Liar, Liar, Heart's Desire

by Suzie Quint

  But Alec hadn’t mentioned seeing Martin, and he’d been fine until he’d made that call.

  That didn’t completely rule out the possibility that Alec was on to her. Jackson might have made a random comment that played off something Alec already knew and gotten his mind going down paths she didn’t want him traveling.

  Part of her knew she was overreacting. Another part told her it was a valid worry. The trouble was, she couldn’t tell if that second voice was instinct or a guilty conscience.

  Maybe the best thing she could do was to give him something new to think about, and it so happened that she already had something she wanted to discuss.

  When he came out of the bathroom, she let the book fall to her lap. “I still want to get into Sebastian’s office if I can.”

  “You think you need to?” Alec asked absently as he hung up the Dockers he’d worn that day.

  “I don’t know. Maybe not. What I’d really like is to get into his suite, but that’ll be harder.”

  “Yeah, it would.” Standing on his side of the bed with his back to her, he shucked his pants.

  Nice tan lines, she thought.

  “You still think Annaliese’s marker is that important?” he asked as he got into bed.

  She sighed, wishing the show had lasted a little longer. “I want to cover my bases. I need to know I did everything I could, in case we can’t get the cops interested in Liz.”

  “They’ll be interested,” he said, fluffing his pillow. “She’s the wife. They’re always interested in the wife. They just need a prod.”

  He was the one who needed a prod. Or maybe that was her.

  “But what if they can’t get enough proof?” She set the book on her nightstand. “They’ve already got the circumstantial proof to arrest Annaliese, and they’re not going to like looking like they arrested the wrong person.”

  “No. They don’t tend to like that,” he said as he arranged the pillow behind him and laid down.

  “Alec, please help me with this.”

  After a long moment of silence, he said, “All right. I’m sure I can find an excuse to visit Bales’ office before the memorial.”

  He still wasn’t engaged, but at least she’d gotten his promise to help her. Maybe that was good enough.

  It was going to have to be, she realized, when he flipped the light off on his side of the bed and rolled to face away from her.

  ~***~

  To Cleo’s relief, Alec was more like himself the next morning. Still a little reserved, but willing to have an actual conversation before he left for Annaliese’s bail hearing.

  She’d vaguely hoped Danny Bonner would call to tell her Annaliese had changed her mind and wanted to see her, but the phone had been stubbornly silent.

  It was probably just as well. Even though the media wouldn’t be heavily represented because bail hearings weren’t terribly interesting, it would only take one person to see her there and put two and two together. If they figured out she had a personal connection to Annaliese, the resulting attention would mean she could kiss any ideas about covert actions goodbye.

  Even knowing that, she couldn’t sit still. The longer Alec was gone, the more she worried that they’d refuse to set bail. She got so bad that Jada, hunched over her puzzle on the dining room table, actually barked at her to stop circling the condo. When she couldn’t, Jada decamped to sunbathe on the patio.

  When Alec walked in a couple of hours later, Cleo pounced. “Did they set bail? How bad is it? Why didn’t you call me? You know I’ve been on pins and needles.”

  “Sorry, but I wanted to see your face when you heard that Annaliese’s lawyer got them to agree to a half-a-million dollars bail.”

  Cleo gasped. That was half what she’d expected. Not that she had that kind of money, but it made it more likely that the tabloid would pony up.

  “Her lawyer did a good job,” Alec said. “He emphasized her ties to the community, so she wouldn’t look like a flight risk, but the judge still could have quashed it.”

  Cleo danced a few steps in a tight circle, not caring how she looked, then threw her arms around his neck and gave him a quick kiss. “I forgive you for not calling. Even though I shouldn’t.”

  He grinned back at her, his hands light on her waist. “And that’s why I didn’t call. I didn’t want to miss the celebration.”

  She did feel like celebrating. A bottle of wine maybe? And Fourth of July fireworks.

  “I imagine the lawyer will be calling soon. Why don’t you go vulture over your phone. I need to let Nigel know the good news.”

  “How long will it take them to make bail?”

  “Probably a few days to make the formal offer. Our legal department’s done this sort of thing before, but they still go over everything before they okay it. Once Annaliese accepts, it should happen pretty fast.”

  Cleo set her phone on the kitchen counter and willed it to ring as Alec made his call from the living room.

  Her patience wasn’t up to the task of waiting, however, and within five minutes, she broke down and dialed Danny Bonner’s number, catching him in his car on his way back to his office. He confirmed what Alec had told her, but when she broke the news about the paper providing the bail money, he cautioned her not to get her hopes too high. There would be numerous restrictions on what Annaliese could tell them before the trial was over. Cleo figured he was exercising prudence. The tabloid surely understood the limitations; as Alec had said, they’d done this sort of thing before. She hung up with her spirits high and opened a bottle of wine.

  “The wheels are in motion,” Alec said when she carried two glasses of red wine into the living room and sat beside him on the couch.

  They clinked glasses and each took a sip. She let the fruity taste rest on her tongue for a moment. “I’ve been thinking about your visit to Bales’ office,” she said. “We need to find someplace that sells those magnets.”

  “Already done. I stopped at a school supply store after the hearing.”

  “Great.” She should have known he’d be on top of that. “And how do you plan to slap them over the locks with Bales there watching you?”

  “I figured I’d point behind her and say, ‘Is that Elvis?’” He pointed as he spoke, his face taking on an expression of awe and excitement. “And then when she turns to look―” He made a slapping gesture.

  “Ha, ha. Very funny.” Cleo set her glass on the end table. “What you really need is something to distract her. Something real.”

  “You’d be a good distraction.”

  “Too good. I seem to create fireworks wherever I go. And what if she heard about the fight with Liz? What if Liz told her we’re partners? No, you’re going to need help, but it can’t be me.”

  “Got any suggestions?”

  “I was thinking . . . maybe you could coordinate some kind of interruption with Willa?”

  Alec shot her a look that questioned her sanity.

  So it wasn’t a great idea, but who else was there? “I’d rather not tell anyone what we’re up to, but I don’t see a way around it. She already knows we’re digging hard on this story. We won’t have to explain why it’s so important to us.”

  Alec shook his head. “I don’t like it. I know she’s been helpful, but she was still here when Sebastian died. In the casino.”

  Cleo grimaced. “You don’t think she killed Sebastian, do you? I mean, I believe what she said about not being involved with Sebastian, and you’re probably right about there being some innocent explanation for Jada saying she got the idea to drug Sebastian from Willa. I’m still going to ask her about that but―”

  “For the record, I’m not ruling out anyone who was in the casino that night, but that’s not the real problem I have with this idea.” Alec said. “What worries me is, well, she talks . . . a lot.”

  “You mean gossips.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be critical of your friends but―”

  “No. No, you’re right.” She waved a
hand, dismissing his apology. “Not being able to tell anyone about this might kill her.”

  But that still left them with the problem of a decoy. Alec might be able to manage alone, but his chances of success would be infinitely better with help.

  There was one other person she could ask. Someone who wasn’t remotely on their list of suspects, but . . . Did she dare suggest it? It was that or risk failing, she decided, and she badly wanted to do this. “There is someone else, but you’re probably not going to like it.”

  His face darkened as though he already hated her suggestion. “Who?”

  She braced for a fight. “Martin.”

  Alec’s jaw muscles bulged with enough tension she worried he might crack a tooth, but after a short pause, he said, “Fine. Ask him.”

  So why did she feel like he’d just handed her a rope? Not the kind that would save her from a long fall, but the kind with a noose at the end, and he was waiting to see if she stuck her head through it.

  ~***~

  Cleo would have liked privacy to call Martin, but short of locking herself in the bathroom, which would have looked suspicious as hell, she couldn’t seem to shake Alec long enough to make the call. She finally gave up and dialed Martin’s number.

  The call from her end—from both ends actually—was innocuous enough, but something about it soured Alec’s mood because he merely grunted when she hung up then shut himself in the bedroom with his laptop to sketch out the beginnings of the story.

  Jada came in from the patio and resumed working on the nearly finished jigsaw puzzle.

  From the arch that separated the kitchen from the rest of the dining room, Cleo watched her methodically fitting pieces together.

  Whether it was a new dance routine or being around people she didn’t know, change bothered Jada. That was one of the reasons having Willa stay with her had been such a godsend. But that wouldn’t be possible tonight.

  Cleo took the seat beside Jada, picked up a piece, and tried it in an empty space.

  “No,” Jada said. “That goes somewhere in the top corner.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “It’s the right shade.”

  “Oh.” Cleo couldn’t see the difference. She put the piece down and laid her forearms on the table. “I need to go to the casino tonight. Alec might come with me.” Though she was going to do her damnedest to convince him not to. “Will you be okay here by yourself?”

  “Willa won’t be here?” Jada asked, never lifting her eyes from the puzzle.

  “No. She’s working tonight.”

  “Good.”

  “Good? You don’t like having Willa stay with you?”

  Jada shook her head. “Annaliese wouldn’t like it.”

  Cleo had already known that, but she wasn’t exactly flush with options. “You don’t mind if Alec stays with you, do you?” She hadn’t considered that, which was almost funny. She hadn’t thought she’d missed any opportunities to worry.

  “No. I like Alec.”

  “I’m glad. I like him too.” Most of the time. And then there were times when he was damned inconvenient. And pigheaded. As she expected he’d be about letting her go off to meet Martin without him.

  “Are you going to marry him?” Jada held a piece of the puzzle, but her eyes were on Cleo.

  “No, honey. We’re just coworkers.” Very friendly coworkers. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

  Jada shrugged. “It’s what people do. Sometimes. Not people like Annaliese and me. But people like you. Annaliese says you should get married. But not to Martin. She doesn’t like Martin.”

  Annaliese had never met Martin, so Cleo didn’t know what had caused that sentiment. Then again, Annaliese made snap judgments about people regularly—apparently meeting them wasn’t required—and she was right about them a surprising amount of the time.

  But when she was wrong, Cleo reminded herself, she was usually spectacularly wrong.

  “I miss her,” Jada said softly.

  “I know, sweetie.” Cleo patted Jada’s hand.

  “When’s she coming home?”

  “I don’t know, but we’re working on it.” She smiled, hoping it looked encouraging, then stood to go convince Alec that Jada needed him to stay with her.

  Jada unexpectedly leaned off the edge of her chair, wrapped her arms around Cleo’s ribs, and laid her head against Cleo’s stomach. “Thank you.”

  Displays of affection for anyone but Annaliese were rare with Jada, so maybe it wasn’t surprising that Cleo felt as if a wild bird had come to land on her finger. Softly, half-afraid she’d spook her, Cleo stroked Jada’s hair. “For what?”

  Jada didn’t let go. “For taking care of me. I know I’m not very smart and I’m not your responsibility. I’ll try not to be too much trouble.”

  “Oh, Jada.” Cleo had to stop for a moment to swallow down the lump in her throat. Her voice still came out raspy. “You’re not too much trouble. You’re family. Family takes care of each other.” She hugged Jada back, surprised by how much she meant that. She had to make Jada’s world right again.

  Chapter 15

  Alec had tried not to look annoyed when Cleo called Martin and asked him to meet her in one of the lounges at the casino.

  Her.

  Not them.

  Maybe it was so she wouldn’t have to clarify who the second half of “them” was. He should go with that explanation and not let it bug him, but knowing what he should do didn’t make him do it.

  He was sitting on the bed, back braced against the headboard, his open laptop balance on his extended legs, when Cleo came in. He hadn’t actually written anything for a good ten minutes, but he didn’t want her to think she was a distraction, so he typed, These are the times that try men’s souls. Three times.

  His fingers lost their place when she stepped out of her jeans and into a pair of black slacks that hugged her sweet curves. When she glanced sideways at him, he reminded himself he was busy.

  These are the times th . . .

  She stripped her T-shirt off and reached for a soft, button-up-the-front, angora top.

  He watched her fasten it up the front. The buttons didn’t go high enough. She didn’t need to be showing any cleavage. This wasn’t a date.

  She glanced at him again as she walked into the bathroom.

  . . . at try men’s . . .

  In the bathroom, she picked up her hairbrush.

  These are the

  “You and Jada should be fine together,” Cleo said. “I don’t think she needs any more tranquilizers, but if she does, they’re―”

  tim;lkja

  “Whoa. What?” If she thought he was letting her meet Martin without him, she was completely loco.

  “Willa’s working tonight, so there’s no one to stay with Jada.” She stroked the brush through her hair.

  “Jada will be fine on her own. She’s been doing better every day. Or haven’t you noticed?”

  “Of course I’ve noticed,” she snapped. The hairbrush moved faster. “But today was a tough day for her. I’d rather not risk it.”

  He put the laptop aside. “You are full of shit.”

  The brush hit the top of the vanity with a loud clunk. “I beg your pardon?” She stood in the doorway, glaring at him.

  He got off the bed, prepared for battle. “I’m not going to babysit Jada, so you can run off and meet your boyfriend for drinks and”—he threw his hand up with a flourish—“whatever.”

  “Whatever?” Her whole body shook with outrage.

  Mierda. He sounded like a jealous lover. “Yes, whatever. I need to be there to make sure our big story isn’t the price of his cooperation.”

  She gasped—not a big gasp. A little tiny one—and went still. “I—I―” She clamped her mouth shut. Then, without any fire, she said, “Fine, you can come.”

  He didn’t know what to make of her sudden capitulation, but at least he wouldn’t have to follow her and crash her party. That would make him look like an obsessed
stalker.

  ~***~

  One short, silent car ride later, they stepped into the casino. Alec walked past a giant poster inside the front door advertising the Elvis revival. Five feet beyond that was one for the showgirl revue.

  Two steps after he’d passed it, he stopped and went back. The woman in the poster wore a tall, feathered headdress and the sparkly costume that barely covered the legal minimums, but what he focused on was her flat, bare midriff. Both of the times he’d been near Liz, she’d been wearing a loose, flowing top that, even if he’d been looking, would have covered any hint of a baby bump.

  The next show was at nine o’clock.

  Cleo had walked on ahead of him, but she came back. “What are you looking at?

  “Do you think Liz is working tonight?” Alec asked, his eyes still on the poster.

  Cleo seemed to shake off whatever troublesome thoughts had been distracting her since they’d left the condo. “I don’t know, but Willa could tell us.”

  “She never called you back, did she?”

  Cleo’s lips tightened. “No.”

  “Why don’t you call her now and ask? And maybe you can invite her to join us for a bite after the show.”

  Cleo nodded, stepping to the side to make the call.

  He studied the poster while he waited, wondering if he’d be able to see a baby bump when Liz was in costume.

  Cleo dropped her phone into her purse. “Liz is working tonight.”

  “Great. Let’s get tickets.”

  “But we’re supposed to meet Martin―”

  “It won’t take long. Or don’t you think Martin will wait if you’re a few minutes late?”

  She sighed her defeat. “Fine. Let’s get the tickets.”

  There it was. A second capitulation. His spidey sense was tingling, but he couldn’t pin down why.

  At the ticket booth outside the showroom, he charged the best seats available to The Word’s credit card.

  A few minutes later, they walked into the lounge to find Martin waiting at a table. He waved, then rose from his seat. When they reached the table, he kissed Cleo’s cheek.