The Liar (32 page)

“Not Melody. She goes for violence or vandalism.”

She peeled a potato, quickly. “You’re thinking of the murder, but that’s violence. That’s as violent as it gets.”

“I’m thinking connections, and how one thing fits with another.”

“Richard.” Her hands stilled briefly as she looked up. “Richard’s been the root of about all the trouble I’ve had, and the trouble you’ve had comes through me.”

“Not through you, Red.”

“Through me,” she corrected. “I’m not taking blame. I spent too much time taking blame for things I didn’t do, things I couldn’t stop, but facts are facts. Connections,” she repeated, and started on the next potato.

“Okay. If we look at connections—” Griff broke off as he heard the front door open. “That’ll be Forrest. Let’s leave it to the professional.”

“I couldn’t be happier to do just that.”

Forrest walked in, took a beer from the fridge. “Spell it out for me.”

“Somebody got to my keys, and used them to get into the house, then into my laptop like they did Griff’s. I can’t find anything else taken, and I keep some cash money, just a little, in my top drawer.”

“Which is the first place a burglar’s going to look. Move it. Tampon box is a pretty safe place.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, but he obviously wasn’t after cash or valuables.”

“Information’s valuable. Where were your keys?”

“In my purse.”

“Come on, Shelby, don’t be a jerk about it.”

“All right, all right.” She drew in a breath, picked up the wine. Settled down a bit, she went back to peeling as she related the key hunt.

“I know I had them when I got to rehearsal. I took them out of the ignition. I used the key Derrick gave me, because I can rehearse early sometimes, before anyone gets in. That’s what I did today. I was in and out before anyone came in, so I used them to lock up again when I left, put them in the side pocket of my purse, like always. I always put them there. I’m not careless.”

“Never were. She’s always been an organized soul,” Forrest said to Griff. “You may not get the rhyme or reason why she puts something where she puts it, but she knows where she put it.”

“Saves time. I went into the salon, and I put my purse behind the counter. Nobody would go after my keys who works there, Forrest. I know all the girls there, and most of the customers now. I mean, the regulars. We get tourists and such, but it would be next to impossible for one of them to go behind the counter, dig in my purse, come up with my keys without somebody noticing. We weren’t all that busy today.”

“So it stayed there, behind the counter, until you got it back out to go home, and couldn’t find the keys?”

“Yes. I mean, no. I took it with me to get the lunch orders. So I had it with me when I went to Sid and Sadie, then to the Pizzateria, where they somehow ended up under the front counter. I just figured I’d dropped them out somehow.”

“Which is what you were supposed to think, and would have kept thinking if our honorary deputy wasn’t on the ball.”

“It wasn’t hard to figure it out,” Griff put in.

“I wouldn’t have,” Shelby corrected. “I wouldn’t have given it another thought.”

“Did you bump into anybody, get bumped into, while you were picking up the orders?” Forrest asked her.

“No.” Brow furrowed, she took herself back through the route, as she had over and over again while she’d searched for the keys.

“I hit the lunch places just after the rush, because Jolene came in to apologize, and that took some time. I guess somebody could’ve gotten their hand in my bag, but it seems like I’d’ve known it. I did nearly bump into somebody,” she remembered. “I was hurrying back because I was running behind, and nearly bumped into this man looking for the best route up Rendezvous Trail.”

“Mmm-hmm. He asked you about that, asked for directions?”

“Yes. He was visiting the area and wanted . . .” She shut her eyes. “Oh my God, I’m an idiot. Yes, he asked me for directions, and I showed him on his map, and I had my hands full with the lunch bags. I went right in after, set down the orders, put my purse away, then went around handing them out. It’s the only time somebody could’ve gotten in my purse. When it was hanging right on my own damn shoulder.”

“What did he look like?” Griff demanded, then glanced at Forrest. “Sorry.”

“No need. That’s the next question.”

“He was tall. I had to look up. Ah . . . give me a second.” She carted the potatoes to the sink, washed them off, laid them on the cutting board to quarter them. “White, maybe early forties. He had sunglasses on. So did I—it was a bright day. He had on a baseball cap.”

“Color? Logo?”

“I think it was tan. I don’t remember if it had a logo or anything. He had dark hair—not black, but dark brown, longish. Kind of curled up over his ears. A little gray in the mustache and beard. Very trim, short beard. He looked . . . like a college professor who played football.”

“Big guy, then?”

“Yeah. Big, solid build. Not fat or flabby.” She put the potatoes on to boil.

Nodding, Forrest took out his phone, scrolled through. “How about this?”

She looked at the phone, and the photo of James Harlow. “No, he was a little older than this.”

“Gray in the beard?”

“That, and . . . He had that professor look to him.”

“Take another look, try to see him with the beard, the longer hair. Do a Wooly Willy.”

“I used to have one of those,” Griff commented, and studied the image over Shelby’s shoulder.

“I just don’t . . . He had thicker eyebrows—dark like his hair, and . . . Oh God, I
am
an idiot.”

“I’m happy to call my sister an idiot at any time. It’s part of my job, but you’re not on this.”

“I was standing on the sidewalk, talking to Jimmy Harlow, close as I am to you now, and I didn’t even think, never had a twinge about it. Even when he was stealing the keys out of my purse.”

“It’s what he does,” Forrest reminded her. “He changed his appearance, and he caught you when you were distracted, asked a common type of question. Got you going over the map so he could pick your pocket, and when he was done with the keys, he made sure you’d find them in a logical place. You’d have put it down to rush and accident, and never checked your laptop.”

“What was he after? What’s he looking for?”

Forrest cocked a brow at Griff. “What do you think, son?”

“I think he was looking to see if between us we’ve got millions of dollars tucked away, or know where to find it.”

“Why you?” Shelby demanded. “I understand why he’d think I might know. Even believe I had to know.”

“We’ve been spending a lot of time together since you got back.”

“I know you’re sleeping with my sister,” Forrest commented. “Your euphemisms are wasted on me. You move back to the Ridge, and pretty quick you hook up with this one,” he said to Shelby, “who relocated here not that many months ago. A person, especially one who lives on the grift, is bound to wonder if the two of you don’t go back a ways further.”

“He killed Melinda Warren, so it’s just him now.” Griff considered. “He’d get it all, but he has to find the jewelry, the stamps first. You’re his only link to it, Red.”

“I don’t know where it is, or if Richard sold it and blew the money, buried it or put it in some Swiss bank account. And this Jimmy Harlow wouldn’t find anything otherwise on my computer. Or yours, Griffin.”

“We can hope that’ll be enough for him,” Forrest said, “but we’re not going to count on it. I’m going to contact the sheriff, run all this by him. What’s for supper?”

“Ham, mashed potatoes, butter beans.”

“Sounds good. That your dog out there, Griff? The pup you got from Rachel Bell over your way?”

“Yeah. Snickers.”

“He’s starting to dig in my mama’s delphiniums. She’ll skin you both for it.”

“Oh shit.” Griff bulleted outside, calling for the dog.

Forrest grinned, leaned back on the counter. “I don’t much like thinking about my sister having sex.”

“Then I advise you not to think about it.”

“Doing my best not to. Some people,” he continued, “it takes you a while to warm up to, then maybe you make a friendship, or maybe you don’t. Other people, something just clicks, almost like you think, Hey, I remember you. From where, who the hell knows, but there’s that click. You know what I’m saying?”

“I guess I do.”

“With Griff, something clicked. Took a little while with Matt, but I think we’d have gotten around to it. It was Griff who shortened the time it took.”

Taking his phone off his belt, Forrest keyed in a number. “What I’m saying is, he’s a friend, and a good one, and knowing the kind of man he is, I’m adding on he’s a lot more what you deserve than the last one.

“Yeah, Sheriff, hope I’m not disturbing your supper,” Forrest began, and wandered away as he made his report.

•   •   •

A
FTER DINNER
, which turned out just fine despite the fact that her mind hadn’t been on the cooking, she shooed Griff out with Callie to chase the lightning bugs. The early ones blinked their yellow lights against the dark, setting the stage for the multitudes who’d light up the hills and forests in June.

Summer was surely on the way, and the snow-caked winter of the North faded until it became distant and almost otherworldly. Something over nearly as soon as it began.

She thought how much she wanted it to be over, but despite lightning bugs, a sweet fairy garden, the deepening green of the hills, something cold had followed her home. Her little girl might be dancing with the lights out in the yard, safe under the eye of the man she was . . . involved with. Her brother would be off now, looking into that something cold. So it was here, a shadow dogging her, and she couldn’t pretend otherwise.

She had run off looking for adventure, love, an exciting future, and had come home disillusioned and riddled with debt. But there was more, and worse, and she’d have to face that down, too.

She wished she had the damn millions. She’d wrap them up in shiny paper, tie them with a bow and hand them over to this Jimmy Harlow without a single regret.

Just go away, she thought. Just leave me to take a good hold on the life I can see having now.

She couldn’t think what Richard had done with all those jewels and stamps, or the money he’d gotten from them if he liquidated them. How could she know when she’d never known him? He’d worn a disguise throughout their marriage just as truly as Jimmy Harlow had worn one that afternoon.

She’d never seen through it. Maybe a shadow, a shape now and then, but never the whole man.

She knew what Richard had seen now when he’d looked at her. A dupe—a mark, that’s what they called people like her. Something useful, maybe valuable for a time, and once used, once the value had been mined, something carelessly discarded.

She was working her way out of debt, wasn’t she? She’d taken control, taken action. She’d figure out a way to take control, to take action in what was happening now.

She wouldn’t live her life being haunted by the actions of a man who’d used her, who’d lied to her, who’d been a stranger to her.

She put away the last of the dishes, decided, hell yes, she’d have another glass of wine. She’d let Callie have a little longer before bath and bed, a little longer to dance with the lights. And tomorrow she’d start working on a way to clear her life of the past, all of it, once and for all.

She poured the wine, started for the door when her phone signaled.

She pulled it out, checked the text from Emma Kate.

I’m getting married! Holy crap! Didn’t know I wanted to until he asked. I’ve got a ring on my finger, and I’m crazy happy. I need to talk to you tomorrow—too busy now. Sending this from the bathroom before I get busy again. OMG and WTF! I’m getting married. Gotta go.

Shelby read it a second time, felt her smile getting bigger, brighter. Her best friend was dancing in the light, too.

So happy for you!
she texted back.
Crazy happy for you. Stay busy—I can be jealous there as I don’t know the next time I’ll be able to get busy. We’ll talk tomorrow. I want every detail. I love you—tell Matt he’s the luckiest man in the world.

She sent the text, then stepped out to do a little dancing of her own.

S
he met Emma Kate at the park so she could let Callie and Jackson play.

“Doc gave me an hour, bless his heart. He knew how much I wanted to talk to you. Look!”

Emma Kate shot out her hand, and the princess-cut diamond winked in the sun.

“It’s beautiful. It’s perfect.”

“He got channel set—see how it’s set in some, instead of poking out?”

“Yes. I just love it, Emma Kate.”

“He said he did that so I wouldn’t get it caught on things, working with patients. I love that he thought of that. And he got my exact size, too. He made a template from one of my rings—that was Griff’s idea.”

“I got a little of that when I told Griff after I got your text. He never gave me the tiniest hint that he’d gone with Matt to buy you a ring.”

“Matt says Griff’s a vault when you ask him to be.”

“I want to hear all of it. Oops, wait.” She hurried over to Jackson, who’d taken a little spill. After she brushed him off, kissed his knee, she dug out one of the trucks in her bag so he could roll it around in the sandbox.

“He’ll do all right for a while. Callie likes to boss him around some, but that’s the way it is when you’re the oldest.”

“We talked about kids, having them. We want to wait a little, but in another year or two . . . God, married, kids.” Laughing, she pressed both hands to her heart, bumped her shoulders up and down. “I can’t believe it.”

“You want it.”

“With Matt, I do. Yesterday he texted me how he had to work a little late, but he’d stop and get dinner to bring home. He brought wine, too, and flowers. I guess I should’ve known something was coming, but it was just nice not having to think about either of us cooking anything, and having a nice bottle of wine, and flowers on the table. I’m babbling on about needing to get into the salon, do something with my hair, and he says how I’m beautiful. How everything about me is beautiful.

“I figured he just wanted to get lucky.”

“Emma Kate.”

“It’s not like he never tells me, but it was the
way
. I’m thinking, I had such a long day, but it was so nice not to have to think about fixing anything, and I felt good, after a couple glasses of wine. So maybe we’d both get lucky.”

Pressing her hand to her heart again, she sighed. “That surely happened, but before . . . Before, he reached over for my hand, and he just looked at me. I swear, Shelby, we’ve been together for nearly three years now, but my heart skipped a beat. It really did, and it skipped another when he said how he loves me. How I make everything in his life make sense, and being with me, having a life with me, is all he wants.

“He actually got down on one knee.”

“That’s so sweet. Emma Kate, you got a storybook.”

“It feels like it right now, and I never expected it, and never thought I’d feel the way I did when he took out that ring.”

“Tell me what he said. How did he ask?”

“He said—he said just this: ‘Marry me, Emma Kate. Spend your life with me.’” Emma Kate’s eyes filled; her voice broke. “‘Build a life with me.’”

“Oh.” Shelby pulled out tissues for both of them. “That’s just right.”

“I know. Just right. So I said yes. Yes, I’ll marry you. Yes, I’ll spend my life with you. Yes, I’ll build a life with you. And he put the ring on, and it fit. I started crying I was so happy, like right now.”

She sighed, laid her head on Shelby’s shoulder. “I wanted to talk to you last night, but—”

“You were busy.”

“Really, really busy.”

Callie walked up, patted Emma Kate’s wet cheeks with both hands. “Happy tears?”

“Yes, they are, darling. Happy, happy tears. I’m going to marry Matt, and it makes me really happy.”

“I’m going to marry Griff.”

“Are you?”

“Uh-huh. I
love
him.”

“I know just how you feel.” Swaying side to side, she cuddled Callie. “Just exactly how. You know what, Callie? I think you should be my flower girl.”

Callie’s eyes popped wide. In a reverent whisper, she said, “Mama!”

Afraid she’d start tearing up again, Shelby popped Jackson and his sandy truck onto her lap. “My goodness, Callie, that’s such an honor. You’ve never been a flower girl.”

“I’ve never been a bride, so it’s perfect,” Emma Kate decided.

“Can I get a new dress and sparkly shoes?”

“We’re
both
going to get a new dress and sparkly shoes. And your mama, too. You’ll be my maid of honor, won’t you, Shelby?”

“You know I will.” Beyond happy, Shelby threw her arms around Emma Kate, sandwiched the kids between them. “You know I will. And I’m going to give you the best bridal shower ever seen in the entire state of Tennessee—just like we planned when we were girls. Have you picked a date?”

“If my mama had her way it would be tomorrow, or two years from tomorrow so she could fuss me into insanity while she devises a scheme to hold the wedding in the governor’s mansion, at the very least.”

“You’re her only girl.” As she was her own mother’s, Shelby thought with a pang. “A mother’s bound to be excited over her only girl’s wedding.”

“Mama was born excited. She’s already talking dresses and colors and venues and guest lists. Matt and I talked about having a small, civilized wedding in the fall, but now that Mama’s got the bit between her teeth, we’ve surrendered to a big wedding, and next April. So I’ll be a spring bride.”

“What could be prettier? Oh, let’s have an engagement party, Emma Kate. Everybody likes a party.”

“I wanna party,” Callie chimed in.

“Of course you do. You want a party, right, Jackson?”

“I get presents?”

“It’s not a party without presents.”

“Mama’s ahead of you. I couldn’t hold her to a backyard barbecue. She wants a dress-up party, so she’s already wrangling to use the hotel. I’m letting her have her way because I’m getting mine on everything else. I’m firm on it. And I’m counting on you to help me rein her in.”

“I’m your girl. How about we give y’all a push on the swings?” she asked the kids.

“I want to go high!” Callie made a beeline for the swing.

“No point in swinging unless you go high.” Shelby hefted Jackson onto her hip. “We’ll give them a push, bride-to-be, and we can talk wedding dresses.”

“One of my current favorite subjects.”

•   •   •

S
HELBY DIDN’T TELL
Emma Kate about the keys, the laptop. She wouldn’t spoil the brightness of the moment. But she gnawed on it.

Once she had the kids fed and down for a nap—say hallelujah—she sat down with her laptop. Business first, she ordered herself, meticulously paid bills, adjusted her spreadsheet, calculated how close she’d come to paying off the next credit card.

Considerable to go on that yet.

The sales from the consignment shop had started to dwindle—not unexpected—and she reminded herself just how big a hole they’d helped fill in.

And she tried not to think just how mortifying it was to know some stranger had copied all her troubles—the e-mails, the lawyer and tax correspondence, the spreadsheet, the painful chipping away at bills.

Couldn’t let it matter, she told herself. She’d think of the upside there. Poring over her personal miseries ought to tell Jimmy Harlow if she had access to millions, she wouldn’t be squeezing out nickels and dimes to pay off debt.

He’d go away, wouldn’t he? Surely he knew he risked capture and being tossed back in prison if he stayed too close.

But then, millions of dollars made a shiny incentive.

Payback made a darker one. She understood that. She’d felt that ugly tug herself over the past months.

Take action, she thought, and began to make a list.

She culled through pictures she kept in a file. Would Harlow do the same? Was he studying her years with Richard through her photographs? And why hadn’t she deleted them—those images of Richard, of the two of them, in Paris, in Trinidad, in New York and Madrid? All those places.

All those places, she thought again.

Had he taken the property he’d stolen, stashed it on those travels with her? Another bank box, an airport locker, holding onto it or selling it off a piece at a time?

She had the photographs to tell her where they’d gone, when they’d gone.

Then Atlanta, where they’d settled. Or she had, she thought now. He’d still had all those “business trips.” And she’d packed the baby up from time to time when he insisted they fly off somewhere for a holiday.

“Where did he go when I wasn’t with him?” she wondered. “And why did he take a wife and baby he had no real interest in along other times?”

She got up, walked around the kitchen, opened the door for air, walked around again.

As cover, of course. That’s all they’d ever been to him. Just another disguise. How much had he scammed or stolen on those trips with her and Callie? She could barely think of it.

But she would think of it.

She sat again, using the photographs to add to her list. Tried to put herself back in time, in those places. But God, sometimes she’d been so tired, so stressed, trying to deal with an infant in a strange place, a place where she didn’t know the language or the geography.

She pored over what she had, making notes, trying to remember people he’d introduced her to, or had her arrange cocktail parties for. Wealthy people, she thought now. But then, she’d thought they were wealthy.

Had they been marks? Had they been associates?

Likely some of both.

She jumped up when she heard footsteps and, heart pounding, swung around to pull the chef’s knife from the block.

“Shelby? Shelby Anne?”

“Mama.” On an unsteady breath, she shoved the knife back in the block, put on a smile as her mother walked in.

“There you are. Where are my babies?”

“They’re napping, after a hard day at the park. They’ll be up soon, though, probably wanting a snack.”

“I’m going to take care of that. Look here, I got new pictures when I went in to the hospital to see the baby this morning.” She took out her phone, cuddled close to Shelby as they scrolled through. “He’s just handsome as a prince. Got his daddy’s chin, you see that? I went by Clay’s and made sure everything’s as it should be, because they’re letting Gilly bring Beau home tomorrow.”

“That’s wonderful. She’ll love being home with Jackson and the baby.”

“She’d walk out of there now if we’d let her, but she’s settled for tomorrow. I found the cutest stuffed hound dog and put it in Beau’s crib, got some nice fresh flowers for the bedroom for Gilly. That nursery’s as sweet as an ice cream cone. And I got two facials in at the salon. Later on I’m going to make up some spaghetti—Gilly favors my spaghetti—and get it over there so nobody has to think about dinner tomorrow.”

“You’re not just the best mama, you’re the best mama-in-law.”

“Gilly’s one of the lights of my life. Right now I’m going to spend the rest of the day with my two other grandbabies. And you go on, go on out and do something fun.”

“Mama, you’ve driven over to Gatlinburg and back I don’t know how many times the last two days, fussed over at Clay’s, and plan to cook them a meal so they don’t have to. And you went in to work.”

“That’s right.” All but sparkling with joy, Ada Mae got the pitcher of tea from the fridge. “And now I’m going to enjoy the rest of my day. Oh, I also went shopping. I got the sweetest little baby clothes for that boy. And picked up a big brother toy for Jackson, and a little something for Callie.”

“The best Gamma, too. Mama, you spoil them all.”

“I do a fine job of it.” She poured two glasses of tea over ice, snipped some mint from the pot on her windowsill. “I don’t know when I’ve ever felt so good. Nothing like a brand-new baby. And I’ve got a master suite straight out of a magazine. I swear I’d’ve slept in that big tub last night if I could. I’ve got my own baby girl and hers home with me. My chicks are happy and home, my husband still takes me on dates. I’ve got everything I could want.”

She handed Shelby a glass, kissed her cheek. “Now you go get yours.”

“Get my what?”

“Your everything. I’d start that off by asking that clever and handsome young man out on a date. Then I’d go buy myself something pretty to wear on it.”

Shelby thought of her spreadsheet. “I’ve got plenty to wear.”

“Something new now and then perks a girl up. You work hard, Shelby. I know you’ve got bills, and I know you’ve been sitting there at that computer worrying about them. I raised you to be smart and responsible, but I’m telling you—” Ada Mae fisted her hands on her hips, just as her own mother was wont to do. “Your mama’s telling you to go out and buy yourself a new dress. Something you’re buying yourself with money you earned. See if that doesn’t lift you up some. And then let Griff lift you a little more. I’m going to have Suzannah bring Chelsea over later, and those girls are having themselves a slumber party here tonight. You do the same.”

“I should have a slumber party?”

After a hooting laugh, Ada Mae drank some tea. “That’s what we’ll call it in polite company. Go on, buy a dress, go over to the salon and get prettied up, and go take Griffin’s breath away.”

“You know I love you, Mama.”