Criminal Deception Page 8

  “Like cause you to lose touch with your roommate and the rest of your friends.”

  Finally the dog began moving again, and within a minute or two of silence, they reached the bank. He dropped the locked bag into the night slot, then gazed around. Home was to the northeast. Nearer, only a block to the west, was the SnoCap Drive-In, a fifties-era joint with greasy burgers, crispy fries and home-brewed root beer. “Have you had dinner?”

  “I have, but I’d like something cold to drink.”

  He gestured, and they headed toward the corner. Halfway there, he responded to her last real comment. “When I got out of the hospital, I followed Josh’s lead. I ran away. I left Chicago as soon as I was able, I didn’t tell anyone but Mom and Dad where I was going, and I haven’t had any contact with anyone from there since. People here know where I came from, but they don’t know why. In the beginning it was easier not to tell them, and now…” Now it was easier to just go with the status quo.

  “You don’t want them to know that you were the victim of a violent crime? Because it’s not that uncommon.”

  “I know. It happens even here.”

  “So the victim of violence part doesn’t bother you. Is it because your brother was involved? Or because…” Liz shortened the leash to pull Elizabeth back from the street, and her voice turned thoughtful. “You said you ran away. You think leaving Chicago was cowardly? That you should have stayed as if nothing had happened?”

  They turned onto Carolina Avenue. The lights were brighter there, with the only traffic Joe had seen since leaving the shop. It was mostly kids in this part of town at night, cruising between the SnoCap, Charlie’s Custom Rods next door and Taquito Taco on the west side of the river. A group of boys gathered around the raised hoods of cars older than they were in Charlie’s parking lot, comparing one rumbling engine to the other, while newer cars filled most of the spaces at the SnoCap.

  “I never got the car thing,” Joe said as they cut through Charlie’s lot and headed for the lone outside table at the drive-in. “Even when I was their age, a car was just transportation. As long as it got me where I was going, I didn’t care about the rest.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I think that car you had in Chicago was more a status symbol than just transportation. You were successful and everything—the car, the clothes, the condo—showed it.”

  Joe grinned. “I do miss the suits sometimes. I looked damn good in Armani.”

  She tied Elizabeth’s leash to a post a few feet away. “You look pretty damn good in jeans and T-shirts.”

  He stared at her. Her tone had been casual, but there was nothing casual about the heat that burned through him. She thought he looked good in his clothes, huh? Was she interested in seeing how he looked without them? Scars aside, that was good, too, and he was real damn interested in seeing her without her clothes.

  Or he would be, if she hadn’t been Josh’s first.

  If he knew for absolute certain that she wasn’t still Josh’s.

  He parked his bike out of the dog’s range before asking what she wanted.

  “My pockets are empty except for keys. Buy me a diet cherry limeade, and it’ll be my treat next time.”

  He went to the window, where one of his after-school regulars greeted him with a smile too warm and friendly for a girl half his age. “Hey, Joe. You want your usual?”

  “Yeah, plus a large diet cherry limeade.”

  The girl—he remembered she ordered a tall caramel-drizzle frappucino every time but couldn’t recall her name—looked past him to the table, and her glossy pink mouth settled into a pout. “I’ve never seen her before. Who is she?”

  “Her name is Liz. She’s…” His brother’s ex-girlfriend? Maybe current? The woman he would have gladly gotten hot and dirty with if she hadn’t said the magic words—Remember Josh. How the hell could he forget him? “She’s new in town.”

  Caramel-drizzle—Carmie, that was her name—tossed her blond ponytail over her shoulder. “I hadn’t heard you were seeing anyone.”

  “I hadn’t either.”

  “So are you guys, what? Like, friends?”

  He glanced over his shoulder at Liz, sitting now, with Elizabeth bracing her paws on her thigh. She was scratching the dog behind the ears, and the pup was quivering from the tip of her nose all the way down to her tail.

  Joe imagined he might do the same if Liz got physical with him.

  Tapping nails drew his attention back to Carmie, who was still pouting. “Yeah,” he replied. Friends was as good a description as any.

  With a disgruntled sound, Carmie turned away to fix their drinks, then set the cups in front of him and made change. “The food will be out in a minute.”

  He stifled the urge to offer to wait and returned to the table. Elizabeth immediately tried to climb into his lap, stopping only when Liz gave her a stern No.

  “Teach me to do that,” he said. “She’s lived with me forty-eight hours and so far ‘dinner’ is the only word she’s acknowledged.”

  “It’s all a matter of attitude.”

  “Yeah. She’s got it and I don’t.” He settled into the plastic chair, crossed one ankle over the other knee and gazed into the distance. If he’d shown up at Ellie’s, Tia Maria’s or Chantal’s with Liz, the gossip would have spread across town by the time they got home. But none of these kids besides Carmie even noticed them, and she would have forgotten by the time she got home.

  That was good. If people were going to gossip about him, he’d rather have them wondering if he was gay than what was between him and Liz.

  Besides, of course, Josh.

  “You never answered me.” With one elegantly slender hand, Liz gestured toward Charlie’s. “On the way here, you called leaving Chicago ‘running away.’ Is that how you see it? How you see yourself? As a coward?”

  He had hoped she would forget the question or at least give him the courtesy of pretending to forget. He’d never talked about this with anyone—not that he had many people to talk to. It wasn’t exactly a topic he could bring up with his parents. Even the slightest reminder, and his dad teared up and his mom’s behavior bordered on frantic: cleaning, blathering, even spontaneous bursts of prayer.

  His muscles were so tense that it felt as if shrugging might make them crackle. “Thousands of people are victimized every year, and they don’t pack up and run off to find someplace safer to live. They don’t break with their past and start all over someplace new. They don’t hide.”

  She took a long suck on her drink before giving her own more convincing shrug. “You didn’t change your name or your appearance. You haven’t isolated yourself in the back of beyond. You don’t carry a gun or view everyone with suspicion. You have a business. You have friends and neighbors, and you’ve taken on new obligations. You go out at night. You talk to strangers. You’re not in hiding.”

  “I’m not in Chicago either.”

  Another delicate wave of those fingers, this time dismissing his argument. “Staying in Chicago wouldn’t have made you any stronger or braver. People there wanted your brother dead. Since you happen to look exactly like him, getting out was the smart thing to do, at least until those people are put in jail.”

  “Josh isn’t going to make any effort to help with that, is he?” The bitterness was heavier in his voice than he’d intended. God knew, he felt a lot of resentment toward Josh, but he owed him at least a little fairness. If leaving town and staying away was the smart thing for Joe, then wasn’t it doubly smart for Josh since he’d been the Mulroneys’ target in the first place?

  Carmie delivered his burger and fries, along with a handful of napkins and a long look for Liz, and the dog immediately returned to his side, greedily eyeing the food.

  “Maybe he’ll surprise everyone,” Liz said as he handed a pinched-off piece of hamburger bun to the puppy. “Maybe his conscience will force him to appear for the trial.”

  Joe laughed, and the tension between his shoulders eased. “You’ve mistaken Josh fo
r someone else. He doesn’t have a conscience.”

  “He has one. He just doesn’t listen to it very often.” She pried the top off her cup, then fished out the cherry. “Do you intend to go back to Chicago once the trial is over?”

  It was an easy answer, something he’d thought about and decided right after he’d moved to Copper Lake. But as he watched her dangle the cherry by its stem, raise it into the air, tilt her head back and open her mouth, all conscious thought left him. His mind went blank, his lungs burned for air, his skin heated and arousal rushed in his ears and through his body.

  She closed her teeth around the cherry, pulled the stem loose, then chewed, making a soft mmm sound. Dots of sweat popped out on his forehead, and his hand was unsteady as he reached for his root beer, gulping half of it in one swallow.

  “Is that a hard question?”

  Question? Oh, yeah, Chicago. “No. I decided when I bought the shop that if I liked it here, I would stay.”

  “And you like it.”

  “I do.” And I’m liking it more every day. “It’s a different life.”

  “Quieter,” she said with a nod.

  “And slower.”

  “You work long hours.”

  “But I worked eighty-hour weeks in Chicago. I’m my own boss now. I get to make the decisions.” He chewed a bite of burger and swallowed slowly before continuing. “At the investment firm, I didn’t remember the names of most of the people I worked with. I talked to my parents every couple days, but I hardly ever saw them. I scheduled time for dates and sex. My focus was on my career above everything else.”

  Like Josh’s focus had been on himself.

  Maybe they’d had more in common than just shared genes.

  “And here your focus is on living a fuller life. Quality versus quantity. You don’t have to schedule dating and sex anymore.” She paused only long enough to grab a handful of Elizabeth’s leash as the puppy stiffened when kids climbed out of a nearby car. “So why aren’t you doing it?”

  His throat required another gulp of root beer before he could speak, and then his voice was hoarse. “Having sex?”

  “Actually, I meant dating,” she said drily, “but the other’s interesting, too. Are you doing it?”

  If he’d been wearing a tie, as he had every day for years, he would have been choking on it. “None of your business.”

  “Mrs. Wyndham thinks you might be seeing a girlfriend when you borrow her car for out-of-town trips.”

  “I thought she wondered if I was gay.”

  Liz shook her head, her curls rippling. “The possibility occurred to her, and she was probably prepared to be very PC and accepting of it if it were true, but she’d prefer to think you’ve got a sweetheart somewhere. Do you?”

  He polished off the last bit of his burger and crumpled the cold fries in the greasy wrapper. “I’ll make you a deal, Liz. I’ll tell you all about my sex life right after you tell me why you’re looking for Josh.”

  For an instant, he thought, she looked tempted, as if one bit of information might be worth trading for the other. Then she shook her head, a wry smile curving her lips. “See, that’s the problem,” she said, parroting his words from earlier that day. “I don’t care about your sex life.”

  For two years, neither had he. This was a hell of a time for things to change.

  And a hell of a person to cause the change.

  Chapter 5

  Friday started out bright and sunny, but by mid-morning, the sky had turned dark. The wind picked up, bringing rain in a gentle fall, exactly what Mrs. Wyndham’s newly planted flowers needed. Liz would have preferred a deluge. She would have kicked off her shoes, gone out into the grass and let it drench her, washing away the edginess and the attraction that was too damn close to becoming something more.

  Important.

  Real.

  Something she didn’t need, didn’t want, wouldn’t have.

  Her windows were open, and she was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, the wicker creaking each time she moved. It was a comforting sound, already growing familiar after so short a time. With her laptop balanced on her knees, she checked her e-mail, let her mother know that she’d be home for a visit at the first opportunity, then signed off to face the photograph of Josh that served as wallpaper.

  He and Joe were identical, right down to the gleam in their blue eyes and the tilt to their smiles, but she’d never had a problem telling them apart, though it hadn’t been the obvious things like personal style. Josh had been cocky, sure of his appeal, comfortable in denim and leather, while Joe had been the poster boy for career success.

  The difference for her had been simpler: Joe attracted her; Josh didn’t.

  Josh had been a job. Joe had been…

  Off-limits, she reminded herself. And nothing had changed.

  Her cell phone trilled, and she glanced at the screen before answering. “Hey, Mika.”

  “Are you enjoying the rain?”

  Liz rolled her eyes. “Do you have the weather report for Copper Lake called up on your computer?”

  “Yes, I do. It’s one of the first things I see when I boot up. Seventy-four degrees and raining. Expected to clear by midnight, with sunshine tomorrow.”

  Another of the first things she saw on the computer, Liz suspected, was the same photograph of Josh that she herself was looking at. Mika’s attention, first and foremost, was the case.

  While Liz kept having trouble remembering it.

  She closed the laptop screen, then set it on the coffee table. “You have anything new for me?”

  “Not really. Thomas Smith arrived in Copper Lake yesterday. He made contact with Joe Saldana, who insisted he doesn’t know his brother’s whereabouts.”

  Liz had met Smith a few times before her team had removed Josh from Chicago. He appeared more organized crime than prosecutor, a seriously tough-looking guy…who’d attended Milton Academy and Yale before graduating from Harvard Law. He was single, a little too smug for her tastes, and had informed her after one meeting that he would have asked her out if he didn’t have a policy against dating feds. Mika, who’d been at the meeting, too, had given him the look that turned most men to stone, but he’d seemed not to notice. Unusual, because men always noticed Mika.

  “He’s staying in Atlanta a few days. One of our people in that office is going to pay Joe a visit. We think it will solidify your story if you’re there at the time, so he’ll coordinate with you first.”

  Oh, good. She so liked playing the role of clingy ex-girlfriend who didn’t know when to leave well enough alone.

  “Have you been inside his house?”

  “Not yet.”

  “What are you waiting for?”

  “Gee, I don’t know. An invitation?” Rising from the sofa, Liz stretched, then padded to the open door. “Why don’t you get a warrant?”

  “We can do that, but since you’re living fifty feet away…”

  Stepping outside onto the porch, Liz gauged the distance between her cottage and Joe’s. Probably no more than a few inches from fifty feet. Did Mika have a satellite photo of the cottages called up on her computer, too?

  “Do you think he would just leave evidence lying around?”

  “No,” Mika conceded. “But law-abiding citizens tend to be clumsy in their attempts to protect their loved ones.”

  Liz wouldn’t exactly describe Josh as Joe’s loved one. He carried a lot of rancor toward his brother. But blood was thicker than water, family first, blah, blah, blah.

  “I’ll see how he feels about company this evening.” It was the action Mika wanted, but it disturbed Liz because she wanted it, too. She would like to see how Joe lived. Was his cottage as bare as her own, or had he truly settled in? Was he messy, neat, in between? Did the lavender house bear any resemblance to the chilly condo where he’d lived in Chicago, furnished by an interior designer and hardly looking lived in?

  She would be happier about it if she didn’t have to worry. So far, their time
together had been pretty public, but she’d still had erotic dreams last night. Alone? In his house? Good cause for concern.

  “Let me know,” Mika said. “And don’t get too distracted.”

  “Distracted?” Liz echoed as she sat on the porch floor, the siding at her back.

  “I know you had mixed feelings about going to Copper Lake.” Mika hesitated. “I know you had mixed feelings about Joe.”

  Which was more astonishing? That Mika was actually getting personal? Or that she’d seen what Liz had been sure she’d kept very well hidden from everyone except Joe? “I don’t know—”

  “I was there when you visited him in the hospital.”

  Liz squeezed her eyes shut. Josh hadn’t seen anything. His parents had been too grief-stricken to notice. Tom Smith hadn’t said anything, and she was pretty sure he would have. Like Mika, his case came first.

  “I’ll stay focused,” she said flatly.

  “I’m sure you will. Call me.”

  “I’m sure I will,” Liz mimicked after she pressed the End button. She flipped the phone shut with a defiant snap, then heaved a sigh. There were easier cases out there. If she could trade this one…

  She wouldn’t. She’d given too much time to it. She’d wound up handcuffed to her bed because of it. She would do her best to find Josh and persuade him to testify, and then she would return to life as normal. The Mulroneys would go to prison, Josh would be in trouble again before she made it home and Joe would know the truth. Would know she’d lied. He would want only to forget, and she would always remember. And wonder.

  The day passed slowly, the rain falling ceaselessly. At five, she changed into a short cotton skirt and a scoop-necked tank. She pinned back her curls and put on makeup, earrings and clunky clogs. Her minimal belongings didn’t include an umbrella or a slicker, so after making a phone call, she tucked her cell into her bag, locked up and did the fifty-foot dash to Joe’s porch.

  There she shook her hair, thinking with a grin that Elizabeth and Bear, both barking now inside the house, would likely have the same reaction to the rain, then she kicked off her shoes. By the time Joe came around the corner at five-thirty, she was sitting in one of his rockers, legs stretched out, feet propped on the porch railing, damp clothes clinging to her skin.