The Perfect Lie

by Cheryl Bradshaw

  “I didn’t do anything,” she said. “You can’t prove anything.”

  “But you did, Chelsea. You were angry. Not just because she lied, and not just because she wasn’t the kind of mother she should have been, but because if your secret got out, not only would the world see you differently, the people around you would see you differently. Bradley. Bradley’s parents.”

  I reached across the table, grabbed her hand. “My story might not be one-hundred-percent accurate, but I’ll bet it’s close. Whatever happens now, I want you to know one thing. Even after what you’ve done, you’re not your mother, and you’re not Elias Pratt. One of the best ways you can prove that to yourself and to everyone else is to tell the truth.”

  I slid the chair back, stood, and walked to the door.

  “Hey.”

  I turned back. “Yeah?”

  “Interesting story. Too bad it’s not true.”

  I shrugged. “What do I know? I’m just a writer.”

  CHAPTER 56

  One Week Later

  I fidgeted with my skirt, fighting my inner urge to grab it, pull it down a couple more inches or find a pair of scissors and cut it off. I despised skirts almost as much as I despised dresses and all manner of dressy things. What fun was an outfit if it didn’t offer some breathing room, or the kind of fabric that could be washed in a regular old washing machine when it got dirty?

  To get my mind off my choice of attire for the day, I thought of Chelsea. Murphy had called me a few days before to say she’d done the right thing, and after three grueling days of interrogations, she’d confessed to her crimes, admitting to poisoning her mother and attempting to poison Barbara Berry. One thing she didn’t admit was Porter’s part in it. No matter. He’d done a stupendous job of incriminating himself the night he was arrested.

  Murphy still found it hard to believe that both flash drives were empty. Truth was, they weren’t. I suspected the one Barbara planned on exchanging for a wad of cash was just a prop. The one I’d taken from Alex’s house, I wiped clean, deciding Roland was right when he said some things in life didn’t need to be revealed. Whether or not the manuscript itself was still out there somewhere, only time would tell.

  Finch had glanced at me several times over the past two minutes, probably wondering what had me so self-absorbed that I’d abruptly stopped the conversation we’d been having.

  He parked the car, walked over to me, and offered me his arm. I’d never been the damsel in distress type, but I was out of my element in a skirt and heels so I took it anyway.

  “You look beautiful,” he said. “Don’t be nervous.”

  Before I could utter something stupidly sarcastic, he pulled open the chapel door. My eyes darted around, hoping for an empty row in the back so I could slip in unnoticed. My wishful thinking soon ended when my mother’s eyes locked on mine.

  The second she saw me, she shot out of her seat in the second row and speed-walked in my direction. She threw her arms around me and squealed, causing all those in attendance to look at us. “I knew you’d come, Joslyn! I just knew it!”

  “Hi, Mom.”

  She planted a kiss on my cheek and pointed in the direction she’d just come from. “I saved you a seat.”

  “It doesn’t look like there’s enough room for both of us, so we’re just going to sit in the back.”

  “Nonsense! You never said Finchie was coming with you, but that’s all right. We can all squish in right next to your brother and sister.”

  My sister, whose personality was a mirror image to my mother, smiled and waved, furthering the interest of all the gawkers in the room. My brother smirked like he was all too happy to let me endure a little fresh hell for a change. In my mind, I rewound myself back to when I’d stepped on the plane bound for Salt Lake City, back to the moment I’d made the decision to make the trip in the first place.

  Sensing my discomfort, Finch tried to alleviate the tight seating situation by saying, “It’s just fine, ma’am. I’ll wait back here until it’s over.”

  “I’ll sit back here too,” I said.

  “You won’t either.” She tugged my shirt sleeve, leading the way to the second row.

  My brother cupped a hand over his mouth, attempting to control his laughter. Finch, thinking he was free to do as he pleased, Finch stepped into an aisle in the back row only to be scolded by my mother when she turned around. Five squished minutes later, the wedding ceremony between my cousin and my ex’s brother began. Twenty minutes after that, it was over, and I was successfully outside and free, or so I thought.

  The sound of Lucas’s boots pounding the asphalt surface as he chased after me derailed my plans for a quick getaway. “Joss, wait up. Just a second. Stop. Will you stop, please?”

  My head said to keep going, but my heart disagreed, and just this once I listened.

  I stopped. Finch stopped too, his feet spread apart, arms folded in front of his chest.

  “Why are you leaving so soon?” Lucas asked. “You just got here.”

  “I came for the wedding. It’s over.”

  “Stay a while. At least for the reception tonight.”

  “It’s better if I go.”

  “Who’s it better for? You?”

  “Why do you want me to stay, Lucas?” I asked.

  “I haven’t seen you in ages. I thought we could catch up.”

  “Why? Because we have history? Because we were married? Because we had a daughter together? You don’t know me anymore, Lucas. You knew me. That woman, the one you married, she no longer exists. Nothing you can say or do now can ever bring her back.”

  “Joss, come on. Hear me out.”

  Knowing Finch was close to stepping in, I flattened a hand, held it out in his direction. “No. I was done hearing anything you had to say the day Elena died.”

  “Why? Because you’d rather pretend like she hadn’t existed? Is it easier for you, because it sure as hell isn’t as easy for me.”

  “Don’t talk about Elena. You don’t get to talk about her. Not to me.”

  “Maybe we need to talk about her. Maybe it’s time.”

  “I choose to live my life for today, not yesterday,” I said. “If yesterday is where you want to live, that’s your choice.”

  Lucas glanced at Finch. “Look, man. Can you give us a minute here?”

  Finch looked at me. I smiled and nodded, and he backed away. Not far, but far enough.

  Voice lowered, Lucas leaned toward me. “I know you’ll never be able to forgive me for what happened, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I can’t take it back. If I could, I would. I should have been a better husband to you. I should have shown you the respect you deserved. If I had, everything would be different.”

  His eyes filled with tears. Except for the night Elena died, he’d never been emotional in front of me before.

  “I still love you, Joss. I’ll always love you.”

  His heartfelt words appealed to the younger version of me, and just for a moment, I saw the boy I fell in love with in high school. I reached out, squeezed his hand. “We had some great memories, Lucas, and a beautiful daughter together. But, you have to let her go now, and let me go. Find someone who makes you happy.”

  He stood for a moment, then nodded. “It was good seeing you.”

  I smiled. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

  CHAPTER 57

  One hour later

  I knelt in front of a headstone, placing the colorful flowers against it. I brushed a hand across an oval portrait of a young, sweet-faced girl. My sweet girl. Part of me wanted to claw my fingers into the rich earth, crawl inside, and wrap my arms around her, joining her in eternal rest. I would give anything to run my hands through her silken hair one last time, hear a single syllable from her melodic voice, hold her in my arms again.

  I wiped a tear from my eyelid, waved Finch over. “I want to tell you something.”

  “Joss, you don’t have to—”

  “I was driving, coming bac
k a day early from a trip to my aunt’s house in St. George, Utah. Elena was in the back in her car seat. She was three years old. We had the music going. We were singing and laughing. My cell phone rang. I didn’t answer it, didn’t even look to see who was calling. I never answered my phone while I was driving. A minute later, it rang again. Then again two minutes after that. The person called four times in six minutes. I thought it was an emergency, so the next time, I answered it.”

  “Who was calling?” Finch asked.

  “My cousin Courtney.”

  “The one who got married today?”

  I nodded.

  “She was upset,” I said. “Yelling into the phone. I couldn’t understand her.”

  “What was she upset about?”

  “She kept saying, ‘I have to tell you something. Don’t be mad at me, okay? Promise you won’t be upset with me when I tell you.’ I told her I was driving, asked if it could wait until I got home. We were so close. Ten more minutes and I’d be there.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She’d driven by my house earlier that day, saw my friend’s car there. She knew I was out of town and found it odd my friend would stop by when I wasn’t at home. Two hours later, my cousin drove by again. The car was still there. Courtney parked up the street, crept up to the window in front of the house, peeked inside. Lucas was naked on the sofa with my best friend, both of them all tangled up in each other.”

  Finch bent down, placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’ve been through it myself. I’m sorry.”

  “When Courtney told me what she saw, I was furious. The more she talked, the madder I became. I ended the call with her and called him.”

  “Did he admit it to you?”

  “He did. Honestly, he had no choice. When my cousin saw them together, she stormed into the house. He begged her not to tell me, and I think he hadn’t called because he was waiting around to see if she’d do it.”

  “What did he say when you confronted him?”

  “He asked how I felt about it, how I was doing. I kept thinking about our marriage, about how everything was fine one minute and the next it was over. I wasn’t speeding, but it was dark outside, and my eyes were so filled with tears I couldn’t see the road. The lines all blended together. In the midst of all that, Lucas was still yacking away.”

  “I can’t imagine how difficult that was for you.”

  We locked eyes, and I knew he knew what I was about to say was far more difficult than anything I’d already said. “I wanted to pull off the road, but I couldn’t. There were miles and miles of orange cones on the side of the road because of the construction, and the other lane was blocked off. One of the cones blew onto the highway. By the time I swerved, it was too late. The side of my car smacked into it. I jerked the steering wheel, and my car slipped off the freeway into the ditch. I can still hear the sound of Elena screaming.”

  Finch took my hand in his.

  “My head cracked against the steering wheel before the airbag deployed, and I blacked out,” I said. “When I came to, lights flashed all around me. I was inside an ambulance. I lifted my head, tried to see Elena. I asked one of the medics to bring me to her. As long as I live, I’ll never forget the look on the medic’s face when the officer walked over and told me Elena was dead.”

  Silence passed between us for a moment, then Finch spoke. “I have witnessed death in all its forms. Even when it had to be done or couldn’t be avoided, I never found peace in it. You choose how you let it change you. What happened to your daughter was an accident. You can grieve, and you can hold on to all the good times, but you can’t stop living.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “Some days I feel numb, like adrenaline pumping through my veins is the only thing that’s keeping me alive. Other days, I feel fine.”

  “And today?”

  “Today I feel blessed to have you in my life. I know I haven’t said it, Finch, but it means a lot to me that I can talk to you.”

  He stretched out his hand, helping me get back on my feet. “You can always talk to me. I will always be here for you.”

  “I know you will.”

  “Ready to go say goodbye to your parents and head out?”

  Two hours ago, I would have jumped at the offer. Now I realized there was only one way to face things. “Yeah, let’s stop there, and after, let’s stop at the church again. There’s a reception I’d like to go to.”

  THE END

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  About Cheryl Bradshaw

  Cheryl Bradshaw is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author. She currently has two series: Sloane Monroe mystery/thriller series and the Addison Lockhart paranormal suspense series. Stranger in Town (Sloane Monroe series #4) was a 2013 Shamus Award finalist for Best PI Novel of the Year, and I Have a Secret (Sloane Monroe series #3) was a 2013 eFestival of Words winner for best thriller novel. To learn more:

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  Books by Cheryl Bradshaw

  Sloane Monroe Series

  Black Diamond Death

  Murder in Mind

  I Have a Secret

  Stranger in Town

  Bed of Bones

  Flirting With Danger (Novella)

  Hush Now Baby

  Dead of Night (Novella)

  Gone Daddy Gone

  Addison Lockhart Series

  Grayson Manor Haunting

  Rosecliff Manor Haunting

  Maisie Fezziwig Series

  Hickory Dickory Dead

  Till Death do us Part Short Story Series

  Whispers of Murder

  Echoes of Murder

  Stand-Alone Novels

  Eye for Revenge

  The Perfect Lie