Deadly Lies

by Chris Patchell

  Pushing through the door to her office and tossing her laptop bag into a chair, Jill paused to stare sightlessly out the window. Dana Evans. Surely Jamie would at least have the balls to tell her in person it was over. Maybe that was what he was planning to do last night before he lost his nerve. Or got busy, so to speak. She slammed the cup down on her desk and contemplated her next move.

  Jamie valued his career above all else—savoring the position and power it offered him. Given his broad sphere of influence within the company, there really was only one sure way to bring him down. A harassment claim would bring his grandiose plans screeching to a halt and quite possibly end his career at ZyraNet. But how safe was it to make those types of allegations? What was her exposure?

  Jill sat contemplating the question when a brief knock sounded on her office door. She glanced up and her heart took a painful stutter step. Jamie’s appearance was as unexpected as it was unwelcome.

  “Got a minute?”

  Jill forced a smile.

  “For you? Of course.”

  Jamie closed the office door. Strolling to the window, he propped casually against the desk, hands stuffed casually in his pockets. Tension coiled in Jill like a spring as she waited for him to speak.

  “I’m sorry about last night.”

  “Meeting ran late?”

  “Right, you know how those meetings go. Once you start digging into the squishy details, they drag on and on.” His smile was meant to be disarming, but the intended effect was lost on her.

  “Really? Where was the meeting?”

  “Here of course. Why?” Jamie widened his stance. His leg brushed Jill’s knee, and she rolled back, breaking contact between them.

  “Funny, I was working late, too, and I didn’t see your car.”

  Jill cocked her head as she watched him, wondering if he was planning to lie his way out of the situation or simply stretch the truth, whatever that was.

  “You must have missed it. I parked on the other side of the building.”

  “Really?” She stared at him. Anger burned through her patience, and she decided to cut to the chase. “Look, why don’t you save me the bullshit story about how the dog ate your homework and just tell me what is going on.”

  Jamie’s eyes widened in surprise, and then his expression turned cold.

  “Oh, poor Jill,” he said, in a mocking tone. “Did you wait long at the restaurant all by your lonesome?”

  “Fuck you.” The words were out before she could stop them, and for a second, she saw a chilly smile touch his lips. In a flash it was gone, and his expression grew stern.

  “Lower your voice,” Jamie commanded. “You would do well to remember that you still report to me, and that there’s more at stake here than a half-rate affair.”

  “Are you threatening me?” His words stung, and her anger turned colder, darker. She eyed him with the deadly focus of a cobra.

  “Do I need to?” he asked.

  She sensed a power shift between them as he regained the upper hand. He leaned back, a smug smile on his face. He let the words settle between them, pregnant with meaning. Their eyes clashed as he shrugged his shoulders.

  “You’re a smart girl, Jillian. Smart enough to know that this is not a game you want to play. Make no mistake about it, you will lose.”

  Jill crossed her legs. She struggled to control her anger. He’d used her. He’d lied to her. If he was just honest about things, well ... she might still hate him, but she could respect him a whole lot more. But lying and stringing her along was a cowardly thing to do.

  She had to think. Her next move had to be smart.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure you hold all the cards.”

  “Really? What do you think you have?”

  His expression was a perfect blend of amusement and contempt. It made Jill’s blood boil. It took all of her self-control not to lash out at him but rather to play it cool.

  “How do you think HR would respond to a story about a senior manager using his position to pressure a female reporting to him into a compromising position?”

  Jill remembered her conversation with Rachael and Rachael’s insinuations about Jamie’s reputation. Jamie’s stoic expression faltered, and anger burned in his blue eyes.

  “That’s a load of bullocks, and we both know it.”

  A slow, satisfied smile spread across Jill’s face. Her blow had landed a direct hit where he was most vulnerable. If all Jamie cared about was his fucking job, he wouldn’t want to risk it over an office affair.

  “Prove it,” she said. “Who do you think most people would believe? Me, or you?”

  “I’d be careful about what you say and to whom. Your career may depend on it.”

  His voice was dangerously quiet, and he paused, choosing his next words carefully.

  “You may think that you control this situation, Jillian, but trust me when I say that your hand isn’t nearly as good as you think it is. Besides, you’ve got more to lose than just your job. I wonder what your husband would think if he knew the truth.”

  A stab of fear pierced Jill’s cool composure, and she stiffened.

  “You wouldn’t dare tell Alex. Admitting the affair will damage your career more than mine,” Jill said. “Forcing me into a sexual relationship would not only get you fired, but would also destroy any prospects you have for climbing the corporate ladder. For me, it would be an unfortunate situation that I need to put behind me. The company might be worried I’d sue for sexual harassment. Thanks to you, I’ve got a pretty good reputation here. I’m a married woman. No one has any cause to question my integrity. Can you say the same?”

  She gave a light shrug of her shoulders. “I’m willing to take my chances and see what happens. Are you?”

  “Right. We’ll see who has the stronger hand.”

  He pushed away from the desk and walked toward her, stopping mere inches away. His back was to the door, shielding them from view.

  Jamie’s fingers reached up and touched her face. Slowly he traced the line of her jaw, down her throat, lingering on the jagged scar, his expression softening. She could feel his warm breath fan her cheek. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled at the contact.

  “It doesn’t have to be like this, Jill.”

  His face inclined toward her ever so slowly. The scent of his cologne filled her head—leather and spice. She tried to hold steady, breathe evenly, maintain eye contact despite the revulsion she now felt at his touch.

  As the seconds clicked by, her instincts overcame her control, and she flinched away. His hand dropped to his side, and a knowing smile twisted Jamie’s lips as he pulled away from her. Without another word, he left the office.

  She could feel her skin burn with a deep flush as he closed the door behind him. Releasing a ragged breath, she stared at the open office door, struggling to regain her composure.

  This was no longer about Dana Evans. This wasn’t about the review meeting or their affair. This was something more. He had threatened her job and her marriage. She had the weekend at home to plan what to do next. Perhaps the distance would provide the perspective she currently lacked. There was one thing she was certain of: playing the harassment card was risky, for both of them. But in the end, it might be her only way to get the upper hand.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “Wow, that looks good.”

  Alex crossed the kitchen and stood behind Jill, who was stirring the bubbling sauce on the stove. The scent of the apples and raisins cooking in a spiced brown-sugar-and-butter sauce filled the room. His hands rested lightly on her waist, cheek ruffling her hair.

  “I hope it is good. First time with a new recipe.”

  She stepped away and crossed the kitchen to open the refrigerator. The last thing she wanted tonight was a dinner party. But it was Alex’s family, so she had to play the part of the hostess. The best she could hope for was to tune out and enjoy the wine. Man, she could use a drink.

  Jill fished an armful of vegetables out of t
he fridge and deposited them on the island’s granite countertop. Deftly peeling an onion, she started to chop. Alex poured her a glass of wine, and she glanced up to catch him watching her.

  “We haven’t had much chance to talk since you got home. How was your trip?”

  The knife stilled as Jill paused long enough to look up at him.

  “It could have been better.”

  “Why, what happened?”

  “Jamie wasn’t very happy with the state of the project, and voiced his displeasure with me in particular in front of the team.”

  “Why would he do that? Why wouldn’t he save his criticism for a private conversation?”

  “Who knows?” The knife resumed its steady rhythm. “There’s a lot riding on the success of the project.”

  “Still, why would he single you out publicly? I can think of many ways he could get his point across without undermining your leadership in front of the team.”

  Jill released an exasperated sigh.

  “Damn it, Alex, I don’t know—because he’s an asshole. Can you stop playing the detective for one night?” The knife slipped and sliced easily through the pad of her index finger. “Shit.”

  She dropped the knife and raised her hand to examine the cut. Alex’s glass clinked on the countertop, and in no time he led her across the kitchen to the sink. A hiss escaped her lips as he held her hand under some cold water, the sting of the water burning.

  Alex handed her a paper towel, and she applied some pressure to the cut as the doorbell rang. A quick glance at the clock confirmed her suspicion.

  “They’re early.”

  “I’ll get it.”

  Molly, their yellow Labrador, followed Alex out of the kitchen, her gait fast, toenails clicking on the floor. Voices filled the breezeway, and she could hear the footsteps approaching down the hallway. Jill had time to bandage the cut before they stepped through the doorway.

  “Something smells great,” Mike said. He stopped and sniffed his shirt. “Oh, it’s me.” He stooped to kiss Jill’s cheek. “Hey, hey, Good-Looking, what you got cooking?”

  Jill straightened, her smile tight as she met her brother-in law’s gaze. His big frame fit his bigger-than-life personality. Dark hair and hazel eyes. His ruddy complexion spoke of long hours spent outside. His wife, Emma, seemed to float like a fairy at his elbow, his bulk making her seem all the more petite. Blond curls framed her heart-shaped face.

  “Pork chops and corn pudding.”

  “Corn pudding. Sounds southern.”

  “It’s kind of a soufflé,” she shrugged, taking a sip of her wine.

  “Getting all fancy-fancy on us.” Mike turned toward Alex. “Well, I’m going to get all blue-collar on you and start with a beer.”

  “Coming right up.” Alex handed Mike a bottle and Emma a glass of wine.

  “Anything I can do to help, Jill?” Emma asked, smiling a gracious thank you at Alex. She took a tiny sip from her wine glass and then placed it on the island.

  “Got it all under control. Maybe you and Mike could help Alex pick out some music. Otherwise we’ll be listening to ’80s metal all night long.”

  Alone in the kitchen once more, Jill turned toward the window and sipped her wine. Her ghosted image reflected in the dark pane. Despite her cleverly applied makeup, she could see how drawn her face looked. The long week in San Jose had taken its toll. Even the punishing morning run along Alki Beach hadn’t done much to get Jamie out of her head. The threat he posed to her career felt all too real.

  There had to be a way to neutralize him, but she didn’t know what it was. Not yet. The latest update from her team did not offer any hope of resolving the performance issues. Despite the thorough review of all new code in the project, the team hadn’t pinpointed the source of the problem.

  “How was your trip to California?” Emma asked from the doorway. Jill jumped at the sound of her voice, so deep in her own thoughts that she had not heard her sister-in-law enter the room. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “I need to switch to decaf,” Jill said, forcing a crooked smile. “Would you mind putting this on the table?” She handed Emma the salad bowl.

  “Looks great. You’re such a good cook. Did your mom teach you?”

  Jill tried not to cringe at the question. Her mom had died in the car accident that also claimed her brother’s life. No time for cooking lessons. Not that she had shared that information with Alex’s family. As much as she had once yearned to be part of their family circle, familial comfort didn’t come naturally to her, and sharing wasn’t exactly her forte.

  “I waited tables in college. Learned a thing or two working in the kitchen.”

  “I’m a whiz with pasta—everything else …” Emma trailed off, her blue eyes twinkling in her pixie face. Jill knew she should like Emma. Everyone did. Her open, friendly manner made her easy to talk to, but Jill didn’t find it easy to connect. The shell she’d built around herself was formed early, and few were able to penetrate her defenses.

  “I don’t know how you find time to cook at all with your crazy schedule,” Jill said as she served the plates. Emma was a crime reporter with the Seattle Times. There seemed to be no shortage of stories to cover. Bad news abounds.

  As they settled around the table, conversation steered toward current events.

  “Any news on the Watson case?” Emma asked Alex. “Strictly off the record.”

  “No,” he said, staring at his glass. Jill frowned, realizing that she hadn’t asked him a single thing about the case since she got back from San Jose.

  “How are the Watsons holding up?” Mike asked.

  “It’s been tough.” Alex took a sip of his wine, and his gaze shifted to Emma.

  “You’re sure she didn’t just take off? Kids do that sometimes. It’s scary, really. They have no idea what they’re getting themselves into.”

  “It doesn’t look that way.”

  “Is Jackson on the case?” Mike asked, his eyes settling on his brother.

  “He’s the lead investigator. I’m helping out.”

  “And why is that, Alex?” Jill asked, unable to stop herself. All eyes turned toward her. Alex was the first to look away. He studied his wine glass for a second before answering.

  “Because there is an online angle to the case. That falls directly within my purview.”

  “She met someone, and you think that maybe this person was responsible for her disappearance?” Emma asked, then held up a hand. “Sorry. Occupational hazard.”

  Alex didn’t answer, and Jill couldn’t let it go.

  “Oh, an internet connection, is that it?” Jill nodded slowly, her voice betraying her skepticism. While there may well have been an online angle to the case, she would be willing to bet money that Alex wouldn’t step away from the investigation and let Jackson do his job. He would find a way to stay involved.

  “And what do you mean by that, Jill?” Mike asked, his tone cutting through the tension like a whip.

  “Nothing.”

  “Right,” her brother-in-law scoffed under his breath.

  “Mike,” Emma said, quietly placing a hand on his arm. Mike jerked it away.

  “I suppose, like everyone else, you think that Alex needs to rush to Abby’s rescue?” Jill fixed her gaze on Mike.

  “Jill.”

  She recognized the warning in Alex’s tone but barreled ahead.

  “Seriously, Mike, there’s a whole missing person’s unit available to look into Natalie Watson’s disappearance. Jackson is a very capable investigator. Why do you think Alex needs to be involved?”

  “Jill,” Alex repeated, louder this time.

  Second warning.

  She turned toward Alex.

  “Seriously, why don’t we all just admit that if this wasn’t Abby’s sister, you would have passed the case on already? In fact, you wouldn’t have been involved in the first place. You’re still looking into it because of your relationship with Abby.”

  “Of co
urse he is,” Mike said, his face reddening. “Alex has known the Watson family since we were teenagers. Something awful like this happens, and you expect him not to care, not to want to help?”

  “Is that what this is about?” Jill asked quietly, a cynical smile stretching across her lips.

  She stood quickly and set her plate on the kitchen counter, her gaze shifting to each of them in turn. Emma looked embarrassed. Mike looked angry. And Alex refused to meet her stare.

  No one said anything for a long, tense moment. To Jill, the answer was obvious.

  “Coffee?” Alex asked at last.

  Long after their guests had departed, Jill stood at the sink, her hands in the hot, soapy dishwater. She could see Alex reflected in the window as he finished clearing the dinner table. He had not said a word to her since Mike and Emma left. Jill scrubbed the large skillet in silence. Molly’s long nails clicked on the kitchen floor as she circled the island, tail wagging. Jill felt the dog brush up against her leg.

  “Damn it, Molly, go lie down.” Jill snapped her fingers and pointed toward the doorway. “Go.”

  Jill watched as Molly slunk out of the room, her head hung low. Turning back toward the sink, she couldn’t avoid Alex’s disapproving stare.

  “What?”

  “What is wrong with you?”

  “What? I’m tired of her begging. You’d think we never feed her.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about, Jill.”

  “This really isn’t the right time.” She held her hand up, like a traffic cop.

  “Unfortunately there is never a right time with you.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She dropped the skillet back into the soapy water and spun toward him. Her eyebrows were drawn close together in a deep frown.

  “You want to talk? Let’s talk.”

  “Forget it. We’ve been drinking. You know the rules. We should wait until tomorrow.”