Liar, Liar

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Liar, Liar Page 5

by Winter Austin


  Blowing her disarrayed hair out of her face, Liza arched, pressing her hands against her lower back. She nodded to the blazing inferno. “You can see that thing from space.”

  “I think that was her plan.” Shane swiped the sleeve of his shirt across his forehead, mopping up the puddle of sweat. “The house wasn’t exactly small, either.”

  “Burn, baby, burn,” Roslin cackled.

  Liza sighed. “Anything he might have had stashed away in the house is now gone.” She groaned. “I’ll never know for certain if he was my guy.”

  “We’re not without options.”

  “Gone. It’s gone. All gone,” Roslin said.

  Shane eyed the crazy woman propped against the tire. This was a woman who managed one of the banks in town. She dressed like a professional, polished and sophisticated, with an air of class that put her a cut above McIntire County. And for some damn reason, the hard-working women of the county didn’t hate her for it—no, they admired her, wanted to be like her.

  Now look at her. Roslin Avery was a raving lunatic. What had Gene done to knock her off her rocker?

  “Sheriff?”

  He turned to the head of the volunteer fire crew. “Hey, Jim.”

  “I’ve told the guys to spray the surrounding area. We’re going to need more trucks and crews.”

  “I had Jennings put out a call for any and all available units.”

  Jim nodded. “Good.”

  “What about the propane tank at the back of the house?”

  “We’ll keep an eye on it. Seems like it’s letting off the pressure fine, but we won’t take any chances. I contacted the propane company as soon as the call came in. They’re sending a crew this way.”

  “Boom!”

  Jim jolted, gaping at Roslin. “What the heck?”

  “Don’t mind her.” Shane gripped Jim’s shoulder and squeezed, steering the fire crew leader away. “I’ll be here. Keep me posted.”

  Touching a finger to his forehead, Jim returned to his men, bypassing Shane’s young deputy.

  Murdoch jogged up to him, her features strained. “Bossman, what happened?”

  Glancing around, he beckoned her closer, then, putting an arm over her shoulders, guided her to Liza and Roslin. “I want you to take Mrs. Avery to the department and put her in a cell.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m charging her with arson. She purposely set that house on fire. And I’m tacking on threatening an officer of the law with intent for bodily harm.”

  Murdoch stutter-stepped to a stop and gaped at him. “She set the house on fire?”

  “Cheat me, you little bastard,” Roslin blurted.

  Murdoch’s gaze darted from the irrational woman to him, and back.

  “Oh, and she’s high on something and drunk.”

  His young deputy scrubbed her face, and with a pop of her lips, she set forth to her task. With some assistance from Liza, Murdoch hauled Roslin to her squad car. Once the woman was tucked in the back seat, Murdoch gave him a two-fingered salute—a trait she’d picked up from Boyce—and then climbed into her car, driving off.

  Liza rejoined him next to the hood of his truck. “What do you think she meant by ‘he cheated’?”

  “That I don’t know. Could be she found something in the house she thought was proof he cheated on her with another woman.”

  The agent’s mouth cocked to the side, and she seemed to work over his assumption in her head. “Mmm, I don’t know.” She shrugged quickly. “Then again, I didn’t take him as the marrying kind, either.” She shifted to face him. “Was she always that crazy?”

  “Not even close. If she was a drug user, she hid it from everyone.”

  “And whatever secrets they were hiding in that house are burned up.” Liza’s eyes narrowed. “Like that was the plan all along.”

  Shane averted his gaze from the rigid woman at his side and focused on the fire crew as they battled the spread of the inferno. Were Roslin’s mad ramblings a cover for something darker?

  Was Gene Avery the embezzlement mastermind Liza had been chasing for years? If his schemes had finally caught up with him, the citizens of Eider were going to look for a scapegoat for their missing money. And sadly, in this county, anyone could become the scapegoat—Shane included.

  Chapter Six

  Thankfully, the gas tank the sheriff was concerned about blowing didn’t. The propane company was able to stabilize the situation and prevent any further destruction.

  Liza studied the whole ordeal of putting out the fire like she was watching a TV drama—one part fascinated by the unfamiliar procedure, two parts bored that this was taking so long. But there was one bright spot, and he held most of her attention. Sheriff Hamilton took co-lead with Jim, the designated fire chief of the volunteer crew. Hamilton barked out commands and directed people where they were most needed, and warded off the curious public with a mixture of cajoling and sternness that sent even the most stubborn people on their merry way. His actions and conduct spoke of a man who’d long been in command of people, which was expected of a sheriff, but his movements revealed something deeper. Much deeper.

  Was the cowboy sheriff more than he presented to the public?

  Another vehicle joined the fray and parked near Hamilton’s truck. From her post sitting on the truck’s lowered tailgate, Liza waited as the driver emerged. Tall, dark-haired, and wearing an Eider police uniform, Detective Con O’Hanlon spotted her. His blue eyes twinkling with mischief so like the little men in green that his native homeland had once believed in, he gave her a wink, then strolled over.

  “Agent Bartholomew, I was not made aware that you’d be paying the in-laws a visit.”

  “I’m not here in a visiting capacity.” She shook his offered hand. “Boyce has no idea I’m here.”

  Con jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Well, if he’s watching the news, he knows now.”

  Liza peeked around the Irishman’s muscular frame and cringed at the sight of the three news vans she hadn’t noticed before. Too busy staring at a particular sheriff. “Damn it,” she muttered, hopping down from the tailgate. “How long have they been here?”

  “Who knows? So what brings you to our little town of mayhem and chaos?”

  Mayhem and chaos—that about summed up what she’d witnessed so far. “Actually, it’s a long story.” Cupping the back of her neck, she waved her free hand at the dwindling fire. “And it hasn’t gone exactly as planned.”

  “Par for the course in McIntire County, I’m afraid.”

  Better take another conversation path before Con got too curious about her unexpected presence. “How’s the family? I heard you had a baby girl.”

  Beaming as only a proud daddy would, Con unearthed his billfold and removed a wallet-sized photo of a toothy toddler boy and a curly-top girl, both with dark hair and bright blue eyes. “Liam and Honor, both the apple of their mam’s eye.”

  Liza chuckled. “Or is that the apple of their dad’s eye?”

  Con winked.

  The green-eyed monster reared its head. Since Kurt and Stephanie had married and had Quinn, Liza fought her envy over Kurt getting what she wanted—a marriage and a family. Her job as an FBI agent was losing its luster. Despite a “mild” job in fraud, she had seen more evil and ugliness than she wanted. Then even Boyce got married and had a kid.

  Everyone had a family but her.

  But Ripley was still out there, and she couldn’t let that business go unfinished.

  Behind her, Hamilton hollered some incoherent order. Well, Hamilton didn’t have a family, either. There was a little consolation in that. She shifted to observe the man as he strode to the fluttering yellow caution tape where a young woman was trying to duck under. Someone was obviously making an attempt for an exclusive shot.

  “You and the sheriff are friends, right?” Liza asked Con.

  “Since we were in school.”

  She made a noise of half-interest. “But you’re not the same age?”
>
  Con snorted. “Hell, no. He’s older than me.” He leaned forward. “That old fart’s birthday is soon, and my mam is planning a party that will make him seriously contemplate becoming a drinking man.”

  “He doesn’t drink?”

  “Used to, back in high school.” Con’s forehead crinkled, like he was deep in thought. “I always wondered why he quit, but he’s not one to do much talking.” A grin broke out on the man’s face. “I do enough for the both of us.”

  “That I can see.” Liza’s gaze drifted back to the subject of their new line of conversation. “I’m sure he has his reasons.”

  “We all do. Why so interested?”

  She shrugged. “I’m an observer of people, and well, he intrigues me.”

  Humor lit up the Irishman’s eyes. “Does he now?”

  “O’Hanlon, what is your lazy butt doing here?” Hamilton interrupted before Liza could rebuff any thoughts Con might be having about her and his friend.

  “Police chief wanted me to ask if you were in need of assistance,” Con replied.

  “Naw, got this under control. Was just contemplating leaving the cleanup duties to the fire crews. I’ve asked the state fire marshal to send down an investigator.”

  “This wasn’t an accident?”

  Liza slid her grimy hands into her back pockets and eased back a step. This was Hamilton’s show, and in no way was she going to spill the beans about what Roslin Avery had done.

  “Come to the office in two hours and we’ll talk.” Hamilton’s attention swiveled to her. “Let’s head out.” He closed the tailgate on his truck.

  “Sure thing.” She flashed a smile at Con. “Later, Detective.”

  He returned her wave, then returned to his vehicle and climbed in. As Con backed out, Liza moved to the passenger side of Hamilton’s truck. She popped the door and stepped onto the running board but hesitated before getting inside. Examining the immaculate interior, then her filthy clothing, she gnawed on her lip. Did she dare soil the man’s upholstery?

  On the other side, soot-covered, streaked with dirt and grass stains, Hamilton settled into his seat. He did a double take as he reached for the key. “Problems?”

  “Uh, I wasn’t sure if you’d mind my dirty rear end on the seat cover.”

  He shrugged, starting the engine. “I’ve looked and smelled worse than this and still drove it. I’ve got a detail guy who’s been chomping at the bit to do another cleaning. Go ahead, make a big mess.”

  “If you insist,” she said, sliding into her seat.

  “Oh, I insist.”

  Liza snapped her seat belt. “You’re one strange man, Sheriff.”

  “You don’t know the half of it, Agent Bartholomew.” He dislodged his big truck out of the ruts he created plowing into the yard. “You still hungry?” He maneuvered the vehicle onto the road while dodging people and obstacles.

  Liza checked the time on her iPhone and groaned. Six thirty-three. “I’m starving.” Her peppermint mocha indulgence had long burned up in her system. And her last remembered meal was the lone energy bar she’d eaten as she left Cedar Rapids that morning.

  “I’ll have Murdoch pick us up some food when we get back to the station.”

  “Why is she still running rookie errands for you? Isn’t she a full-blown deputy?”

  “Questioning my methods, Agent?”

  “Damn straight I am.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched. “Never let it be said that you weren’t persistent. I need to get back to the station, ASAP. Murdoch has more leeway to do a food run.”

  “Why the hurry to get back? You really should wait on the fire investigator.”

  “Should, but Jennings paged me. Apparently my prisoner is causing a ruckus, making demands my deputies won’t listen to.”

  “So you go.”

  A lift of his chin was all the acknowledgment she got, which fit his persona. The good ole boy doing his sworn duty. More people could learn from Hamilton, and then maybe there would be less sexism and fewer problems.

  What the hell? Was she bordering on worshipping him? Okay, time to backtrack this and get her focus back on her duty, watching the scenery flash by being the safest option.

  Liza had given up trying to memorize any of it after Hamilton got the call about the fire. There were so many back roads and twists and turns that sent her head spinning. She’d bet her badge and Sig none of these gravel roads were on a map. Which explained why her GPS had fits, utterly failing her when she drove into town.

  Short of admitting her little weakness to Hamilton, she was going to have to come up with an excuse to not drive around the county on her own. And any excuse she’d pull out of her ass would be lame at best. This few-hours jaunt had turned into a nightmare for a woman who was directionally challenged outside of Cedar Rapids.

  “Must be some tough thinking you’ve got goin’ on there.”

  Her gaze jerked from the window to him; she blinked as her nutrient-deprived mind tried to catch up with her quick movements. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

  He chuckled, a deep rumbling sound she felt all the way to her toes. It warmed her in those cold, dark places of her soul no one had touched before; not even her nephew Quinn managed that, and the kid was something special to her.

  “I’d like to have a conversation with Roslin.”

  “I think that can be arranged. But I’d rather wait until tomorrow. Let her sleep off whatever craziness is going on up there in her head.”

  “Makes sense. However, what am I going to do in the meantime? I can’t go back to Cedar Rapids tonight and let my SAC know I have nothing to show for this trip except a dead man and a burnt house.”

  “You could stay here in Eider. Tomorrow you can gather what you need before heading back.”

  “Where do you propose I stay? I didn’t exactly put in a voucher for a hotel.”

  “Cassy and Boyce’s house is empty for the time being.”

  Liza frowned. “Why’s that?”

  “Cassy is training as a K-9 handler, and Boyce and their baby went along.”

  Empty house, and if it was the same place Cassy had lived in the last time Liza was here, she knew how to get there, and from the sheriff’s department, too. Only if the Hunts hadn’t moved.

  “I appreciate the offer, but will they be okay with it?”

  “Considering I’m the one in charge of looking after the place, I don’t think they’ll mind. Only condition I have is you need to cover chores.”

  “Chores?”

  Hamilton grinned but kept his focus on the road. “Cassy owns a pair of horses that need grain in the morning, and you check the water to make sure it’s running okay.”

  “Horses?”

  “It’s easy. I can show you where the feed is and how much.”

  “Sheriff—”

  “Shane.”

  She blinked. Wha—? Oh, he was just trying to be friendly. After all, she did mention that he should call her Liza. “All right, Shane, I haven’t ever owned an animal in my life. Are you sure this is wise, having me feed horses?”

  “They’re mostly self-sufficient. If you forget to give them their grain once, it won’t hurt them. Makes them grumpy, yeah, but they have plenty of pasture to graze on, so they won’t starve.”

  It all sounded simple enough, and if he was going to show her how to do it, maybe he’d lead her there—she could make sure it was the same place as before—and she wouldn’t have to worry about getting lost.

  “Okay, if you’re sure Cassy and Boyce won’t mind.”

  “I can give them a call if it would make you feel better.”

  “Preferred.” That solved that. Liza inhaled, caught the smell of her clothing, and grimaced. Oh, this so was not going to fly. She needed clean clothing. Was that emergency overnight bag still in the car? Had she checked to see if the clothing inside was clean after the last time she used it? “Oh, crapola.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t think I have a clean set
of clothing with me. Damn it.”

  “I’m sure Cassy wouldn’t mind if you wore something of hers.”

  Liza eyeballed the man next to her. “How are you so certain that her clothing would fit me?”

  She didn’t think it possible, but Shane Hamilton’s face changed to an interesting shade of pink. Could it be? The man did get embarrassed.

  “Well,” he choked out, “uh . . . you two look similar in . . . size.”

  “I don’t know how I should feel about that. I look like a formerly pregnant woman?”

  His face flamed bright red. “Not what I was saying.”

  A wicked grin turned up the corners of her mouth. Oh, he made this too easy. “What was I supposed to assume, Sheriff?”

  “That you needed clean clothing and Cassy’s would fit you.”

  “How would Cassy feel about you pimping out her clothes?”

  His mouth dropped and closed. If she gave him a few minutes, his eyes might glaze over and he’d have a fit. “I’m not pimping out her clothing.”

  “But it never crossed your mind I could buy something?”

  Now he was utterly flustered. Ooh, he looked damn fine all tongue-tied and twisted.

  “I just thought you’d . . . ” He hmphed. “You’re one wicked woman. You had me going.”

  “I thought for sure the smile would give me away.”

  “That was a smile? Looked more like you were baring your teeth.”

  Shrugging, Liza scooted into a slump in the seat. “Baring my teeth, smiling, it’s all in the eye of the beholder.” She closed her eyes. “I’ll see what Cassy has. If nothing fits, I’ll have to make a run to the store. No biggie.”

  “You didn’t have to make a production of Chicago out of it.”

  “Oh, but it was way too fun.”

  Chapter Seven

  After settling Liza in at the Hunts’, showing her the ropes with the horses, and waiting for Murdoch to drop off Liza’s meal, Shane returned to the office. Well, there was a moment of awkward shuffling of boots and silence right before he walked out the door. Damn, he hadn’t felt so tongue-tied and gangly since he was a teenager about to steal his first kiss. There was something about that witty woman that turned him into a man he’d long thought dead.

 

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