Beautiful Liar

by Natasha Knight

  “What makes you think you’d give her a better life?”

  I turned to find he’d stood.

  “Does it matter to you? Really? This is us, Nick. Door’s closed. No one to hear the truth. Do you even love that little girl? Or was she nothing but a pawn in your destruction of me?”

  He didn’t answer, and I turned to go, knowing more than ever that Mel belonged with me. That I would give her the best possible life. That I would love her and raise her like she should be loved and raised.

  Nick didn’t come home that night. Neither did Dinah. Amelia and I picked Mel up from school. We had dinner at home, read and played, ate ice cream in front of the TV. Only at bedtime did she ask about her mother. Not Nick, though. Not once had she mentioned him.

  “Where’s mommy?”

  “I’m not sure, honey,” I answered honestly.

  “Probably at one of her dinners,” she mumbled. “She has a lot of dinners.”

  “I’ll make sure she comes in to give you a kiss as soon as she gets home, okay?”

  “Thanks, Uncle Slater.”

  I kissed her forehead and tucked her in. “Get some sleep now, okay?”

  “Yep.” She rolled onto her side to watch me go. When I reached the door, she stopped me. “Uncle Slater?”

  “Yes?”

  “Will you be here when I wake up?”

  “Of course. I would never leave without saying good-bye.”

  “You did once.”

  God. She remembered.

  I went and sat on the edge of her bed. “I’m so sorry about that, Mel. That was a bad time for me. We can talk about it tomorrow if you want, but I promise to never ever do it again. Cross my heart.”

  She nodded, the hallway light making her eyes shine as she watched me.

  “Good night, honey.”

  “Night.”

  I smoothed her hair and adjusted her blankets before leaving, closing her door but remaining in the hallway, just on the other side of it.

  “Slater?” Amelia whispered some minutes later. “You need to come downstairs.”

  “What’s going on?” She looked on the verge of tears, and when I approached, she just shook her head and wiped at her eyes.

  “That poor girl.”

  “What is it?” I asked, feeling like I had that day when the papers published the photos. Like the shit was about to hit the fan again.

  She didn’t answer, but I followed her downstairs. On the kitchen counter stood a large, official-looking manila envelope.

  “A courier just delivered it. It’s from Nick and Dinah’s attorney.”

  She then switched on the small television to CNN, where an image of the building that housed Bright Futures flashed across the screen.

  “For the second time in three years, controversy rocks Bright Futures.”

  I listened as a photo of Nick replaced that of the building, my ears drumming, hearing only words like bankruptcy, embezzlement, corruption. My own photo followed, an old one with Dinah, Mel, and me. Mel had been almost two years old then. When they began to recap what happened three years ago, flashing a photo of MacKayla and me, Amelia switched it off.

  “Open the envelope, Slater.”

  My cell phone rang. I pulled it out of my pocket, not surprised to see it was MacKayla. “Hello?”

  “Slater?”

  I could hear the tears in the way her voice broke.

  “It’s happening again.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. Are you?”

  “I don’t know yet.” I tore into the envelope and pulled out the sheets of paper. I recognized Dinah’s signature. The lawyer’s signature. Mel’s name. At the bottom, a sticky note written in a hurry by Dinah.

  I do love her. I do. I just love Nick more.

  That note was followed by one on the attorney’s letterhead. Actually, it wasn’t a note. Just a phone number. I recognized Aston Hoyt’s writing, and it made my stomach turn. He’d worked for my father once, but his loyalties went the way the money blew. He was no friend.

  “I can’t come back yet, MacKayla. I have to take care of things here with Mel.”

  “I understand. Slater, I’m not scared. I don’t care what people will think. I just want us to be together.”

  The house phone rang, and Amelia rushed to pick it up. She hung up almost immediately, then took the phone off the hook.

  “Reporters,” she said.

  “You have to go,” MacKayla said. “Janey’s here. We’re fine. We’re just fine.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  I called the number on the sheet of paper. Hoyt picked up on the second ring.

  “Slater Vaughn.”

  He always drawled my name out. He’d moved from South Carolina twenty years ago, but that drawl hadn’t faded one bit.

  “I knew this day would come.”

  “What the hell is going on, Hoyt?”

  “I imagine you’ve seen the news,” he said.

  “I’d rather you explained everything to me. You remember, I’m a little slow, like you once said.” At the time of my difficulties—his word, not mine—he’d been quick to distance himself from me. He’d worked with Bright Futures to get me gone and had set it up for Nick to steal it right out from under me.

  “The papers in front of you are custody papers. Dinah’s granted you full custody of Melody. I heard that was what you wanted.”

  “Why?”

  “She and Nick had a little trouble. Feds are looking for him, turns out. All she told me when she came in here was that they were taking a long-awaited getaway, just the two of them. All you need to do is sign on the dotted line and send the documents back to me.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “Attorney-client privilege. I can’t say.”

  “Of course you can’t. They’re gone? I’m not asking for me; I’m asking for Mel.”

  He sighed. “Dinah thought it best for you to handle things with the little girl.”

  The doorbell rang just then, and Amelia looked at it in surprise.

  “I imagine that’d be the feds,” Hoyt said. “Thought they’d be there by now. If you need an attorney…”

  “Fuck you, Hoyt.” I hung up the phone.

  Amelia went to answer the door, but I stopped her. “I’ll get it.” Hoyt was right. There on the stoop stood a man in a dark suit. Behind him two others waited in the driveway.

  “Slater Vaughn?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m Robert Johnson, FBI.” He held out his credentials. “I understand this is the primary residence of Nick and Dinah Carlton?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “We have a warrant to search the premises.”

  “What’s going on, exactly?”

  He ignored my question. “And we’ve got some questions for you. May we come in?”

  “Can this wait until morning? I have a five-year-old sleeping upstairs.”

  “Uncle Slater?”

  Amelia and I both turned. “What are you doing out of bed, honey?” Amelia started toward the stairs and took her hand.

  “It’s okay, Mel. Go back to bed, honey.”

  “Where’s my mommy?”

  “Come on, now, you’re going to be exhausted for preschool tomorrow.”

  Amelia picked her up and carried her up to her room. For as long as she could, Mel held my gaze, her eyes worried, afraid. Johnson cleared his throat. I returned my attention to him.

  “May we come in?”

  I stepped aside. Johnson signaled to the others to enter.

  “Study?” he asked.

  I pointed. “I need to go upstairs and talk to her. What am I telling her about her mother?” I still refused to call Nick her father. I just couldn’t. Johnson’s face didn’t give anything away, but I imagined most FBI agents mastered that look.

  “I don’t know, Mr. Vaughn. Our agents are looking for Mr. and Mrs. Carlton now. Actually, we were hoping you could help us wi
th that particular question.”

  I got ready to close the door, but a dark van suddenly pulled up. Four more agents got out and entered the house. They barely greeted me with a nod.

  “Go see your little girl,” he said as one of the agents carried a computer from the house out to the van. “I’ll be waiting here when you’re finished.”

  I CONSIDERED CALLING Amanda and asking her to cover the store for me the next morning. I also considered calling Mrs. Donnelly and flat-out quitting, so I could hide beneath the bedcovers until this passed. It was happening all over again. The same thing, the same exact thing.

  “You okay?” Janey asked me when I came downstairs and poured myself a cup of coffee.

  “I will be. I just can’t believe it.”

  CNN flashed the events of the night before across the screen in the living room, the sound muted. Sadie ate a bowl of Cheerios at the kitchen table. Janey and I sat on the couch and turned up the volume.

  Nora Wilson, the reporter who’d interviewed me about my relationship with Slater—to whom I’d lied through my teeth, fabricating the story—reported. Seeing her made my stomach turn, and, even more so, it embarrassed me. The past had just caught up with me.

  “Nick Carlton is wanted by the police as a person of interest in an ongoing FBI investigation. Carlton, CEO of Bright Futures, recently accepted funds from the Ames Group of Atlanta, Georgia.”

  The other reporter then came on. “Bartholomew Ames was arrested yesterday afternoon—” They cut to the image of a large man being led out of a building in handcuffs. “And the charges against him range from racketeering to embezzlement—”

  “From the charity of which he is CEO,” the other reporter cut in.

  “That’s right, Nora. There’s even talk of money laundering, using donations to Bright Futures as a front.”

  “And this is where Nick Carlton comes in. If you remember, three years ago Carlton was appointed CEO of Bright Futures following the scandal where then Senator Slater Vaughn, the grandson of the man who’d started the charity, was asked to resign his seat on the board of directors after photos of an illicit affair with MacKayla Simone were made public.”

  I stood and switched the TV off. I didn’t need to see those images again.

  My stomach churned. I dumped the coffee I hadn’t even sipped down the kitchen sink.

  “You don’t have to go into work if you don’t want to,” Janey said.

  I shook my head and grabbed my coat. “I do. Unless I want it to chase me out of this town too. This and every other town. What a mess.” I picked up my keys and purse.

  Janey stood before me and took my shoulders. “You’re stronger than this. You’re better than this. You made a mistake, Mac. You were barely eighteen and in a desperate situation.”

  I smiled and hugged her. “I’m okay, I really am. I wish it hadn’t happened, that it wasn’t all over the news, but I’m okay, sis. I’m stronger than I was then.”

  “I know.”

  “You too,” I said, looking her over. “You ready for your meeting?” Janey had arranged to meet with a female detective later today to tell her story. After work, I was going to give her a ride to the station and watch Sadie while she did what she needed to do. I wanted to be with her, but she insisted she needed to do it alone. To take responsibility of this horrible thing that had happened to her, to own it, to conquer it. To take back the power it had stolen from her. Bill would be charged with the crime this afternoon.

  Janey took a deep breath in and straightened her back. “Yep. I’m more than ready. It’s long overdue, Mac.”

  I hugged her again. I just needed to remember how much courage it would take her to do this. To say this aloud to another person. It was certainly more than I had to go through with looks and whispers behind my back.

  “I’d better go, or I’ll be late.”

  “Bye, Aunt Mac,” Sadie said from her new highchair. The Cheerio stuck to her chin made us both smile.

  “Bye, honey. I’ll see you later. I’m thinking ice cream and a walk on the beach, so dress warm.”

  “Ice cream!”

  “Thanks!” Janey said, mock laughing. “She’ll be asking me every other minute if it’s time for ice cream yet.”

  “It’s an aunt’s privilege.” I tried to smile.

  “Go.”

  I did, the butterflies in my stomach multiplying as I drove onto the street. I noticed Lydia’s car in her driveway. She was back from her vacation. I wondered if she’d seen the news yet.

  At the bookstore, I put premade cookies into the oven, turned on the espresso machine, and emptied the dishwasher. I then took care of the few notes Amanda had left me, opened the shop, and waited. I expected Mrs. Donnelly but was still startled when she walked in the front door.

  “Good morning, honey,” she said, sliding off her coat and hanging it on the rack.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Donnelly,” I said, not sure what to expect, knowing she had most likely seen the news. She was addicted to CNN. Every time I’d been to her house, the TV ran in the background, recycling the same news stories every fifteen minutes.

  She walked behind the counter and looked at me for a long moment before wrapping her arms around me in a big hug.

  “You know I knew all along, right?”

  She rubbed my back when I sniffled. “You did?”

  “Of course, honey. I’m not that old, am I?”

  “No,” I said, pulling back and looking into her thoughtful eyes. “Why did you give me the job, then?”

  “You think you’re the only one who’s ever made a mistake?” She snorted. “Honey, I wasn’t always an eighty-year-old woman.” She winked at me. “Let’s have coffee, and I’ll tell you some stories that will make yours pale in comparison!”

  It was my turn to hug her. “Thank you, Mrs. Donnelly. Thank you so much.”

  After coffee and our talk, Mrs. Donnelly left. Lydia walked in, looking tanned and relaxed and absolutely glowing.

  “I had the most amazing vacation!” She beamed at me, tossing her purse on the counter. She came around and gave me a huge hug. “Amazing!”

  “Well, you look amazing.” I hugged her back.

  “Thank you, dear,” she said, releasing me to look me over from head to toe. “You…” she shook her head, “don’t look so amazing. What’s going on? You okay?”

  “When did you get in?” Hadn’t she seen the news yet?

  “After two in the morning. Damn airline’s always delayed,” she said with a wink.

  “So you haven’t seen the news, I take it?”

  She shook her head. “You know I don’t bother watching the news. It only depresses me.”

  “Well, how about coffee, then? Or a few. This’ll take some time.”

  “You’re making me nervous. You okay?”

  I thought about that. “You know what? I am. I am okay.”

  I told Lydia the story, all of it, starting from meeting Nick at the bar where I had worked to Janey, to Slater, and back again to Nick. She listened without interruption, her expression never changing, just hearing my story, my confession.

  “So Slater came to find you.”

  I nodded.

  “And you’re together now?”

  I nodded again. “Not sure how that happened. It was the farthest thing from my mind and from his. Are you mad I lied to you?”

  “You had good reason. I love you, honey. I don’t care what you’ve done in the past. I know you. Your real last name doesn’t matter. None of it does. You’re a good person, Mac, a good friend. That’s all.”

  “Thanks, Lydia.” Tears warmed my eyes. “You don’t know how much that means to me.” I cried, and she got up to bring some napkins back.

  “I’m glad Zeus was there last night. You should consider getting a dog too, you know? I know things are mostly safe here, but you never know. How’s your sister doing?”

  “Janey’s tough. Today will be a big day for her on so many levels. You now, after that,
there won’t be any more secrets. Everything will be out in the open. I always thought I’d feel ashamed, but all I feel is relief.”

  “So what’s going on now with Nick Carlton?”

  “I’m not sure. Let’s get online.”

  We had a laptop at the register I used for bookkeeping and processing orders. I brought it over to the café and logged on to read the headlines. Although most news channels reported on the photos of Slater and me at some point during their reports, the focus had now turned on Nick and this Bartholomew Ames. Nick and Dinah seemed to have disappeared off the face of the earth. No flight records, no credit-card charges, nothing. The Bright Futures spokesperson gave a comment, distancing the company from any transactions Nick had made with Ames or his association and mentioned that they were cooperating with the FBI’s investigation. A news reporter then came on to report on the speculation that Nick Carlton had stolen millions of dollars from Bright Futures and that the charity might have to close its doors in light of this second, and worse, scandal.

  “Wow, this is insane,” Lydia said.

  “What time is it?” I asked, checking my watch. It was almost noon. “I’m going to call Slater, see what’s going on.” But just as I said it, my cell phone rang from inside my purse on the counter. I ran to answer it while Lydia scrolled to another article. “Hello?”

  “MacKayla, it’s me.”

  “Slater! How are you doing? I’m watching the reports…”

  “Sorry it’s taken me so long to call you. Had the FBI at the house grilling me until they figured out I don’t know nothing. They just left. Assholes.”

  “Why are they questioning you? What could you know?”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “You sound tired.”

  He sighed. “I’ve been up all night. You saw Dinah and Nick are gone?”

  I nodded, but he couldn’t see me. “Yes.”

  “Well, they left Mel behind.”