Tell Me No Lies

by Branton, Rachel

  Pulling out my phone, I placed a call to Ridge Harrison. His voice-mail picked up. “It’s Tessa Braxton,” I said. “It’s about Gage. I don’t know if Mia told you—I don’t remember her telling you yesterday—but she said Skeet had a large amount of money on him before the fight, but that after the murder it was gone. I think Charlie Norris was there that night, and I think he killed Skeet with a poker just like he did his own father in California. You should look up the case—no way that’s a coincidence. I think Bailey Norris covered for her brother that night like she did when her father was killed. I’m parked in front of her house now. I’m going to ask her if her brother was in town that night.”

  I hung up. I might be wrong, and if I was, I could apologize later. However, the fact that two people connected to Charlie had died from an attack with a poker was too coincidental. Even if Ridge didn’t believe me, his sense of honor would force him to look into the matter, especially if something went wrong tonight with Bailey. I forced a laugh. It’s not like she’d make me disappear or anything. Still, there was nothing wrong with telling someone where you would be.

  I went up her cement stairs and knocked on the door, painted a startling emerald green that contrasted with the white house but somehow didn’t look hideous. Bailey opened the door, a fake smile on her lips. She’d changed her off-white outfit for a red tank, black skinny jeans that showed off her long limbs to advantage, and matching high heels with sharply pointed toes. As in the police station, her eyes ran over my jeans, which were the worse for wear after my adventures of the day, and the T-shirt that showed a blotch where once again I’d dropped a bit of my last meal.

  Great. She was good at intimidation, I’d give her that.

  “Come in,” she said.

  I hesitated, wishing I could stay outside and talk, but she’d opened the door, and I didn’t see her brother around, so I went inside.

  The interior was lovely, with nice furniture and numerous decorations that went well together. I didn’t know much about style, but I knew what I liked, and we had similar taste. Leading me into a sitting room, she indicated that I should sit on the leather couch. She took the love seat opposite. I noticed she had a fireplace, but it was a gas one and wouldn’t need a poker.

  “So,” she said. “How can I help you?”

  “It’s more like how you can help Gage. As long as he has this murder hanging over him, he can’t go on with his life.”

  “Looks like he’s gone on quite nicely to me.”

  I snorted. “Well, he hasn’t.”

  “You said on the phone that your marriage wasn’t real.” There was an eagerness in the way she asked the question, an eagerness that tore at my heart and increased my resentment.

  “That’s right. I was engaged to someone else, and I found out he was unfaithful, but I needed to get married for financial reasons I don’t want to go into now. Gage helped me out.” I couldn’t bring myself to tell her the actual wedding had been fake.

  “I knew there had to be something.” She grinned in triumph.

  “Why?” Because she couldn’t imagine him loving someone like me?

  “He was adamant about not marrying, of not having children who would grow up in the shadow of a murderer like he did. I thought that feeling would fade over the years, that it wouldn’t matter in the end.”

  “But it hasn’t.”

  She shook her head slowly. “No. He broke things off before he went to prison. He wrote at first, and I thought we’d be okay, but prison made it worse. He stopped writing. It was . . . difficult.”

  “You knew he was innocent,” I prompted.

  “I believed he was.”

  “Why didn’t the police look further? Why didn’t you speak up?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. It all happened so fast.”

  The trial had gone on for months, so that wasn’t exactly true.

  “I was stunned,” she continued, her voice growing ever more faint. “Everything was falling apart, and nothing I did helped. I expected the police to find the truth, but they didn’t. Losing Gage . . . I never got over that.”

  I could sympathize. All those months he’d hidden behind that beard, and I hadn’t cared enough to really get to know him. I had only myself to blame for the emptiness I’d feel when I had to leave him for good.

  “It must have been really hard for you,” I said. “Your brother must have been a big support to you during that time.”

  She froze, her eyes digging into mine before she made an obvious attempt to relax. “My brother wasn’t here. He was in the navy.”

  A lie. Charlie had only been in the navy for a year before they kicked him out.

  “He didn’t come home to help you once he heard?”

  “I didn’t tell him.”

  Yet Charlie had told us outside Mia’s how devastated Bailey had been after Gage had broken things off. “Oh, I’m sorry. I got the impression you were close.”

  “We are. I know my brother has some substance abuse issues, but he’s a good person, and he always takes care of me.” She crossed her arms in front of her, and I was wondering if she was thinking of the torment she’d suffered from her father.

  I switched tactics. “Why do you think Gage is innocent?”

  “Because he wouldn’t kill someone in cold blood.”

  “Not even a man who raped his sister?”

  She showed no surprise. “No.”

  “Then it has to be someone else. Mia said Skeet had a lot of money on him before the fight, but afterward it disappeared. Someone took that money. If the police start an investigation into anyone who received a chunk of money at that time, we might find some answers. It might be related to drugs.”

  Bailey stood and paced to the fireplace. “It’s been too long to track that sort of thing. Besides, anyone taking the money wouldn’t be that stupid, I wouldn’t think.”

  “Then what can we do?” I arose and went to stand beside her. “You know as well as I do that Gage’s future is gone unless we can prove his innocence. Someone else was there that night. I know it. If you care about him, you’ll help me find the real killer.”

  She turned toward me. “There’s nothing either of us can do. He’ll have to get over it.” Her voice was bitter and desolate, and that’s when I knew for certain I was right. She might not be happy about it, but she was covering for Charlie. “There’s no evidence anyone else was there.”

  Nothing for it but to confront her straight on. “Skeet was killed with a poker, just like your father.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “So? I told you—Charlie wasn’t in town.”

  “Wasn’t he?” I looked at her pleadingly. “A poker is a pretty odd coincidence, don’t you think? Look, I know Charlie protected you from your father, but you can’t let Gage suffer like this. You love him. How long are you going to trade his life for Charlie’s?”

  She didn’t reply, but I saw the answer in her face. She would do it forever.

  “Never mind,” I said. “I’ll see myself out.”

  As I started for the door, she came alive, her hand reaching out to grab a statue of two children from the coffee table. She came at me fast.

  The last thing I knew was a terrible pain slicing through my skull.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “What have you done?” The male voice penetrated my unconsciousness, forcing me awake. I was lying on the floor in Bailey’s sitting room, my cheek pressed against the tan carpet. Something was wrapped around my head.

  “Me? It’s all your fault! You’re the one who got me into this mess!” It was Bailey’s voice, weepy and desperate. “If you hadn’t killed Skeet, Gage would never have gone to prison!”

  “What are you talkin’ about? I didn’t kill anyone.”

  I knew the other voice now. Bailey’s brother, Charlie, but without the alcohol slurring his speech. Ridge must have worked miracles in the hours since I’d seen him and Bailey at the police station.

  “Yes, you did. You killed hi
m, and you took Gage away from me! I had to sacrifice him for you, and I’ll never, ever forgive you for that.”

  I opened one eye and saw Bailey in her brother’s arms, hitting his chest. He was barely taller than she was and slight of build, but he was holding his own.

  “Is that what you’ve been thinkin’ all these years?”

  “You had the money—I saw it!” She hit him again.

  “Yes, I went there and took the money back. Why shouldn’t I? It was ours. That jerk had drained us long enough.”

  “But he had the poker! What if he’d given it to the cops?”

  “After all these years, I doubt it was even the same poker. There certainly wouldn’t be prints on it after so much time. It’d be our word against his. Anyway, I didn’t kill him. I wouldn’t do that to you. I wouldn’t.”

  “It wasn’t your decision to make!”

  I was testing my body as they argued. Everything seemed to work, though the side of my head pounded horribly, and my hands were secured behind my back.

  “Mine every bit as much as it was yours,” Charlie said. “I took care of it all, didn’t I? And whatever happened with Gage, you owed me.”

  “You really didn’t kill Skeet?” Bailey stepped away from him and sank to the couch.

  “I told you already that I didn’t. Is that why you wanted me to get out of town so fast that night? I knew I shoulda stayed. When I heard about the poker, I thought you’d killed him.”

  Bailey’s body shook, and her chest heaved. Sobs came between each breath. “All these years. All for nothing.”

  “Not all for nothing. We’re safe. No one knows about our old man.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  Both were silent, and I shut my eyes to think. I’d learned three things: Skeet had been blackmailing the Norrises in connection with their father’s death, Bailey suspected her brother had killed Skeet, and Charlie had thought she’d done it. One of them had to be lying, because whoever had killed Skeet had used the same kind of weapon that had killed their father.

  Or had it been a coincidence after all?

  Impossible.

  At any rate, if neither of the siblings had committed the murder, that left only Gage and Mia—or a drug deal gone bad.

  I hadn’t learned very much at all.

  Bailey’s heaving subsided, and she spoke in a much calmer voice. “They’ll never believe us now that we took her.”

  “What do you mean?” Charlie sat beside her. I peered at them through my lashes, my eyes open only a crack. Both were staring at me. Charlie was fingering his sparse goatee. His long hair was greasier than I remembered, a few strands escaping his ponytail and lying limply over his ears.

  “I mean, once she tells the police what I did to her, they’ll never believe that one of us didn’t kill Skeet. They’ll find out you took the money, and that he was blackmailing us. They’ll find out what happened with Father.”

  “What about that cop? He got his dad to drop the case back then.”

  “That was because I told him what that monster did to us. He never knew about the poker—I didn’t tell him. I don’t know if he’d help us now.”

  “He’s gone on you. I think he would.”

  “What could he do?”

  They were silent for a long moment, or maybe I lost consciousness. My head ached worse than during overnight inventory at my father’s factory. A dribble of blood leaked from the bandage into my left eye. At least it wasn’t gushing.

  “The way I see it,” Bailey said finally, “the only problem is her. If she’s gone, everything stays the same.”

  “Not everything. Gage would inherit all that money that investigator you hired said she was going to get, and once you and Gage get married, it’ll be ours. Think of it—half a million and monthly payments, too. We wouldn’t have to worry again.”

  “It would make life a lot easier, that’s for sure. Maybe I could quit work and go into the field with him.”

  Charlie snorted. “Like you could stand living out of a tent.”

  “I wouldn’t mind if I was with Gage.”

  “Lie to yourself if you want. I don’t believe you.”

  “I don’t care what you think.”

  My mind took time deciphering the shocking meaning that seemed to have no relationship to the actual words. The two fed off each other, co-enablers with a distorted sense of right. Knowing about my trust fund only made things worse. Money justified a lot of malicious deeds, as I’d learned from my father and Julian.

  “He belongs to me,” Bailey said. “She stole him.”

  More silence for the space of several heartbeats, and then Charlie said, “I’ll get rid of the Jeep.”

  “Use gloves. Don’t let anyone see you.”

  Something had been decided between them, and though exactly what remained unspoken, I knew it meant trouble for me. Charlie disappeared briefly, returning to slip his hand into my back pocket for Gage’s keys. I waited until he was gone before opening my eyes and struggling to a sitting position. Bailey watched me from the couch, her brown eyes placid instead of troubled. That scared me more than anything. Her mind was made up.

  I had to try anyway. “Bailey, please let me go. Look, you won’t get the money. The marriage wasn’t valid. Gage was worried I’d have regrets, so he paid a friend to fake it.”

  She barked a hoarse laugh. “Sounds like him. Stupid sense of chivalry cost him half a million bucks. Well, the money isn’t as important as getting him. I’m glad you aren’t really married.”

  “You have to help me prove he’s innocent. Otherwise he won’t marry you, either.”

  “I don’t need you. I’ll find my own way.”

  “By giving up Charlie to the police? Because the only way Gage will ever be free to live his life is to find the real murderer.”

  “Charlie didn’t do it,” she told me, but I could see by the deepening furrow between her eye that I’d made a dent in her armor.

  “Maybe he just doesn’t want you to know. Gage didn’t do it, and Charlie’s the one who turned up with the money, so he must have killed Skeet. It’s the only explanation that fits. Look, I called Ridge before I came here, and I told him I thought you were covering for Charlie and that I was coming to see you. It’s only a matter of time before he begins asking questions—especially if I’m missing.” I conveniently left out the fact that I hadn’t actually talked to him. For all I knew, he’d gone out of town for the night and wouldn’t check those messages for days.

  “Doesn’t matter. I’ll deny it. Anyway, he’ll do anything for me.”

  “Not cover up a murder. He’s dedicated to his job.”

  “Your coming here isn’t my fault. He’ll see that.”

  “I doubt it. Besides, he let Gage rot in prison, and he was innocent. Why not you?”

  “Ridge wasn’t on duty that night. He wasn’t the one who arrested Gage.”

  “No, that was your fault.”

  She didn’t reply.

  “You were worried once Mia started asking questions, weren’t you? Is that why you sent her that threatening note?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t send any note.”

  “Sure,” I said. “But Gage knows about the note now. He’ll never forgive you if you hurt Mia or me. He may not love me”—it wounded me to say this—“but he is my friend.”

  She jumped to her feet and began pacing. “Shut up, would you? I need to think!”

  I’d been testing the tie on my hands and determined it was some kind of tape. No way was I getting out of it easily. “Just let me go, and I won’t tell anyone,” I lied.

  She barked a laugh. “Yeah, right, and I’m supposed to believe you?”

  “I know about your father. Charlie killed him, right? To protect you from his abuse. I know that makes you feel obligated to him, but what you did to Gage—that’s not love. Tell me, does losing him atone for the six years he spent in prison for a crime he didn’t commit? “


  “Shut up, shut up, shut up!” she screamed, lashing out at me with the toe of her pump. Pain needled through my thigh where the sharp point hit. “Charlie said he didn’t kill that creep. I believe him.”

  She sounded absolutely sure. A chill ran through me. Was it possible she had been the one responsible for Skeet’s death? Had she sacrificed Gage for her own protection?

  Yet she’d been so upset with Charlie. I wasn’t sure what to believe.

  Bailey began pacing the small room again, and I felt precious time ticking away. Once Charlie returned, my chances of escaping unscathed would plunge considerably.

  “Please call Ridge,” I urged. “He’ll know what to do. He really likes you—I saw that right away.”

  A hint of a smile flashed over her face. “He’s a kind man. But he isn’t what you think, either. He’s not perfect.”

  “Of course not. Neither is Gage. Or me.”

  She gave me a flat stare. “You shouldn’t have gotten mixed up with Gage.”

  “I’m not mixed up with him.”

  She stopped pacing abruptly, her hands curling at her sides. “You think I can’t see how you feel about him? I’m not stupid or blind. You care about him a lot more than you’re saying. You may even love him, and what’s worse, I think he believe he feels something for you.” Venom laced these last words, and her eyes stabbed into mine as though by glaring at me I would either admit to her intelligence or disappear entirely.

  Maybe she was right about Gage. I hadn’t imagined the way he’d kissed me and how I’d felt—how we’d felt.

  “You’ve got it all wrong,” I said, before hope had a chance to grow any larger than a seed. “Gage will never let himself love anyone.”

  Someone slammed through a back door. We both turned at the clatter—me praying for rescue and Bailey with an animal readiness in every line of her slender body. She brought her hands forward, her fingers hooked like claws, though her fingernails were short and blunt, probably from her work in the yard.

  “Look what I found.” Charlie came around the corner and into the room, half-dragging, half-carrying a struggling Dylan. I glimpsed shock on Bailey’s face before her features hardened to stone. “He was in the Jeep,” Charlie said. “Hiding in the back seat.”