Liar, Liar

by Winter Austin

  “Cheyenne? Who was she?”

  None of her business. The words were there, tickling his tongue, ready to explode from his mouth. But he held back. He couldn’t tell her, wouldn’t tell her.

  “Shane.” Liza’s sweet whisper raked across his heart.

  He shook his head. “Don’t. I can’t.”

  She touched his bicep then ran her hand down the length of his arm. The caress sent ripples of pleasure through him, killing the pain, emotionally and physically. Yet it hurt him. Ripped him apart. He didn’t deserve the tenderness of a woman.

  “Tell me,” she said softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Reaching up, he brushed his knuckles along her jawline. Liza’s eyes shuttered, and he sensed her body melting under his touch. Twining a loose coil, he rubbed it between his fingers, delighting in the silkiness. Her eyes fluttered open, and she tilted her cheek into his hand. Releasing the lock, he cupped her cheek, smoothing his thumb over the high point. God, she was beautiful. Too damn beautiful for the likes of him.

  “I have never told anyone.” His voice sounded rusty to his ears. It made sense. The subject matter was old, ancient, and God knew he had no desire to unearth it. “What makes you privileged to know my darkest secrets?”

  She bent over him, her gorgeous umber eyes burning holes through his fortifications. “Is that what Cheyenne is? Your darkest secret?”

  “You don’t give up, do you?”

  “Not by a long shot.” Strands of her hair tickled his face, setting his blood on fire. Her breath feathered him as she leaned closer. “If I’m reading you right, you don’t, either. I’ll wager you that I’m the only woman in a very long time you’ve wanted to kiss.” She gave him a light press of her lips. “And a kiss can be a powerful motivator.”

  Every muscle in his body went rigid. Damn straight. His hand snaked around to the back of her head and dragged her to him, their lips colliding. She angled her mouth to his as she, she, deepened their kiss. She was turning him into a raging inferno. He wanted to feel every inch of her against him, to get a taste of the passion that smoldered inside of her.

  The bed shifted under him as she carefully crawled over him, never once breaking the kiss as she straddled him. He moaned against her mouth, his left hand skimming to her backside to cup the back of her thigh. With a gasp, she nipped his bottom lip. A stronger spark ignited as her tongue delved into his mouth.

  Son of a bitch, she was a tiger.

  As he slid his hands up her hips to her waist, they snuck under the hem of her shirt. When his fingertips grazed the sensitive skin of her lower back and stomach, she shuddered. Shane started to roll up the shirt and hissed in pain.

  Liza stilled, her mouth pulling back from him. “Oh no. Your wound.”

  Pain like fingernails being dug through his skin radiated out from the gunshot wound into the rest of his body, effectively dousing the desire and leaving him panting.

  She scrambled back, sighing when she was sitting at his side once more. “You’re not bleeding.”

  “It’s nothing,” he ground out.

  “Says the man speaking through clenched teeth.”

  “Physical pain I can handle.”

  “But emotional pain you can’t.”

  “I’m a man, Liza. We don’t show our king of hearts.”

  “So,” she rose from the bed, “is that the excuse you’re giving me to avoid explaining who Cheyenne was to you? That you have no heart?”

  Whoa! Wait one minute. How the hell did she get . . . ? Ah shit.

  With a shake of her head, she added, “Don’t answer that. I don’t want to know what’s going on in that head. And, honestly, if I were half the investigator I claim to be, I could piece together the truth on my own. Cheyenne was your fiancée, something tragic happened to her—I’m guessing she died—and now you’re left with only a bad memory and an empty engagement ring.” Liza’s eyes narrowed. “And if I could go a step further in my skills, I’d say you did a stint with the army—post 9/11—as a means to help eradicate her memory. Or maybe it was in the hope that you’d die so you wouldn’t have to live with the pain of her death.”

  Son of a bitch, it was like she’d reached inside his head and ripped out every twisted, dark memory he’d had.

  “Well, look at that. I must have hit the target somewhere close to the bull’s-eye.”

  “Liza, stop.”

  “Oh, believe me. I’m done.” As the curtain closed on her act, she exited his bedroom, the door shutting with a clap.

  This wasn’t over.

  After a few failed attempts—damn these stitches and his injured side to hell—Shane managed to roll out of the bed. Big mistake lying down. The recliner might be the smarter choice for sleeping arrangements until his side healed enough. With measured steps, he exited his bedroom and inched down the hall to find Liza in the kitchen.

  She was propped against the counter, munching on a frosted cherry Pop-Tart, the cabinet door to his stash wide open behind her. Her gaze narrowed as he entered the room. “You were ordered to rest. This isn’t you resting.”

  “Damn difficult when you keep poking your nose in my business and kissing me.”

  Liza’s face flamed a deep auburn. Gulping down a mouthful of his one and only luxury in life, she turned her back to him and closed the cabinet door. “I’m sorry about that. It just . . . happened.”

  Her defeated tone gave him a right hook to the chin. Giving his unruly hair a good rake with his fingers, he shuffled over to her. Shane gripped her elbow, tugging her around to face him. She couldn’t meet his gaze.

  “I’m not sorry you kissed me.”

  “You certainly don’t act like it.”

  “If I didn’t want to kiss you, I wouldn’t have let it get as far as it did.”

  Her skepticism permeated the air around them.

  “Fine, don’t believe me. But it doesn’t change what happened.” He reached up and cradled her face. “Listen to me carefully. My past is something that has been a part of me for so long, it’s hard to let anyone in. No one was to ever know. My parents were it, and with their deaths, my secrets remained with me alone.”

  She pulled his hands down, keeping a tight grip on his arms. “It must be lonely in that secret world of yours.”

  Weight pressed down on his shoulders. “Liza, the burden is mine to bear. Don’t try to shoulder my pack.”

  With a sad shake of her head, she released him and backed away. “What’s sad is that you think you deserve to be alone. And as one who spent a good chunk of her life alone and pissed off at the world, it freaking sucks, but not once did I think I deserved the lot life handed me. We make choices. It’s how we ride out the waves of consequences that determine what kind of person we are. You’re just standing in the surf taking the brutal forces and hoping like mad it doesn’t knock you off your feet again.”

  “Why is it so important for you to know?”

  She was about to answer when he brought his hands up.

  “Actually, don’t answer. We have different lives, and it’s not like this thing between us will go any further. Once you have your proof, you’ll return to your job and your family, and I’ll be here.” Shane turned, heading for his escape. “I shouldn’t have let it go as far as it did.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “You’re a foster kid. You should know nothing in life is ever fair.”

  She didn’t give him a chance to make good on his escape, skirting around him and blocking the doorway. “This isn’t a war. You don’t get to retreat after firing those parting shots.”

  “I do if I want to get some sleep. Doctor’s orders and all. I’d suggest you grab some shut-eye, too. You can have my bed. I’ll rack out in my recliner since I can’t seem to get out of bed easily.”

  “Shane.”

  “Liza, I hurt and I’m tired.”

  “Then sleep. I’m going into the department. Remember, I have a meeting with Roslin Avery.”

  Damn it, s
he was right. And he’d wanted to sit in on that conversation. “Can you reschedule so I can be there?”

  “No. You’re doing what the doctor ordered. I need to report to my SAC, and I’m not telling her I missed talking with Roslin, again. And I have a meeting with the school board president and school accountant.” She placed a hand on his chest, next to the dangling ring. “Holding onto her ghost is only making you more miserable. What would she have told you to do if she could see you now?” She gave him a gentle pat and pulled her hand away. “Think on that.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  McIntire County was growing on Liza. She grew more comfortable the longer she drove these backroads and streets. It was a nice feeling not to worry about getting lost. Driving with the windows down, she had her iPhone plugged into her system and her Eagles soundtrack was pouring through the speakers.

  Over the years, she’d taken serious tongue lashings from other people of color about her choice of music. It was as if they expected her to love only R&B, rap, or soul, styles that those of her race had created. Liza ignored the pressure. She couldn’t explain it in a way they’d ever understand. Something about the Eagles’s songs had resonated with her. It went deep, to her bones deep. And if she had to unpack it all, maybe it was something her birth parents had instilled in her. She didn’t know. What she did know was that through her years alone and bouncing from one home to the next, the music had been her one constant.

  She eased her car into the gravel lot for the sheriff’s department and parked in what she’d come to think of as her spot. Killing the engine, she gathered her things, shaking her head briefly when her tired eyes lost focus. She should have gotten a few zzzs before meeting with Roslin, but without knowing when the woman would arrive, Liza couldn’t afford to sleep.

  Composing herself, she exited the car and headed into the building. The ding of the electronic system announced her entry. As she bypassed the front counter, she halted.

  “What’s this?”

  From behind Jennings’s dispatch station, Shane’s three deputies eyeballed Liza. Jolie beckoned to her.

  “Agent Bartholomew, please join us.”

  They were all gathered in front of one computer. This can’t be good. Circling around, Liza was greeted by two faces she hadn’t expected to see on this trip.

  “Liza, dear, what sort of trouble are you stirring up in my new home?” Boyce Hunt’s southern drawl oozed charm.

  Liza pinned the deputies with a stern stare. “Does your boss know you’re tattling?”

  “No, he doesn’t,” Cassy said over the video chat, “and we need to keep it that way for now. Where is he, by the way?”

  “At home, sleeping, last I checked.”

  “You left him alone? He’ll be out of there the moment he has the all-clear.”

  Liza smirked. “Not likely, since I found all of his keys and took them with me.”

  Boyce scoffed. “You don’t know our illustrious sheriff, Liza. He’ll just saddle up and ride into town.”

  “You can’t be serious. He was shot in the side. There’s no way he’d be able to lift a saddle, much less climb into it.”

  “Don’t underestimate a determined man.” Cassy gave her husband a knowing look. “That’s beside the point. Jennings contacted me to update me on the situation there. And it seems we have a problem with chain of command.”

  Liza bent over, bracing her hands on the desktop. “Wouldn’t your department defer to the police chief?”

  Cassy’s gaze darted to the young woman next to Liza. Jolie Murdoch shrugged.

  “Not really,” Cassy said. “I’m the under-sheriff, and since I’m not there, I can’t take command of the office.”

  “Well, who would be next in line?”

  “That should be me,” Deacon Nash said, his hand shot up to halt anyone from speaking, “but I don’t have the experience.”

  “Which is where you come in, Agent Bartholomew.”

  “You can’t be serious? I’m not authorized to man a sheriff’s department.”

  “Actually, in this case, the district judge and I can grant you the authorization. With Hamilton injured and trouble going on there, we need someone to handle this. I can’t leave here, or I’m out of the K-9 program. In this case, you’re the most senior officer we have.”

  “Cassy, this has to be cleared with my office, and I know for a fact my SAC won’t allow it.”

  “Then tell Montrose to bring her happy ass down there to help,” Boyce said. “I always thought she lost her touch as a field agent when she sat behind a desk.”

  “Boyce, there’s no way she’d . . . scratch that. There’s no way I can nail this case if she’s here running things.”

  “Then take command.”

  Liza looked at each of the deputies surrounding her. “Is this what you want?”

  “Ma’am, we all have our places, and being in charge isn’t one of them,” Jennings said. “Sheriff Hamilton has done a bang-up job of giving us enough leeway to take charge of certain things on our own, but he’s not sheriff without reason. We need orders.”

  “He’s right, Liza.”

  So glad they have a vote of confidence in me. How was she supposed to do this and complete her investigation and get home to Quinn? The expectant faces peering at her were no help. She didn’t know the first thing about commanding people, much less how to run a sheriff’s department. Damn it, she was trying to get out of law enforcement, not get sucked further in.

  “Team, take five,” Cassy said.

  The deputies dispersed, leaving Liza as alone as one could get with a video chat over a computer.

  Cassy leaned closer to the screen. “Liza, listen, if I could, I’d be there in a heartbeat. I know this is not what you’re supposed to do. But I can’t ask Nic to take my place.”

  Nic! Why hadn’t Liza suggested her first? “Why not?”

  Cassy sighed. “First, she’s pregnant again. Second, she’s supposed to leave tomorrow with her mother-in-law to go on a trip to Ireland. Con doesn’t know that’s where they’re going, by the way, so keep this to yourself. Some kind of secret reason about going back home for something. I don’t know for sure.”

  “Okay. Wait, didn’t she just have a baby. Don’t those two know how that all works?”

  Boyce snorted, then gasped when his wife elbowed him in the ribs.

  “Nic is running out of time and they wanted a lot of kids. I know, I know, it doesn’t seem possible with her, but she’s found her niche as a mother. Hence why I don’t want her running things while I’m gone and Hamilton is laid up. Nic has to think about her kids, and she won’t let just anyone watch over them. Besides that, her mother-in-law would never let Nic back out of their trip so she could be sheriff for the day.”

  “You’re more than capable of handling this until Hamilton is able to resume his duties,” Boyce said.

  “I’m glad you both think so, but . . . ” God, should she tell them? Liza glanced about, finding the deputies thoroughly engrossed in whatever it was they were doing. She hunkered down, staring at the couple on the screen. “You two must be the bearers of secrets.” Liza shook her head. “After I wrap this case, I’m out. Done. No more FBI and no more law enforcement.”

  Boyce frowned. “Why? You’re a good agent.”

  “Glad you think so, but I have obligations of my own that I can’t keep pushing aside anymore. I have to finalize my findings here and get back to Cedar Rapids. I really can’t be here much longer. What about the former sheriff? Would he come in?”

  “He has too many health issues,” Cassy said. “Liza, I realize . . . ”

  The electronic bell chimed, and Liza didn’t hear the rest of what Cassy said. Peering over the top of the computer, she spotted Roslin. She ducked down. “Guys, I’ve got an interview to conduct. You should consider someone else.”

  Cassy checked her watch. “If I can find someone else.”

  “Hello?” came Roslin Avery’s voice.

  “Sor
ry, you two, gotta go. Later.” Liza killed the video feed and popped up. “Mrs. Avery.” She hustled around the counter as the deputies emerged.

  Roslin frowned. “Is the sheriff here?”

  “He’s out of the office this morning.”

  “Oh, I was supposed to meet with him. I guess I can come back later.” Roslin started to turn.

  “Wait, you were going to meet with me. The sheriff just set up the meeting.”

  Roslin blinked, confusion playing havoc on her features. “You?” She squinted. “You look familiar.”

  “Probably. I was . . . the one who tackled you at the fire.”

  “Yeah. Why did you do that?”

  Was this woman for real? “Because you were pointing a gun at the sheriff.”

  Roslin pressed her hand to her O-shaped mouth. “I didn’t.”

  She was for real. Or pulling off the perfect clueless act. Liza couldn’t get a good read on Roslin. If she got her to sit down and talk, maybe she’d figure the woman out.

  Liza stuck out her hand. “Agent Bartholomew, FBI.”

  “FBI? Why do you need to talk to me? I’m in big enough trouble for that fire.”

  “I’m aware of that. However, I wanted to ask about your husband, Gene.”

  “Whatever for?”

  Liza looked back at the milling deputies. “Deputy Murdoch, would it be okay to use the sheriff’s office?”

  Jolie shrugged. “Fine by us. Nash and I will be heading out to patrol. You need anything, Jennings will be here.”

  Shane’s office felt empty without his commanding presence. His scent, however, hung heavy in the air. Liza’s heart fluttered at the memory of his earthy scent surrounding her as they kissed. Banishing the sudden desire, she rounded his desk and took the chair, regretting her move when she was wrapped in more of Shane Hamilton.

  Focus, Liza!

  She found a pen and paper in the side drawers, along with an empty Pop-Tarts box. It appeared Shane was overdue for a restock. Liza did not touch the box of files she’d left in his office, noting that there was an extra banker’s box next to it. One of the deputies, probably Jennings, had brought in the warranted school files. She would have to scour those before she met with the school board officials.