spend the rest of his life trying. He'd known a lot of people in his life, had sources and coworkers and acquaintances in the city, but none could be considered friends compared to the three who'd just left.
Marisa's voice came from behind him. "Why don't you sit back down? I'm afraid you're going to collapse."
He turned and smiled at her. "I'm fine."
"You're wobbly."
He laughed, and the movement sent a shard of pain through his side. He worked to hide it, but Marisa's narrowed eyes told him he'd failed.
"Fine. I'll sit."
She walked with him to the sofa and sat beside him.
"Ana's still asleep?"
She looked at the clock on the stove in the kitchen. "If she sleeps until noon, I'll wake her. She has an appointment with the pediatrician at one."
"Good idea."
"Sam is sweet to let me stay here for a few days. I can't imagine try
ing to go to Leslie's house right now, trying to make ourselves at home there."
"It's your house, technically."
"Doesn't feel like it, though. I'm more comfortable here."
Nate knew exactly how she felt. This place felt like home to him, too. Or maybe that was only because Marisa was here.
He shifted to face her and took her hand. "What's your plan?"
"After the doctor's appointment, I thought we'd—"
"Not today. Long term. What are you going to do?"
She looked down at their joined hands, placed her other hand over his, and looked up. "I'm not sure."
"Are you going back to Mexico?"
She stared beyond him. "I find myself in America with this little girl who's mine in every way except legally. I don't know how the adoption will work if I'm here, but if I go back, then anything could happen. I'm afraid if I go back, there'll be trouble for taking her out of the country. What will it take to clear all that up? And anyway, I don't want to go back."
"Good. I don't like the heat that much."
She blinked twice, and a smile he hadn't seen since Acapulco lit up her face.
"My dad's an attorney," he said. "I'm sure he can help you with the adoption."
"Seriously? That'd be great."
"But what about your stuff. You want me to go back and pack up for you?"
She was shaking her head before he finished the sentence. "Maybe I could have Carlita box up the canvases and send them to me. The rest of the stuff, I'll just let the people there keep. I have all my valuables. I don't need the rest."
"And your job?"
"I'll miss the kids, but I need to do what's right for Ana, for her future. A couple of the older students are nearly fluent in English. Maybe Carlita will hire one of them for my job."
Nate would never have guessed less than two weeks before that his life could turn this abruptly, this perfectly. "Maybe you could stay here, in New Hampshire. Find a place to live. Maybe..."
Her smile widened. "Maybe what?"
"I have an idea."
"What's that?"
"Well, we've spent more than a week together now. We've stayed under the same roofs, traveled together, run together, cried together." Slept together. "In the eight years since we met, we've brought down a crime ring, put guys in prison, and rescued a beautiful little girl. Just this week, we caught a murderer and a kidnapper. The truth is, Marisa, you and I have done a lot together."
Her smile became a lighthearted chuckle, then an all-out laugh. A beautiful sound he could listen to for the rest of his life.
A few days before, he'd thought that tears were the world's only unlimited resource. How very wrong he'd been. Because laughter fueled a lot more action than tears. And love... Love was the greatest resource of all.
"How do we top all of that?" Marisa asked.
"I'm not sure I want to try, honestly. You know what I want?"
Her cheeks turned pink, and he thought maybe she knew exactly what he wanted. "What's that?"
"I want to go on a date with you. Maybe get some Greek food. The best Greek restaurants outside of Greece are in New Hampshire, you know."
"Is that so?" Her laugh said she didn't believe it, but he knew better.
"Lots of Greeks around here. After dinner, I'd like to see a movie with you. Not an action film, though. Maybe one of those long foreign films. We can share popcorn and hold hands and kiss during the boring parts."
"Those foreign films are almost all boring parts."
He winked at her. "I know."
She laughed again. Oh, that her laughter could be the soundtrack of his life. Then he could die a happy man.
"And after the movie?"
"After that normal, boring date, we could have another one and another one and another one. A bunch of normal days, all strung together." He wrapped his arm around her, drew her close. He looked into those dark chocolate eyes, searched for hesitation, but found none. He lowered his lips to hers, tasted tears and joy and forever.
A shift in the air had him pulling away.
He turned and saw Ana standing in the doorway. She padded across the room in her bare feet and blue pajamas and climbed on her mother's lap.
Nate waited for Ana to push him away, but she just smiled up at him. "Hi, Uncle Nate."
"Hey, pretty girl. How'd you sleep?"
"You were kissing Mama."
"I was. Is that okay with you?"
She shrugged and nestled deeper in her mother's lap.
Marisa met his eyes. "I hope you don't mind if we have company on all those dates."
"I love Disney movies," he said.
"And after that?"
"I don't know. I have nothing to offer you. I'm just an out-of-work reporter, but maybe—"
"You're a hero, Nate Boyle." She reached across Ana, traced the line of his hair to his chin, and rested her palm on his cheek. "Wherever you are, that's where I want to be."
An excerpt from Generous Lies
A SINGLE FATHER DETERMINED to save his son. A teenage boy who doesn’t think he needs saving. A damaged woman afraid to risk her heart. And a tiny package that could destroy them all.
Aiden pushed the door open and froze.
The place had been tossed.
Garrison grabbed his son’s arm to pull him back out, but it was too late.
A pistol pressed against Aiden’s temple. A dark hand, an arm. A man came from behind the door and lifted his finger to his lips.
Garrison wanted to shout, to warn Sam. But he didn’t dare.
The man yanked Aiden, who stumbled into the room and nearly tripped over a lamp lying broken on the hardwood. The man gestured for Garrison to follow.
He took in the space. A huge bald man stood beside the television set, a pistol aimed at Garrison.
There were two figures on the couch, their backs to him so he only saw the tops of their heads. By the way they were sitting, still and facing forward, Garrison assumed they, too, were captives.
Captives. Garrison and Aiden had, somehow, in the time it takes to unlock the door and step inside, become captives.
Order Generous Lies today.
Dear Reader
IF YOU HAVEN'T READ it yet, download the first book in this series, Convenient Lies, which tells the story of Rae, Brady, and their adorable little Johnny. It’s free if you join my newsletter list, and I think you'll enjoy it.
Thank you for spending your limited money and time on Twisted Lies. I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, would you leave me a review? And then tell a friend about my books. You'd be doing me a big favor.
This was one of the hardest books I've written, because the plot was more complex than I usually devise. I knew Marisa had been accused of stealing money, and I knew she didn't do it. But I was halfway through the book before I knew who the kidnapper was, nearly to the end before I knew who'd taken the money. Writing this felt like a scavenger hunt in a foggy meadow. I dearly hope the finished product doesn't reflect that.
If you're not interested in getting my emails but you would like to know about my latest releases, follow me on Amazon or BookBub. They’ll be alert you when I have a new book coming out.
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Thank you for reading! Nothing makes this author happier than to share her stories.
In Christ,
Robin Patchen
Also by Robin Patchen
ORDER TODAY
Convenient Lies
Twisted Lies
Generous Lies
Coming winter, 2018: Innocent Lies
Chasing Amanda
Finding Amanda
A Package Deal (part of the Matched Online anthology)
Matched Online
Acknowledgments
THERE ARE SO MANY PEOPLE involved in writing and publishing a book. Without these people in my life, this story and all my stories would be nothing more than
files on my laptop.
Thank you, Quid Pro Quills—Kara Hunt, Jericha Kingston, Candice Sue Patterson, Pegg Thomas, and Jodie Wolfe. Also, thanks to Normandie Fischer, Sharon Srock, and Terri Weldon. Your critiques make me a better writer, and I'm proud to call each of you friend.
Thank you, Ray Rhamey, for your insightful edits.
Thank you, Lacy Williams, for your marketing brilliance.
Thank you to my family, who puts up with me and all my imaginary friends.
And, of course, thank you, my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, for the grace that makes living possible.
Copyright © 2017 by Robin Patchen
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Scripture references are from the King James Version of the Bible.
About the Author
Aside from her family and her Savior, Robin Patchen has two loves—writing and traveling. If she could combine them, she’d spend a lot of time sitting in front of her laptop at sidewalk cafes and ski lodges and beachside burger joints. She’d visit every place in the entire world—twice, if possible—and craft stories and tell people about her Savior. Alas, time is too short and money is too scarce for Patchen to traipse all over the globe, even if her husband and kids wanted to go with her. So she stays in Oklahoma, shares the Good News when she can, and writes to illustrate the unending grace of God through the power and magic of story.
Read more at Robin Patchen’s site.
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