Sweet Liar

by Debra Doxer

  “Is that you?” he asked.

  It took me by surprise how quickly he’d turned my comment around on me.

  “Is it, Candy?”

  I scoffed. “When have I ever been normal?”

  I looked down at my notebook, noticing that my heart was beating a little faster. Of course the answer was yes to at least two of them, maybe three, but I wasn’t going to say it. I’d already made myself vulnerable enough to Jonah. He wasn’t getting me to admit those things to him.

  “Nice move, by the way,” I said, still looking at my own scribbles. “You did a good thing here today.”

  “Glad you approve.”

  Jonah shifted in his seat, and the next thing I knew he was talking to the blonde. As I listened to their hushed voices, I glanced at the clock and wondered what he was doing. My stomach knotted a little more each time Jonah made her giggle. Not too much later, he had the girl in stitches, and I couldn’t help scowling in their direction. He wasn’t that funny, so I had no idea what she could be laughing at.

  When the bell finally rang, I stood up and reached the door first. As students spilled out into the hallway, everyone was talking about Mr. Harris. By the time lunch rolled around, I thought I might vomit if I heard his name again. Good thing I didn’t bring any food to eat.

  Outside the cafeteria door, I found Ethan questioning Lea. “Did that perv ever touch you? You had him last year.”

  Lea shook her head.

  “Are you being straight with me?”

  She huffed in frustration. “I swear. He never hit on me. I’m probably not his type, or maybe I’m just not pretty enough. Never thought that would turn out to be a good thing.”

  Ethan’s forehead wrinkled. “What are you talking about?”

  It was at that moment that Lea spotted me. “Did you hear?”

  “I’m pretty sure everyone’s heard.”

  “Did he try anything with you?” Ethan asked in a way that made me smile at his unexpected protective streak, although his voice had been a lot fiercer when he’d asked Lea.

  Like Lea, I shook my head, but didn’t reveal that it was thanks to Jonah.

  The three of us walked to the lunch table together only to find everyone else was already there. When I spotted Jonah relaxed in his seat with his legs sprawled out beneath the table, I wondered if he ever worked on that car in the auto shop classroom anymore. Had his interest in the car been the truth, or just a lie to get me alone? My chest felt uncomfortably tight at the possibility of more lies Jonah might have told that I hadn’t even thought of yet.

  As I sat down at the familiar round table, I wasn’t surprised to hear more gossip about Mr. Harris. Apparently half the girls in school were claiming he’d done something with them. For some reason, they all wanted in on it. I bet if Mr. Harris looked more like Homer Simpson and less like Bradley Cooper, they wouldn’t be so eager. The claims against Harris were piling up, and I had no idea how he could have done it all and still taught any classes.

  When Parker hinted that Harris had flirted with her and possibly more, I wanted to grab the closest fork and jab her in the eye. Fabricating stories about Harris could only hurt the real claims, and I was fairly sure she was full of it.

  Finally, when I couldn’t take any more, I looked at Lea and said, “I’ve got things to do. I’ll see you later.” Then I got up and walked out. As I reached the door, I heard Jonah say my name before he came up beside me.

  I raised my eyebrows curiously.

  “You’re not eating,” he said.

  “What?”

  He bent down to put his face in front of mine. “Other than one bite of those awful pancakes, I haven’t seen you eat a thing in the past few days, and I’m betting there’s no cookie stash in your locker anymore.”

  My pulse raced and my palms got clammy, all because his face was only inches away from mine.

  “Don’t bother denying it. Just do me a favor and eat something.” He held out his hand. Sitting there on a napkin was the sandwich that had been on his tray all through lunch.

  “Why didn’t you eat it?”

  “I’ll get myself another one.”

  His act of kindness got to me like all the ones that came before it.

  When I considered the sandwich, he said, “The only reason I’m still coming to this hellhole every day is because you agreed to work on Drew for information, and if that’s your plan, I need to keep an eye on you. I can’t do that if you’re wasting away.”

  “I’m hardly wasting away.”

  Jonah pushed the sandwich at me again, and I took it. Then he stood there watching me, obviously waiting for me to take a bite. With a sigh, I did.

  “So you think this place is a hellhole?” I asked with my mouth full.

  “Isn’t high school one of the circles of hell in Dante’s Inferno?”

  “I don’t think you’re the first person to make that joke.” I laughed. “Besides, you didn’t look like you were in hell during English today. The blonde with the hyena laugh didn’t look too tortured either.”

  Oops. The moment the words left my mouth, I wanted them all back. I didn’t want to sound jealous. I didn’t want to be jealous.

  Jonah rested his hands on his narrow hips. “Hyena laugh,” he repeated, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “I thought her laugh was sort of lyrical.”

  “Lyrical? She sounded like a sick cat.”

  He smiled widely, far too pleased by the conversation.

  “And you don’t have to keep an eye on me,” I added. “Unlike the rest of us, if you don’t like it here, you can stop coming.”

  “But I like keeping an eye on you, Candy.”

  I tilted my head skeptically. Was he going to make an eye-candy joke? It wasn’t like he’d be the first to do that, either. But he didn’t. He just grinned at me in that sarcastic way he had.

  Rolling my eyes, I walked away before I said more stupid stuff.

  “Eat your sandwich,” he called after me.

  I pivoted. “The more you tell me to eat it, the more I don’t want to.”

  “Fine.” He shrugged. “Don’t eat it.”

  My eyes narrowed. Was that supposed to be reverse psychology or something? The urge to stick my tongue out at him was too hard to resist, so I didn’t resist it. He chuckled as I walked away, eating the sandwich because I actually was hungry.

  I had the Honda today, so I was able to drive myself home and think about tonight. In the hours between school ending and darkness falling, I did nothing but think about it. So much was riding on this dinner at the Hoyts’ house that I was a bundle of nerves as I got ready, trying to look nice in a black skirt and boots.

  I hadn’t told Jonah about the dinner, even though things were better between us, because I couldn’t lose sight of my goal—to help my father. If the Hoyts could help me, I wouldn’t need Victor. If I were going behind Victor’s back with the Hoyts, I had to keep that from Jonah because he would undoubtedly tell his father. Jonah was a strange dichotomy of good intentions and blind loyalty to his father. It was a volatile mix that would probably blow up in his face or mine at some point.

  While getting dressed, I recalled what Victor said about my father being “in it” with Mr. Hoyt, and that made me believe Mr. Hoyt would want to help my father because he’d be helping himself. It made sense.

  Then, just about the time I was putting on lip gloss, I decided it didn’t make sense. How could the Hoyts be involved in anything like this? Mrs. Hoyt was so sweet and friendly, and Mr. Hoyt dressed up like a clown for all of Drew’s birthday parties. How could they work for the organization? How could they be traitors alongside my father? Why would they do it? I knew my father’s reason, but I had no idea what theirs could be.

  If the Hoyts made no mention of the organization or my father tonight, was it risky or just plain reckless to bring it up first? If I brought it up, how much should I say? What was the smart way to play this?

  What would my father do, I asked myself as I had
so many times since he’d been taken. I had no idea, but I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to tell them everything because I didn’t think I could help my father on my own. I was just me, an eighteen-year-old high school senior. What could I do?

  The pressure of this night closed in on me with each question I asked myself. Pulling out my phone, I thought about calling Lorraine. I felt the need to talk to someone, and she was all I had right now, the only person I could trust. Could I ask her opinion? I already knew she didn’t want me to interfere because she thought my father wouldn’t approve. But not interfering in my father’s fate wasn’t an option.

  Gripping the phone, I wavered. Each time we spoke, Lorraine asked how her son was. I always replied that he was good, but I didn’t elaborate because I didn’t know for sure. Jonah seemed fine, but he was good at hiding things.

  I was good at it too. I’d seen Jonah the day after speaking to his mother, but I said absolutely nothing to him about her. I continued to say nothing, thinking my conscience wouldn’t bother me because Jonah had told so many lies, but I was wrong.

  I didn’t like keeping this secret. It made me not want to talk to Lorraine very often. It also made me feel guilty each time I looked into Jonah’s eyes.

  After a moment of hesitation, I put my phone away.

  ***

  I left some food out for Pumpkin and after making a quick stop at the store, I drove over to the Hoyts’ house. My hand actually trembled slightly as I rang the doorbell.

  Their house looked much like I remembered it, even though I hadn’t been here in years. There was a small porch on the front, and all the doors and shutters were painted red. Their house was a different style than ours, with two floors instead of one, but it wasn’t much larger. Unlike my house, someone had used a snow blower to neatly clear all the snow from their walkway and driveway.

  When Drew pulled the door open with a big smile on his face, he was still wearing the jeans he’d worn to school. I had definitely overdressed.

  “For me? Thanks.” Drew grinned as he reached out for the flowers I’d picked up at the grocery store on my way here.

  I batted his hand away. “They’re for your mom.”

  He feigned disappointment as he gestured for me to come inside. I walked into a warm, bright entryway that seemed to welcome me. Beyond it, I could see into the living room. Their decorating style was a lot like ours, and I recalled my mother and Mrs. Hoyt going shopping together and getting excited when they found deals on items for the house, silly stuff like glass candy dishes and patterned pillows.

  “I can take your coat,” Drew said. Then he spotted the tiny red lights at my wrists. “Whoa, are those gloves heated?”

  I nodded as I pressed the buttons to turn the gloves off.

  “Cool. Where’d you get them?”

  “Warm, actually,” I joked, “and I got them online.” Telling him the whole truth about how I’d gotten the gloves didn’t seem like a good idea.

  He chuckled politely at my bad joke, and after he had taken my coat with the gloves stuffed in the pockets, his mother came in the room. Her dark blond hair, the same color as Drew’s, was cut in a bob style, the length just brushing her shoulders. It was the same way she’d always worn it.

  She hugged me hard, just like when I saw her at the diner that day. Obviously she hadn’t spotted the bouquet of flowers I was holding, because I had to quickly move them to the side before she crushed them. As I returned the hug with my free arm, I heard Drew snickering at his mother’s gesture from behind me.

  When she released me, I handed her the flowers. “Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Hoyt.”

  “You didn’t have to bring me anything, and I think you’re old enough to call me Alison.” Then she gushed over the flowers and left to get a vase.

  “She’s still a hugger,” Drew said with a wry grin.

  “I can see that.”

  “So, how are you?” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I never seem to run into you at school. Just that one time.”

  That one time was when I was acting as a lookout for Jonah while he stuffed the cheerleaders’ stolen lockbox into Parker’s locker.

  I grinned. “We’re like ships passing in the night.”

  He gave me a small smile, looking a little perplexed. I guessed he wasn’t a fan of poetry or Barry Manilow songs.

  “I heard you and Jonah Bryson were a thing.” He watched me for a reaction, and I wasn’t thrown because I figured he’d bring it up.

  “We were. For about two minutes.”

  Drew grinned. “It took him all of two minutes to screw it up?”

  “Maybe I screwed it up.”

  His expression became speculative as he leaned back on his heels. “Did you?”

  “Yeah, by dating him in the first place.” I figured that was what he wanted to hear, and his smile only widened, convincing me I was right.

  “I did warn you about him.”

  “I should have listened.” I shrugged, a little uncomfortable talking about this with Drew.

  Mrs. Hoyt—Alison—came back in. “Drew, why are you both still standing in the entryway?”

  Drew held out his arm, waiting for me to walk ahead of him toward the dining room, where Alison was standing with her phone in her hand.

  “Tom’s flight is delayed,” she said. “He’s stuck in Chicago and he’s just telling me now. Obviously, he won’t be home in time for dinner. He’s disappointed to miss seeing you, Candy.”

  I mustered a smile, even though I was probably more disappointed than he was. I was counting on talking to him tonight.

  “More food for us. I hope you brought your appetite.” She grinned. I might have been imagining it, but her smile looked a little forced, almost brittle, as if she were on edge too.

  Alison had placed the flowers I brought in a glass vase and set them in the middle of the dining room table. The way the table was set, it looked as if someone much more important was coming to dinner.

  Drew and I went into the kitchen and helped Alison by carrying the drinks and the bread basket she’d prepared.

  “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble,” I said, surveying it all.

  She shrugged as we sat down. “It was no trouble. I always try to have a family dinner on Fridays. Everyone is so busy during the week.”

  Then she asked me about school and how I was liking being back in Glenn Valley. When she asked about the time I spent with my aunt, I sugarcoated my answers for her.

  Oddly, she said nothing about my father. She didn’t ask after him at all, almost like she was avoiding the subject. By the time we were well into the main course, I realized if I didn’t bring him up myself, she might not mention him, and I didn’t want to leave here without talking about him at all.

  I swallowed a bite of chicken, forcing it down. “Do you see my father much?” I finally asked before taking a sip of water.

  Alison’s gaze darted to Drew before she answered. “No, Candy. I’m afraid we don’t. There just never seems to be enough time.”

  “I don’t see him much either. Or at all, actually.” I stared at Alison, desperate for something more from her, begging for it with my eyes.

  She sat there looking at me, and her body stilled. When I felt tears pressing in on me, I broke away to look at Drew, who had a strangely expectant expression on his face as he watched his mother.

  Finally, Alison exhaled and dropped her fork onto her plate with a clatter.

  “I can’t do this,” she said.

  Drew nodded at her, his posture relaxing.

  My gaze shifted between the two of them, wondering what thoughts were being silently exchanged.

  “Candy.” Alison’s expression became sympathetic. “We know your father’s not at home with you. We know he’s gone.”

  My emotions were running so high that tears sprang to my eyes. I couldn’t do much more than blink them away as overwhelming relief washed over me. They knew, and they wanted to talk to me t
oo.

  “Oh, Candy,” Alison said softly when she saw my tears. Coming to stand beside me, she rubbed my back soothingly and kept saying it was going to be all right.

  “Can I tell her?” Drew asked.

  Alison nodded with a resigned expression.

  “Our dads worked together,” Drew said. “I’ve known all along. Since we were kids, but I wasn’t supposed to say anything because your father didn’t want us to.”

  “Why didn’t my father want me to know?” I managed to ask. “Didn’t he trust me?”

  “He did it to protect you,” Alison said. She bent down to my eye level. “Your father wanted to keep his job separate from his family because his role was different from most of ours. Do you know what he did for the organization?”

  I swallowed, understanding why her voice had taken on a grave tone. “He killed people.”

  She nodded. “He thought that made him dirtier than the rest of us. He kept so much from you because he didn’t want any of that to taint you or your mother.”

  “But we knew.”

  Alison nodded. “Over time, you came to know some of it. But your father kept the details from you and your mother.”

  Everything Alison told me sounded just like my father. Secrets were a part of him like the blood in his veins and the darkness that lived behind his eyes.

  “What’s Mr. Hoyt’s role in the organization?” I asked. I’d always been told he was some kind of diplomat.

  She smiled. “Persuasion. Getting people to do what he wants.”

  “Espionage,” Drew said, sounding impressed. “And he speaks how many languages?”

  “Four,” Alison replied.

  Four languages. That caught my attention. “Including Chinese?”

  They both looked at me. “What makes you ask that?”

  I gnawed the inside of my cheek as the words sat poised on my tongue, but deep down, I knew I had to take a chance. I’d already taken one when I admitted my father was gone, and now I had to tell them why if I wanted to learn more.

  “I saw some documents of my father’s. They were written partly in Chinese. I found out my mother was in a clinical trial for an experimental cancer drug financed by the Chinese government. My father managed to get her into it by giving them something in exchange.” I released a shallow breath. “He did what they’re accusing him of. He’s guilty, but only because he wanted to get my mother into this drug trial.”