Criminal Deception

by Pappano, Marilyn

  They left the shop and walked half a block before she spoke. “I don’t think Josh got paid off. I don’t think he had contact with anyone in Chicago. I would have known.”

  His chuckle was dry and bitter. “Honey, he could be whispering sweet nothings in your ear and stealing a necklace from around your neck, and you’d never notice it slipping away. Besides, he could have gotten in touch with them after he left.”

  “I guess.” A few more steps, then, “Do you think he’s dead?”

  “I don’t know. I hope not.” He felt her gaze on him and shrugged without meeting it. “Look, Josh and I have never been best buds and never will be. But I’ve never wished him dead. Well, not since we were kids.” Although some part of him wished Josh had never existed or, at least, had never known Liz. Then Joe wouldn’t feel guilty for wanting her. He wouldn’t keep remembering that she’d been Josh’s first. He wouldn’t wonder whether she preferred Josh to him.

  Although if Josh had never been born, the odds that Joe and Liz ever would have met were slim, unless he believed in fate, and he wasn’t sure he did.

  A Cut Above was located in the middle of the block, in an old brick building that still resembled the butcher shop it had once been. That was just in the front, though, where glass cases were filled with choice cuts of meat for home cooking. Swinging doors led to the restaurant, with hardwood floors, exposed brick walls and lights everywhere to make up for the lack of windows.

  The hostess, one of Joe’s regulars, greeted him with a smile that doubled in size when she saw Liz, and she led them to a table far from the other diners. “We’ll give you a little privacy,” she said with a pat on his hand, then another for Liz before leaving them alone.

  “We’re in clear view of everyone else,” Liz pointed out as she took a seat. “How private is that?”

  “At least they can’t eavesdrop.”

  “Would they?”

  “In a heartbeat.”

  “Esther’s keeping tabs on us,” she admitted.

  “And she’s not the only one. You stick around much longer, who knows what they’ll think?”

  Smiling uneasily, she opened the menu. He didn’t bother with his; he always got the same thing for lunch there.

  When she laid down the menu again, the waitress came back. He ordered a rib eye, rare, with all the trimmings; Liz asked for a steak sandwich and sweet potato chips. Alone again, he couldn’t think of anything to say, and it seemed Liz couldn’t either. She sat there, idly toying with the silverware in front of her.

  Correction: He could think of something to say. He just wasn’t sure he wanted to say it or hear her response now. But even unpleasant conversation would be better than this awkwardness between them.

  “So…”

  She looked up.

  “If you knew where Josh was, you wouldn’t be wasting time here with me.”

  Her cheeks turned pink, but her gaze didn’t waver. “I didn’t say I was wasting time.”

  “Yeah, but…” It had been pretty clear: She was in Copper Lake because she didn’t know where else to go, and with Joe because he was her only hope of finding Josh.

  What if he gave the magazine to her? Would his brother be pissed? Or had he regretted running out on her, but just didn’t know how to find her since she’d left San Francisco, too?

  Could he be responsible for putting her and Josh together again?

  Maybe sometime. But not yet.

  “I told you before, I’m not in love with Josh. I never was.”

  “You sure fooled me. And him.”

  Unexpectedly she smiled. “Fooling Josh isn’t hard. He expects everyone to adore him.”

  Even though her description nailed his brother, he didn’t smile back. “If you didn’t love him, why did you go with him when he ran off? Why did you stick around all that time?”

  “I don’t know. I guess the danger. The excitement. I’d never been with a guy that people wanted dead, unless you count the guys I dated in high school. My brothers were always threatening them. It was a big change from life in Kansas. By the time the excitement faded, staying with him was just habit.”

  “And if you find him, if he wants you to stay a while longer…”

  “I’m not interested. Neither is he.” She shrugged. “He’s got my cell phone number. You notice he hasn’t used it.”

  The knot in Joe’s gut loosened, and for the first time since Marshal Ashe had walked through the coffee shop door, he felt some ease and, along with it, hunger. The sight of the waitress approaching with his salad made his stomach growl.

  The woman set a glass of sweet tea in front of Joe and served diet pop to Liz, then presented his salad and a loaf of hot bread with a flourish. “The rest will be out as soon as you’re done with that. So…Liz, is it? Nice name. Short for Elizabeth?”

  Liz nodded.

  “Joe and Liz. Has a good sound to it, doesn’t it? Both short and sweet…but not too sweet.” She gave Joe a sly smile before strolling away.

  Liz rolled her eyes. “Are folks like this with every single adult in town, or are you considered particularly needy?”

  “Both. They think it’s unnatural that I haven’t dated since I moved here.”

  “Why haven’t you?”

  He speared a grape tomato covered with blue cheese dressing and chewed it while he considered his answer. People had commented on his single status; they’d tried to fix him up with sisters, daughters, nieces, friends. But no one ever asked him why he always said no.

  “Things are different,” he said at last. “I used to see a fair number of women, and I liked most of them, but it never really meant anything. I guess I’m waiting for someone…” Who means something. Someone who could change his life. Someone who could break his heart.

  Liz buttered a slice of bread, then set it, untasted, on the plate. “My dad used to tell the boys that you can’t win if you don’t play the game.”

  “Maybe that’s part of the problem. It’s not a game anymore.”

  “But how do you know one of the women in town isn’t exactly what you’re looking for unless you give yourself a chance to find out?”

  “I know.” It sounded stubborn and more than a little sappy. He didn’t believe in love at first sight, but he did believe in chemistry. Attraction.

  Like the punch to the gut he’d gotten when he met Liz.

  Before he could make himself sound any more emotionally moronic than he already had, the waitress delivered their meal, and the next few minutes were spent eating, mmm-ing and generally giving the food the attention it deserved.

  “I’m not a clingy woman,” Liz remarked halfway through the meal. “I know when to let go. If I didn’t need to find Josh, I wouldn’t have given him a second thought. He didn’t break my heart, and I’m not looking for someone to take his place. I’m certainly not looking for someone who reminds me of him as much as you do.”

  Joe nodded, but didn’t say anything.

  “We both have reasons why we should keep our distance from each other.” She picked up a sweet potato chip and concentrated as if dipping it into the ranch dressing was the most important thing on her mind. “After last night, I don’t think those reasons are going to be enough.”

  He agreed. He shouldn’t have kissed her. He’d known that when he did it. But damned if he wouldn’t do it again given the chance.

  And again.

  “You could leave town,” he pointed out, even though the words made his fingers tighten on his fork.

  “Or you could tell me where Josh is.”

  “I don’t know.” He didn’t parrot the rest of his usual response—haven’t seen him, haven’t heard from him. He didn’t want to lie to her, not again, until he had no other choice.

  “Then I can’t leave.”

  “Is it money? Is that what he took? Because if you need money, I have some. You can consider it my last favor to Josh.”

  She shook her head, then finally dropped the chip, soggy now from its time
in the dressing.

  “What then? Jewelry? A family heirloom? Some sort of keepsake?” He pushed his plate away so he could rest his arms on the table. “If he stole anything of value, Liz, it’s gone. He sold it or pawned it, and finding him won’t change that. You’ll never get it back.”

  Once more she shook her head.

  Now he was bewildered. “What else could be so important? You said it’s not a child.”

  “Absolutely not.” Her vehemence was just right to feel real.

  “Does he have some sort of evidence against you? Proof that you did…something?” The image of Liz committing a crime, even something minor, refused to form. Josh was the criminal here, not her. She was a good person, friendly to Natalia, who didn’t make friendliness easy for most people, and kind to the dogs. She liked people, and they liked her. She was honest and real.

  And so was Josh, when he wanted to be.

  She’d liked the excitement of dating the bad boy. She’d known what he was and she’d stuck around anyway, for more than two years. What exactly did that say about her character?

  If Josh could fool people into trusting him, so could she. She’d had a long time to learn the art of manipulation from a master.

  But Joe didn’t want to believe it. Not when he wanted to have wickedly good sex with her.

  “No evidence,” she said without even a hint of offense. “I don’t share Josh’s disdain for the law. The worst thing I’ve ever done is speed, and I like to jaywalk from time to time.”

  “So now I know what it isn’t.” If he believed her, and for whatever reasons—trust, lust—he did. “Are you ever going to tell me what it is?”

  “Someday.” But she replied with such a wistful note that this time he was pretty sure he couldn’t believe her.

  After lunch, Joe returned to the coffee shop, and Liz headed home. She should call Mika as soon as she got there and rely on her to smack some sense into her. Being chastised by Mika was always a sobering experience.

  As she approached the cottages, she pulled out her cell phone, but when she saw Natalia cautiously backing out of Joe’s house, she put it back in her pocket. All that rain the day before, but the grass was dry as she crossed it. “Hi.”

  Natalia startled and closed the door the last few inches with a thud. From the other side came Bear’s frantic barks and Elizabeth’s most piercing wail. Glancing over her shoulder, she locked the door, then came to the top of the steps. “If you’re not careful, Elizabeth will escape, and Bear goes with her.”

  “You’re a good friend to take care of the dogs like this.”

  Natalia’s eyes, magnified behind rectangular-shaped glasses, were blank for a moment, as if she didn’t quite grasp the meaning of the words, then she flushed. “I brought them here.”

  “What else could you do? They needed a home.”

  Natalia nodded as she came slowly down the steps. When she reached the bottom, Liz would bet, she was going to bolt for home. Grabbing at the only excuse she could come up with, she quickly said, “Hey, Joe suggested that you might be willing to loan me your bike for a ride tomorrow.” She gestured toward the bright green bike on the next porch. “It looks expensive. If you don’t want to, that’s fine. I’d hate to break it or something.”

  Natalia’s smile was rusty. “It’s pretty sturdy. Other than flattening a tire, I don’t think you can do anything to it.”

  “I haven’t ridden since I was a kid.”

  “Until I moved here, I’d never been on a bike. If I can learn at this age, you can remember at your age.”

  Liz grinned. “Be careful of the way you say ‘your age.’ After I passed thirty, I got more sensitive about it.”

  “You’re not much older than I am.”

  When Natalia started toward her house, Liz fell into step with her. “There’s a quote from a movie probably made before you were born, something about it not being the years but the mileage.”

  “Indiana Jones. I like movies.”

  “Me, too. Sitting in a darkened theater, munching on salty, buttery popcorn, guzzling pop because the salt makes me thirsty and hoping I can hold off on going to the bathroom until the end.”

  Natalia’s expression was blank, as if Liz was describing something alien to her. “I watch them here.” She gestured toward her house. The front door was open, and through the screen door filtered what sounded like an intergalactic battle.

  “Do you mind if I come in and see your collection?”

  Natalia hesitated long enough that a polite person would have rescinded the request, but Liz just smiled and waited. Finally, with a shrug, Natalia climbed the steps, opened the screen door and waited for Liz to enter first.

  Like her house, like Joe’s, Natalia’s door opened into the living room, which wasn’t barren, as Liz’s was, or cozy, as Joe’s was. The furniture—sofa, chair, coffee and end tables—wasn’t antique but merely old and heavily worn. The television, muted now, was top quality, and the movies…

  Liz’s brows arched. There were hundreds of them filling shelves that lined the walls: chick flicks, gangster movies, science fiction, thrillers, comedies, horror and entire seasons of enough TV shows to keep a television station in business for years. Liz circled the room, occasionally pulling out a case, then replacing it.

  The information in her files on Natalia was minimal: born and raised in Florida, she’d been an honor student before she dropped out of high school and dropped off the radar. She’d had no driver’s license or tax returns in the years since. No arrests either.

  Where had she spent that time? Doing what? With a pretty young girl, prostitution was always a possibility. Hardships were a given. But it was a fair bet that an honor student who’d quit school and run away from home was already familiar with hardships of one sort or another. Mrs. Wyndham had thought Natalia had been thrown away, like the puppies, and Liz’s instincts agreed.

  Aware of Natalia standing motionless, watching her, she turned and smiled. “Wow. Did you buy out a rental store? This makes my little collection at home look pitiful.”

  “Where is home?”

  Liz would have bitten back the word if she could. Instead, she shrugged and perched on the sofa arm. “I don’t really have one right now. My parents are storing my stuff for me back in Kansas until I settle down somewhere. Where is home for you?”

  Her movements economical, Natalia indicated the room around them. “This is it.”

  “I mean, where are you from?”

  “Everywhere.” Natalia sat in the armchair, feet flat on the floor, spine straight. “How is Joe?”

  “You tell me.” When the blank look appeared, Liz went on. “I don’t know him that well.” Lie. In terms of actual contact, maybe they were still fairly new to each other, but in terms of intensity of contact…she knew him in her bones.

  Natalia was silent a long time. “He’s a good guy,” she said at last.

  “And you know that based on past experience with good guys?”

  She snorted. “Just the opposite. You put a bunch of nice guys together and hide a loser among them, and I can find him blindfolded.”

  As Liz slid to sit on the sofa cushion, she suspected that Natalia’s loser stories could put her own to shame. Some part of her wanted to know what the girl had been through and how she could help, but another part didn’t want to know at all. Sad stories were particularly sad when she knew the person involved.

  “It must feel funny, going from his brother to him.”

  As she considered the comment, Liz’s gaze skimmed across the framed art on the wall. Movie posters, of course, mostly for golden-age classics. If she’d truly been Josh’s girlfriend, it probably would feel strange. But she hadn’t been. “They don’t have much in common.”

  “No family resemblance?”

  “Well…” Had Joe told Natalia they were twins? “Yeah, I guess you could say that. But they’re very different.”

  “So Joe’s the good brother, and Josh is the loser?”

>   “Yeah, you could say that, too.”

  Natalia’s features darkened, and her lavender eyes radiated hostility, but just for a moment, the time it took for her to replace the mask. Did that home life she’d run away from—or been kicked out of—include a sister she couldn’t live up to? Had she been her parents’ bad daughter, their loser?

  Liz wished she could magically undo the hurts Natalia had suffered, but she was short on magic. If she had any, she’d fix everyone’s problems. She would zap Josh back into custody, conjure a conviction for the Mulroneys and twinkle up a chance for her and Joe. Just a fair chance, with no baggage, no lies, no Josh between them. That was all she would ask for.

  As if she’d had all the conversation she could stand, Natalia got to her feet. “Do you want to give the bike a ride now so you’ll be ready tomorrow?”

  “So I can dazzle Joe by not falling off at his feet?” Liz asked drily as she, too, stood. Natalia handed her a white helmet, then went outside and wheeled the bike down the steps.

  “I have to wear a helmet?”

  “If you want to ride with Joe, you do.”

  Liz plopped the helmet on her head, then fastened the chin strap. “I bet I look like a goober with all this hair sticking out.”

  She didn’t expect a response, but Natalia looked her over, then soberly agreed, “Yeah, you do.”

  After a quick lesson on gears and brakes, Liz climbed onto the bike and peddled between the cottages to the driveway without wobbling too much. The bike’s style was retro, looking like something her mother might have ridden forty years ago, with a wide comfortable seat and a design that allowed her to sit upright. Except for the helmet, it was fun, especially when she took a short spin on the paved street, without all the bumps, and she would get used to the helmet.

  When she returned to Natalia, she grinned. “I’m not ready to give up my car, but this is cool. Way different from the bike I got for Christmas when I was eight.”

  “It’s not a bad way to get around,” Natalia replied.

  Liz climbed off and removed the helmet, shaking out her hair. “Maybe I’ll settle someplace where I can have a bike.”

  “I figured you’d settle here. I mean, Joe says he’s not going anywhere.”