Bed of Lies (The McRae's, Book 3 - Zach) (The McRae's Series)

by Teresa Hill

  "Drink some of this, while it's still hot." Rachel opened the bag and pulled out napkins, a stirring stick, artificial creamer and sugar, then a steaming cup.

  Julie grabbed a napkin and quickly blotted the moisture from the corners of her eyes, and then busied herself pouring sugar and creamer into her coffee. Rachel tactfully busied herself doing the same, and once Julie had had a few sips and thought she might live through the morning, she reached for a doughnut. After all, sugar was one of the finest comforts known to womankind.

  Which made her think of Zach's shirt, of smelling it, of how comforting that was to her. Which made her think of Zach without the shirt, in bed with her.

  "Zach told me everything," his mother said.

  Julie's jelly doughnut got stuck in her throat. She coughed once, then again, and Rachel looked concerned.

  "I'm fine," she managed to squeak out. No way he'd tell his mother about that. "Sorry," Rachel said. "He wanted me to know so that I could help."

  "Of course," Julie said.

  It was about Peter. She should be thinking about Peter, not Zach. He was the reason Julie was here. Not because she was running away from all her problems in Memphis. That little thought was nagging at her. That she wasn't being noble at all. She was running again, doing what she did best.

  "So, what can I tell you?" Rachel asked. "I really do want to help."

  Tell me how to stop running, she thought. Rachel didn't run. Her husband, Sam, didn't run. Zach didn't. They should teach that in school. Life 101: How Not to Run When Life Gets Tough.

  "I don't even know what I need to know," Julie admitted.

  Then it occurred to her that Rachel had been just down the block all these years. She must know so much more about what Peter's life had been like than Julie did. All she had to do was ask...

  "Has it been really bad for him here?" Julie began.

  Rachel didn't say anything right away. She seemed to be sorting through her thoughts, picking her words carefully. "Well, he didn't... come by the house as often as you did. And with our kids grown... Sam and I aren't as plugged into what's going on with the neighborhood kids as we used to be. But we saw him from time to time. I don't think much has changed in this house, Julie."

  "But Peter's their son."

  She had been only her mother's daughter, and she'd always known where that left her. Outside the loop. A nuisance, at best, always underfoot.

  Rachel's compassionate look told Julie that it hadn't mattered.

  "I thought... I mean, it was tough for me, but with him... They always treated him differently." Better. Not quite as bad. "I mean, I know it wasn't the perfect home, but they didn't come down on Peter the way they did..." On me.

  Rachel nodded, reminding her of Zach, with way too much understanding in those eyes.

  "I don't know for sure," Rachel said. "Peter doesn't really talk to me. It's just... from what I've seen, I'm guessing that he felt kind of... lost and lonely. I wish I'd done more for him—"

  "No. That's not what I meant. He's not... " Rachel's child. Or Rachel's brother. He wasn't her responsibility in any way.

  "Still," Rachel said, "I wish I had."

  Julie nodded. What could you say to people like that? The ones who tried to take care of kids who weren't even theirs. Or other ones who tried to take care of friends of their little sister. Or the parents of a man who had slept with you on a really bad night? This was something she just didn't understand.

  "I know you must have tried to help him," Julie said. "And I'm so glad you're here now. Now that I'm back."

  "I'm glad you were in Memphis for Zach."

  Julie went still, trying to gauge the look on Rachel's face.

  Finally Rachel said, "When the verdict in his trial came in."

  Julie nodded. Carefully, she said, "Zach took it hard."

  "He always does."

  "It happens a lot?" she asked, because she just couldn't see Zach losing often.

  "Any case he loses is one too many to him, and he takes the toughest ones he can find. He claims he does it for the sheer challenge in it, but—"

  "I don't believe that," Julie said.

  "Neither do I," Rachel agreed. "Grace said she told you their birth father got out of prison six months ago. Emma and Grace are okay, I think. Upset for a few days after they all went to see him, but okay. Zach insisted that he wasn't upset at all, but everything about the way he looked and the way he sounded told me he was. And he's hardly been home since."

  "What did the man say to him?" Julie asked.

  "I don't know. Did he talk to you about it?"

  "A little," Julie admitted.

  "I'm not going to ask you what he said. I'm just glad he talked to someone about it. I'm glad you were there when he needed someone."

  "I'm glad, too."

  To hell with everything else. He'd needed her, and she didn't want to think of what he might have done had he been alone. There. She'd almost managed to make it sound noble—sleeping with this other woman's fiancé.

  "I know how he seems to the world," Rachel said. "So strong, so self-sufficient and together... He doesn't let me take care of him very often, which I suppose is normal now that he's all grown up, but we all need someone at times."

  "I know." Julie needed more than most.

  "I want someone to be there for him, even when he doesn't know how much he needs someone."

  Julie nodded, ready to agree, and then remembered it wasn't her place. He had a fiancée. Maybe. Julie was supposed to stay away from him and not mess that up any more than they already had.

  "He's always been a good friend to me," she said, vague beyond belief considering, but she was talking to his mother. "I'd do anything for him."

  Okay, that definitely wasn't vague or noncommittal, but it was true. That counted for something, didn't it? She tried to backtrack quickly. "I mean... I'm sure he has a lot of friends who feel the same way. That if he ever needed anything..."

  "He won't ask, Julie. That's what I was trying to say. He won't ask for help."

  "Oh. Okay." So what was she supposed to do? If the situation were reversed, Zach wouldn't wait for her to ask for help. He'd just show up. Except she couldn't now. "He's in Memphis, and I have to be here. For Peter."

  "I know. But the penalty phase of the trial shouldn't last long. A few days, maybe. And after that, I want him home. I've told him that myself, when I can get him on the phone, but it's not doing any good. And then, after weeks of ducking my calls, he called me because he was worried about you. I was just thinking... He's a lot more comfortable taking care of others than having anyone take care of him. If he thought you needed him here..."

  "Oh." She got it now. She was supposed to play the helpless female to Zach's hero. She should be perfect for this role. She'd been practicing her whole life. No acting abilities required and no lies. All she had to do was tell him how she really felt. If she could get him here, then his family would take care of him.

  What was she supposed to do? Resist something she wanted very badly because she was afraid of what else might happen between them if he was here?

  It would not happen again. He didn't really want her. He'd just needed someone, and she'd been there. She firmly shut her ears to the little voice inside that insisted it had sure felt like he'd wanted her, despite the fact that he was supposed to be in love with someone else.

  Julie blurted out, "He's engaged, isn't he?"

  "Yes," Rachel said.

  "I just thought... " Julie began. "If he was in trouble, she'd be here."

  "She's busy with her father's campaign. And I'm being an interfering mother, which I try not to be. I just thought, if you asked, he might come home."

  "Well, I was just pitiful on the phone with him last night, if that helps."

  Rachel grinned. "There you go."

  "I guess if he gave me a chance, I could pour out my troubles to him again."

  Julie couldn't be happy that Rachel was so worried about him, but if this w
as where he needed to be...

  She'd never deny Zach anything when he was in need, and yet...

  Oh, it was crazy.

  She couldn't let herself want anything more than that one night. It was all she'd ever have of him.

  Chapter 10

  It took exactly forty-eight minutes for the jury to decide the fate of Tony Williams. Zach clocked it, pissed when it happened so quickly.

  Tony huddled like a child against Zach's side, while Zach put his arm around the boy and stared at the judicial seal on the wall above the jury box, his mouth clamped shut.

  Through the fog of his anger, his frustration and his fear, the verdict finally registered—life in prison. Relief was a hard emotion to let in, given the verdict, but it was life, and Zach didn't stop fighting once a verdict was in. He'd fight as long as there was hope of winning.

  They finished with the formalities. The guards were waiting to take Tony to prison for a long, long time. Zach should really say something. It's not over yet. Don't give up. Just try to stay alive in there. He would choke on the words.

  "Mr. McRae?" The bailiff was at his side. "Judge would like to see you in chambers. Now." That was odd.

  He looked back at Tony. The guards were hustling him away already. "I'll be back," Zach called out as he headed for the judge's chambers.

  It didn't take long. The judge didn't want him back in his courtroom anytime soon. That little tussle at the end, when they argued over how the judge would charge the jury, had been a bit ugly, and Zach probably had been out of line. He took the dressing down as best he could, nodding and trying to hold his tongue. But in the end, he just couldn't. He yelled, "You think that boy deserves to be in prison for the rest of his life?"

  "That's not for me to say, son, and you know it. That's for the jury."

  "He shouldn't have been charged with the crime in the first place."

  "Enough," the judge said. "You're lucky I didn't throw you in jail for contempt. If I hadn't known your boss for years, I may well have done it. I settled for calling him instead. Adam wants to see you in his office, first thing tomorrow. Which means you should be going, Mr. McRae."

  "Kicking me out of the state, judge?"

  "I could arrange a police escort until you board your plane. You've got to step back, son, or you're not going to be any good to any of your clients. You're sure not going to get anywhere pissing off judges."

  Zach opened his mouth to argue, but the judge cut in. "Enough. Go."

  So Zach went, all the way to Ohio. He collapsed that night in his own unfamiliar bed in the apartment on the river he and Gwen shared on rare times they were both in the same city.

  Bleary-eyed and still pissed early the next morning, he lost it with Adam, yelling and slamming his fist down on his boss's desk. Twenty minutes later, Zach was back on the street, his chest heaving. First he'd been ordered out of the State of Tennessee and now he'd been ordered not to show his face inside his own office for thirty days. When he'd argued about that, Adam made it sixty.

  What the hell was he supposed to do for sixty days?

  He took to the streets, walking fast, trying to burn off some restless energy, some tension, something that felt like despair. He didn't screw up like this. He didn't fall apart. He wasn't stupid or reckless. Yet within the space of a few days, he'd taken an old friend to bed while he was engaged to someone else, drank way too much and thrown things against a wall and lost a case that sent a young boy to prison for life. He'd been kicked out of a courtroom, and now he was suspended from his job.

  He had a hard time believing it all.

  Zach walked until he calmed down a little. He found it hard to be still these days, to make his mind be quiet. He didn't want time to think. He didn't like the direction his thoughts took, the tightness that came into his chest or the funny things that happened to his breathing when things got bad. Usually he could walk it out. If that didn't work... Well, he could always use his so-called father's tried-and-true method. A bottle of something. That had worked really well last time.

  His next impulse was to call Julie. It was right there, like a neon sign flashing on and off in his brain. Call Julie.

  No, he would not do that. He could call his father—the real one —but if his family knew he was this close to home, they'd descend en masse, and he just couldn't handle that now. He supposed he should call Gwen, just to see if she was at all interested in the fact that his life was falling apart.

  He glanced at his watch. Close to noon on a Tuesday?

  She is probably getting ready for a cocktail party. The idea moved through his head in a nasty little voice, a mean, petty one. As though he had a right to complain about the woman he'd thoroughly wronged so very recently.

  He searched his heart for what he felt for her. Where had it gone? They'd slid into a satisfying relationship, comfortable, compatible. He admired her body as much as her brain, her determination as much as her wit. They had made sense together.

  Why didn't they, anymore?

  He pulled out his phone, which had a calendar function. Gwen, one of the best-organized women on earth, did a linkup and fed her schedule into his, his into hers, once a week or so, so they could always find each other. He checked it now. She might actually be in town. He called campaign headquarters. They were expecting her today.

  Fine. Maybe he'd hide at the apartment and see her tonight. Maybe he'd have calmed down by then. He took a cab back to his office to get his car, then drove back to their apartment. When he unlocked the apartment door, he saw Gwen's coat draped over the back of the sofa, her purse and her keys on the table beside the door.

  Well, hell. No hiding here.

  He called out her name, but heard no response.

  Maybe she was asleep. She just crashed sometimes after coming in from a long trip.

  He thought he heard something in the bedroom, which was at the end of the hall, next to their his-and-hers offices. They'd gotten a three-bedroom so they'd both have space to work.

  Zach pushed open the bedroom door. It was dark in the room, and Gwen was in bed, leaning back against the pillows, a sheet wrapped around her, barely covering her breasts. Her hair looked mussed, and she seemed a little dazed.

  "Sorry," he said. "Didn't mean to wake you."

  "Zach? I didn't... I saw your things, but... What happened?"

  "I lost the case," he said. "It's over."

  "Oh." She just sat there for a minute, staring at him, and then glanced quickly toward the bathroom. "I thought you'd be at work..."

  "No, I..." He didn't want to explain. Not yet. And he was starting to get a funny feeling about this.

  Slowly, he turned toward the bathroom door. There, in the pool of light spilling from the opening, stood a guy he'd known for the better part of ten years. He was shoving his shirttails into the waistband of his slacks and looking like he expected to be knocked flat on his ass any minute.

  "Zach... I'm sorry," the guy began.

  Zach laughed. What could he do? It was so... cliché. The perfect ending to the perfect day.

  "I didn't... It didn't..."

  "Never mind." Zach knew what came next. I don't know how it happened. Or, It didn't mean a thing. Yeah, right.

  Gwen didn't say a word. She would have seen the suitcase he'd dropped by the front door late last night and known he was back in town. And she'd done this anyway. So she wanted him to find them together. Maybe she just didn't care anymore. He'd slept with someone else, and apparently, so had she.

  "You mind leaving us alone?" Zach asked, his voice dead even as he stared at Gwen.

  "What?" Dan asked.

  Zach took a breath and said, "We have some things to talk about. Gwen and I. Privately, if you don't mind."

  "If I don't mind?" Dan repeated.

  He supposed civility seemed out of place at the moment, unless one was in on all the little nuances of the situation. Maybe Dan didn't know about Zach's little fling.

  "Yeah, if you don't mind," Zach said. />
  Dan laughed nervously. "I thought you'd break my jaw or something."

  Zach shook his head. This was between him and Gwen.

  "I'm really sorry." Dan gathered up his socks and shoes, belt and keys, and hovered by the door. "You're not going to go off or something as soon as I walk out the door, are you?"

  "Nope," Zach said.

  "He doesn't care that much," Gwen added helpfully.

  Dan looked baffled. Finally, he gave up and left.

  Zach sat down in the chair by the antique dresser that had been in Gwen's family for about a hundred and fifty years, the dainty, lace-covered thing he'd nicked when they'd moved in, laughing and happy and thinking this was forever. Where had those feelings gone?

  He drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair for a minute and then stopped when the motion seemed too telling, too agitated.

  "So, this was about getting even?" he asked.

  "I'm not sure," Gwen said. "I think I just wanted to know what it felt like."

  "To have sex with Dan?"

  "To have sex with someone other than you," she said.

  "He just came to mind first?" Zach asked.

  She shrugged. "He always seemed... agreeable. I'd just never done anything about it before. Because I was engaged to you."

  As digs went, that certainly hit home. "So... how did it feel?"

  "Different. It felt... good. And exciting. And then it got kind of awkward and wrong, and then it was just... sad." Anger and remorse mingled on her face. "It made me sad. Sad for us, and sad for Dan, because I used him that way. And pretty soon I didn't feel much of anything. I didn't really like it, but I was the one who started the whole thing. So I just lay here and let it happen, hoping it would feel better at some point. But it didn't. Isn't that stupid? But I'll be damned if I'll be sorry for it. Not that I did it or that you caught us."

  "Okay." He could accept that. He could understand all of that. He couldn't argue a thing. It was his mess, first and foremost, not hers. She never would have done this if he hadn't done it first. So it didn't seem he had much to say except, "What now?"