Deadly Lies

by Mary Stone

  His father laughed. “Our son, the Dog Man. It’s hard to believe he wasn’t raised by wolves.”

  Kylie’s heart pounded in her chest, and her cheeks grew warm as her temper raised by rapid degrees. “Linc runs one of the most successful search and rescue operations in the state. Just yesterday, he saved a little girl with Down syndrome who got lost.” She leaned forward, glaring at the man. “Your son is a hero. I’d like to know the last time you saved someone’s life at your law firm. Don’t you just suck blood for a living?”

  Aside from a few sharp gasps from the ladies, the room went deadly silent.

  Had she just called the men of Linc’s family bloodsuckers?

  Oh, yes. She had.

  Linc shot her a look which was the equivalent of swiping a hand across his throat. Shut up, the look said. But there was something else behind it…gratitude?

  Mrs. Coulter spoke suddenly from the head of the table. “It’s true. I’ve always thought of Lincoln as a hero.” She pushed her slight body away from the fine china at her place setting and disappeared from the room. A moment later, she was back, handing a leather scrapbook to Kylie. “Every time I see an article about Lincoln, I always clip it out and put it in here.”

  Kylie turned the pages, her mind whirling as she read bits of news articles. There were so many of them, hundreds of people he’d saved.

  When Kylie noticed how interested the wives had become, she turned the book so they could see it too, pride filling her heart. They gazed at the articles as if they’d never seen them before, with obvious interest. What? Had no one ever brought up Linc’s occupation to them? Of course, his mother knew. His father had to have known. Then why was he being such an ass?

  Kylie glanced at the elder Coulter, who was staring at her intently. Even if he was an ass, this was his house. And she’d just met him. Calling him out on his assholeness probably wasn’t the best of manners.

  Kylie cleared her throat and addressed Mr. Coulter. “I’m sure you do very important work as well. But you shouldn’t discount what Linc does just because it’s not what you want him to do.”

  He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Kylie, sweetheart, with all due respect,” he said, his voice dripping condescension, “I appreciate you defending my son like a good girlfriend should, but you don’t know a thing about what we do. Or about our family.”

  Both brothers raised their fists to their mouths, covering what she was sure were supposed to be discreet chuckles. She wanted to punch them all.

  They’d not only struck a nerve, they’d busted it wide open. She didn’t let injustices like that go. Couldn’t. She clenched her fists, ready to unleash upon them.

  “All right, time’s up,” Linc said, jumping to his feet like a bomb had gone off in his pants. “Mom, thanks for a great time. Everyone else, nice to see you. We’ve got to go.”

  Kylie stared at him, her rage quickly giving way to confusion. Linc held out his hand, and Kylie popped to her feet as well. Mrs. Coulter began to protest, asking them not to miss the, “Divine baked Alaska.”

  “Probably just a thimble full,” Kylie muttered as she linked her fingers through Linc’s.

  “What?” he asked, leading her toward the door where the butler was already waiting with their coats.

  She thrust her arms in her duster, thanking the butler for his assistance. Linc just tossed his jacket over his arm and headed into the cool night air, inhaling deeply.

  Neither of them spoke as he helped her into his truck. Kylie sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted.

  It didn’t take a genius to figure out. He was angry at her. Again. Hmm. This was starting to form a pattern.

  And it all started the night he had that nightmare.

  15

  Just another fun-filled, awesome family dinner.

  Linc drove Kylie back to her apartment, his hands tight on the wheel, his senses spiraling as he silently cursed his father.

  His asshole of a father, and those two goons he called brothers.

  There had been kids at the table, but the thoughts Linc was thinking and the things he wanted to say to those idiots were completely R-rated. He’d had to get out of there before his fists went flying, and he really gave them something to talk about.

  Or before Kylie did.

  Which, from the fire in her eyes, had been looking like the more likely option. He’d known it would happen. Known she’d see through their bullshit and call them out on it, jumping to his defense like a true warrior. Her sense of right and wrong and her desire to correct all the injustices in the world didn’t just extend to serial killers and thieves. It was like she simply couldn’t just stand by and let the bad guys win.

  Maybe that was why letting her go was easier said than done. She was the only person Linc had in this world who was willing to stand by him and fight.

  Linc was halfway to her apartment, seething about his father, when he realized she hadn’t said a word.

  “I’m sorry,” she suddenly said, the words barely over a whisper. “I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

  He looked over at her. “What? Oh, hell. It’s not you.” He should’ve known she would interpret his silence as being angry at her. He put a hand on her knee. “It’s fine. I’m just angry at them, for being their normal selves. I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

  He felt her gaze bore into the side of his face. “You’re not mad at me?”

  He squeezed her knee. “Not at all. My father is an asshole while my brothers were practically fucking you with their eyes. Their wives are like plastic bitches, and my mother works so damned hard to make everyone happy. It’s like a fucking torture chamber.”

  Her gaze was still on him. He could feel it. “It wasn’t that bad. Wait…your brothers were what?”

  Linc shook his head. “Forget it. I appreciate you going to bat for me, but it’s not worth it. They’ve been doing this shit for years and nothing’s going to change their minds about me. I’m not a hero, either. Just a guy.” He cleared his throat. “The disappointment.”

  Her hand covered his, and when he glanced over at her, she looked pale in the dashboard lights. “They’re wrong. You aren’t a disappointment. They’re just pissed that you didn’t fall into step like a good Stepford son and fellow bloodsucker.”

  Linc let out a bitter laugh. “I actually liked that part.”

  Her thumb stroked along his fingers. “Well. I may have meant it, but I still shouldn’t have said it. I don’t know when to keep my mouth shut. It’s my worst quality.” She lifted his hand to her lips, pressed a kiss to the back of it. “And I’m telling it like it is right now. You are a hero, Linc Coulter. You’re amazing. You have to believe that.”

  Right. He was so amazing, she was wearing his bruises on her arm. Yeah, he was a regular stand-up guy. A hero?

  Hey, hero!

  The little boys scrabbled for the old, half-deflated soccer ball. The little one with the shaggy hair and the baseball cap jogged up to him. “Hey, hero,” he called. “Look! My sister!” Linc followed his outstretched finger to a woman standing in the center of the marketplace. She was wearing a military vest over her traditional garments. Her eyes were bulging with fear, her body trembling. She was holding something in her hand…

  He blinked as a car laid on the horn behind him and realized he was going only thirty-five in a fifty. He picked up speed, ignoring Kylie’s curious look.

  The woman in the marketplace…who was she? She’d been in his nightmare the other night, and it seemed like he should have known who she was, but he couldn’t remember.

  “Are you okay?” Kylie asked.

  Okay?

  His pulse was throbbing in his neck. Cool sweat bathed his forehead. Linc shook away the fear, but it clung to him like it had tentacles.

  The woman in a vest. The fear in her eyes.

  He tried to remember her even while he didn’t want to remember.

  “Yeah,” he choked out and cleared his throat. “I’m good.”

/>   Her voice was soothing, but Linc needed more than a soothing voice right then. A hell of a lot more. Sex. No. She’d work him up, and he’d end up nearly punching her again. Maybe a lobotomy.

  “Want me to come over to your place? We can watch movies or something?”

  He looked over at her and managed a smile, pushing away the memories assaulting him. “What kind of movies do you watch?”

  “Oh, you know. The ones that are generally hell to men and have them counting the moments until they’re over. Rom-Coms. Dramas. Family sagas where someone dies of cancer at the end.”

  He raised his eyebrow. “Wow. That sounds…awful.”

  “Actually,” she laughed, “I like thrillers. Raunchy comedy too. Um, actually, I like all movies. What about you?”

  Linc scratched at his chin. “Can’t say I watch them much.”

  “You…don’t? So, you don’t have any movies at your house?”

  “Have you ever seen a television at my house?”

  Her jaw dropped. “Come to think of it…oh my god. How do you survive?”

  He shrugged. They pulled off at the exit for her place.

  “You could come to watch movies with me. I have hundreds. Have you ever seen The Shawshank Redemption?”

  “No.”

  “What?” She made a few sputtering sounds. “Okay. We must correct that egregious error right away, Lincoln Coulter.” Her voice was teasing.

  He shook his head. The second he paused from conversation with her, he thought of the dark, fear-filled eyes of the woman across the dusty road. “You know. That sounds good, but…” he couldn’t think of an excuse, “raincheck, okay?”

  He could practically feel her deflate. “All right.”

  Linc walked her up to her apartment building, and she asked him to come in, just to make sure that everything was okay. She’d definitely gotten spooked since her run-in with the Spotlight Killer.

  On the way up the stairs, she knocked on a neighbor’s door, and Vader began to bark incessantly. The door opened and Newfoundland bounded out, followed closely by a cloud of marijuana smoke.

  Kylie coughed, waving a hand in front of her face as she thanked the long-haired dude smiling from the doorway. “No problemo, man,” he said after Kylie handed him a twenty.

  Before Linc could complain about the quality of dog-sitters Kylie hired, Vader burst up the steps and was jumping at Kylie’s door by the time they reached the top step. Linc stroked his ears and gave the command to calm him down. It only sort of worked. The dog was too excited.

  “Hey, boy,” Linc said, crouching down to hold his big head in his hands while Kylie fished out her keys. “You been holding down the fort?”

  Vader was his normal crazy, so that was good. He calmed down and followed Linc through the little studio apartment as he made sure nothing was amiss. After she unbuckled and slipped off her shoes, Kylie trailed after him.

  Linc checked the closet and bathroom, then all the locks on the windows. “All looks good.”

  “Except one thing,” she said, her bottom lip poked out in an exaggerated pout.

  “What’s that?” He looked away. He knew what she was going to say. Before she could open her mouth, he held out a hand. “Come here.”

  He motioned to her. She wiggled against him and he engulfed her in his arms, feeling a sense of calmness that overtook him only when she was near. If only he could let that carry over into his subconscious, and he didn’t have to worry about hurting her. Linc cupped her smooth cheeks, bringing her mouth to his. He kissed the seam of her lips lightly.

  “I need to go” he said, dipping his head to her neck and inhaling her scent, letting it seep into his senses. Not too much. He couldn’t risk losing control. “I’ll see you soon. Promise.”

  A tiny crease appeared between her eyes. “If this has to do with—”

  He kissed her lightly again, closing off the words he didn’t want to hear. “Have a good night.”

  Linc forced himself to leave without looking back. He got into his truck and drove back up the mountain, all the time jamming the heels of his hands against the steering wheel. He allowed himself to be angry about the shit he was going through with Kylie, the way his family had been…because when he focused on that, he didn’t see the fear-filled eyes of that woman in the marketplace.

  Linc went home and got himself a beer, then sat on the steps heading down to the yard, watching the dogs play. Try as he might, his mind kept going back to the woman in the market, a tug-of-war ensuing in his head.

  Who was she?

  What happened next?

  But something told him he’d blocked everything out for a reason.

  Before he knew it, he’d drained the entire beer.

  He went inside the house for another, but instead found himself picking up his phone. His good buddy, Austin Burke, had been there that day. Maybe he could fill him in on what happened. It’d been awhile since they’d talked, but the bond they’d made in war meant that time was insignificant. He was due a call.

  Linc went into his old address book and found his number, then punched it in on the landline. It rang twice before someone answered. “Hello?” The female voice sounded sleepy.

  Shit. What time was it? He checked the clock on the microwave. It was after ten. That was probably too late. “Hi. I’m sorry if I’m calling too late. Can I speak to Austin?”

  There was a long pause. “Who is this?”

  “It’s Linc Coulter. Uh, Colt. Is this Lissa Burke, Austin’s wife?”

  Her voice cracked. “Ye-es. Colt?”

  “Yeah. I served with your husband over in Syria. It’s been awhile and I wanted to check in on him. I realize it’s late but—”

  He stopped when he heard what sounded like a sob.

  “Lissa?” he asked, the back of his neck prickling.

  He heard it again. She was sobbing.

  “Of course I know you, Colt. But don’t you remember?” There was worry in her voice now.

  His mouth went dry. “Remember what?”

  She was crying again, and something told him to hang up the phone before she said something that very well might destroy his world. He was too late. “Austin was killed in a suicide bombing in Syria, a week before he was due to come home. They all were.”

  They all were.

  It all came rushing back.

  They all were. Except him.

  The phone nearly slipped from his numb fingers. How had he forgotten? The woman. The blood. The death.

  “I’m…sorry,” Linc stammered. It took him three tries to hang up the phone. After that, he stumbled to the fridge, got himself another beer, and went outside, trying to get his brain to tell him what it needed to remember. But he couldn’t think of anything. It was just a big black hole.

  Rage surging through his veins, Linc wound up and hurled the beer bottle into the woods. Storm watched him and whimpered. She knew. She’d been there. If only she could tell him.

  But if it had ended with all of them dead, maybe he didn’t want to know.

  Maybe his brain was doing him a favor.

  Linc sank to the ground and ran his hands down his face, then stared into the dark woods behind his house for a very, very long time.

  16

  Kylie walked into work the following day, feeling well-rested and…like crap.

  After a pretty disastrous dinner with his family, she could tell Linc hadn’t been happy. He was tense and moodier than usual. Something told her it wasn’t just his family that had brought this on. That night with her had spooked him.

  So, yes. She was worried. She’d wanted to broach the subject of PTSD with him, but in the mood he was in, she didn’t know how. And what did she know about it? She’d just read some articles about it online. That didn’t make her the expert.

  But if she knew Linc, if he was dealing with something like that, he was the type to bury it. Bury all his emotion. Male emotion was not acceptable. He’d been beaten down by the males in his family for
so long, taught to keep that stiff upper lip. Seeking help wasn’t in their blood.

  Greg was in the office that morning, which was unusual for him, finishing some paperwork that he’d likely have her type up later. He said, “Well, short stuff, why the long face?”

  Kylie forced a smile. “Nothing. I’m good!” she said cheerily, tucking her leftover lasagna lunch into the little fridge in the back. “How are you?”

  He eyed her suspiciously. “Fine. How did things go with that old broad?”

  Pure delight spilled over the worry. “She signed us! I have my first client. It’s going pretty well. I have a list of names I need to check into today.”

  Greg laughed. “What? You don’t already have the scumbag under the jail.”

  She thought about Linc, his haunted eyes. “Not yet. I’ve been a little…distracted.”

  He squinted at her. Then he dropped his pen and folded his hands in front of him. “All right. Spill.”

  “What?”

  “You have your first solo case. I expected you to go in, all guns blazing, and have it solved by now. That’s just you. I didn’t expect to hear that you’re distracted. What’s the deal?”

  “I’m not. I mean…” Kylie sighed and planted her elbows on the desk, propping her chin in her hands. “Do you know anything about PTSD?”

  It was a long shot, she knew.

  He let out a bitter laugh. “Sweetheart, I was in Vietnam. Yeah. I do.”

  “You…were?” Of course. She could just see a younger version of Greg in uniform. He and Linc were a lot more similar than Linc and his dad, that was for sure. This was better than she’d expected. “So, you experienced, like…nightmares? Of the trauma you went through there?”

  “No. I was on the tail end of the war so I didn’t see much action, but my buddies sure did. A lot of them had a hard time getting back into regular life after they came home. There weren’t services for PTSD sufferers back then. Not like there is now.”

  Kylie leaned forward, feeling better. If this was Linc’s problem, he wasn’t alone. “Is it possible that someone can be home from deployment for years and then suddenly be affected by it?”