The Liar

12

The kid was a charmer, entertained and engaged him—and flattered him by insisting on sitting next to him in the booth.

He might have had a moment or two wishing the mother would flirt as overtly as the daughter, but a man couldn’t have everything.

It was a nice break to his day, between the job and the project.

When the manager came out, pulled Shelby from her seat for a hug, he examined his reaction.

Not jealousy, not exactly, but a kind of inner “Careful there, buddy” as he waited to see just what was what.

“I kept missing you.” Johnny Foster, a man with a sly smile and an easy manner, kept his hands on Shelby’s shoulders to take a long look. “But here you are now. Didn’t realize you knew Griff.” Johnny slung an arm over Shelby’s shoulders as he turned to Griff. “Shelby and I go back.”

“My cousin Johnny, here, and my brother Clay used to look for trouble together.”

“And found it as often as possible.”

“You’re cousins?”

“Third, fourth, what is it?” Johnny wondered.

“Third, I think, once or twice removed.”

“Kissing cousins,” he said, and gave her one, lightly. “And you’re Callie, and aren’t you as pretty as a strawberry float. It’s nice meeting you, cousin.”

“I’m on a date with Griff. We’re going to have pizza.”

“This is the place for it. We’re going to find some time and catch up,” he said to Shelby. “All right?”

“All right. Clay said you were manager here now.”

“Yeah. Who’d have thought? Y’all get your order in?”

“Just a minute ago.”

“You watch over there, Callie.” He pointed to the counter where a man in a white apron ladled sauce on dough. “I’ll be making your pizza myself, special. And I’ve got some tricks. Meant to tell you, Griff, whatever y’all did with the furnace worked like a charm. Hasn’t given us any trouble since.”

“Good to hear.”

“Pizza coming up.”

Shelby slid back into the booth. “It sounds like you and Matt are fixing something somewhere all over the Ridge.”

“That’s the plan. The guy who can fix your furnace when the temperatures dive, or your toilet on a Sunday morning when you’ve got people coming to dinner? He’s a popular guy.”

She laughed. “And who doesn’t like being popular? Busy, too. How do you manage to make yourself popular and do all the work on the old Tripplehorn place?”

“Being popular’s the job. The house is the project. I do better with the job when I’ve got a good project going.”

“Mama, look!” Callie bounced in her seat. “The cousin man’s doing tricks.”

“And he’s learned some new ones,” Shelby commented as Johnny tossed up dough, did a quick spin, caught it.

“Looks like we’re having magic pizza.”

Wide-eyed, Callie turned to Griff. “Magic pizza?”

“Pretty sure. Don’t you see that magic dust flying?”

With eyes like blue saucers now, she looked back at Johnny, gasped. “It sparkles!”

The power of a kid’s imagination, Griff thought. “You bet. When you eat magic pizza, it turns you into a fairy princess in your dreams.”

“It does?”

“That’s what I’ve heard. Of course, you’ve got to eat it, then when your mother says it’s bedtime, you’ve got to go right to bed, and wish for it.”

“I will. But you can’t be a fairy princess ’cause you’re a boy. That’s silly.”

“That’s why I’m the prince who slays the fangbeast.”

“Princes slay dragons!”

“I don’t get that.” Playing it up, he let out a sad sigh, shook his head—caught Shelby smiling at him from across the table. “I like dragons. You might be able to squeeze in another wish and get yourself your own dragon. You could fly on him over your kingdom.”

“I like dragons, too. I’m going to fly on mine. Her name’s Lulu.”

“Can’t think of a better name for a dragon.”

“You’ve got a way,” Shelby murmured, and Griff grinned over at her.

“Oh, I’ve got lots of ways.”

“I just bet you do.”

He decided it was the best hour of his day, sitting in the noisy pizzeria, entertaining a little girl and making her mother laugh. He didn’t see why it wasn’t something he couldn’t work into his regular schedule.

Everybody could use some magic pizza now and then.

“This was so nice,” Shelby said when he walked them back to her car. “You sure made Callie’s first date one to remember.”

“We’ll have to have a second. Are you going to go out with me again, Callie?”

“Okay. I like ice cream.”

“That’s a real coincidence—I’m starting to think we’re made for each other. I like ice cream, too.”

She gave him what he could only term a femme fatale smile from under her lashes. “You can take me on a date with ice cream.”

“Now look what you started.” Amused, Shelby hauled Callie up into the car seat.

“How about Saturday?”

Busy strapping Callie in, Shelby glanced back. “What?”

“How about an ice cream date on Saturday?”

“Okay!” Callie bounced in her seat.

“I have to work,” Shelby began.

“Me, too. After work.”

“Well, I . . . I guess. Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t. Don’t forget to make your wish, Callie.”

“I’m going to be a fairy princess and ride my dragon.”

“Callie, what do you say to Griffin?”

“Thank you for the date.” In joyful innocence, she held out her arms. “Kiss.”

“You got it.”

He leaned in, kissed her. Laughing, she rubbed his cheek.

“I like your scratchies. They tickle. Kiss Mama now.”

“Sure.”

He figured she’d offer a cheek, and didn’t see why he had to settle. A man could move fast without seeming to, especially when he’d thought it through.

He set his hands on her hips, glided them up her back with his eyes on hers. He watched hers widen in surprise—but not protest. So he went with it.

He dipped down, took her mouth with his as if they had all the time in the world. As if they weren’t standing on the sidewalk of High Street, seen by anyone who passed by or glanced out a window.

It wasn’t hard to forget where they were when her body melted against his, with her lips, warm and soft, yielding.

Her mind just emptied, every thought—past, present, future—flooding away as sensation flooded in and swamped her. Her body went limp even as it leaped to life. Her head spun in long, lazy circles as if she’d had just a sip too much of good wine.

She smelled soap and skin and the hyacinths in the whiskey barrel across the sidewalk. And heard what she realized later was the hum of pleasure in her own throat.

He let her go as smoothly as he’d taken her. His eyes stayed on hers again, watchful.

“I thought so,” he murmured.

“I . . . just . . .” She realized she couldn’t quite feel her feet, had to fight the urge to look down to make sure they were still there. “Have to go.”

“See you later.”

“I . . . Fingers on noses, Callie.”

Callie put her fingers on her nose. “Bye, Griff. Bye!”

He waved as Shelby closed the door, hooked his thumbs in his pockets when she walked around to the driver’s side. And couldn’t stop the grin when she staggered, just a little.

He waved again when, after some fumbling, she started the engine, pulled away.

Yeah, definitely the best hour of his day. He couldn’t wait to do it again.

• • •

SHE DROVE HOME with extra care. She really did feel as if she’d had a bottle of wine instead of a glass of Coke with her pizza. And that hum kept wanting to come back to her throat, a kind of echo to the butterflies dancing around in her belly.

Callie started nodding off on the short drive home, the excitement of the day taking its toll. But she perked up again, a little on the hyper side, when Shelby parked.

She’d let her daughter run down again, she thought. It wouldn’t take long. And she had to be coherent, put all this business aside. She didn’t have time for flutterings or hummings.

Shelby didn’t have to do much more than listen as Callie frantically relayed the details of her date to her grandparents.

“And we’re gonna have an ice cream date on Saturday.”

“Is that so? Well, this sounds pretty serious.” Ada Mae shot Shelby a speculative look. “Maybe your granddaddy should ask this boy his intentions.”

“And his prospects,” Clayton added.

“I’m their chaperone,” Shelby said cheerfully. “Oh, I saw Johnny Foster. Didn’t have much time to talk to him as they were busy. He’s the one who tossed the dough. He made the magic pizza, right, Callie?”

“Uh-huh, and Griff said I can ride a dragon, and he’s going to kill the . . . what is it, Mama?”

“I think it was a fangbeast.”

“He’s gonna kill it dead, and then we’ll get married.”

“That must’ve been some pizza,” Clayton commented.

“You can be the king, Granddaddy, and Gamma’s the queen.” She ran in circles around the room, twirling, jumping. “And Clancy can come, too.” She threw her arms around the old dog. “And I’m going to wear a beautiful dress, then it says kiss the bride. It tickles when Griff kisses, doesn’t it, Mama?”

“I—”

“Does it?” Now Ada Mae wore a smug smile.

“Uh-huh. When is it Saturday, Mama?”

“Soon enough.” Shelby caught Callie on the fly, gave her a spin. “Now we’re going up. You need your bath before you go dreaming and getting married to handsome princes.”

“Okay.”

“Go on up, put your clothes in your hamper. I’ll be two seconds. She had the best time,” Shelby said when Callie ran for the stairs.

“How about you?”

“It was nice. He’s so sweet with her. But what I wanted to tell you both is right before dinner, I got a call. The house sold.”

“The house?” Ada Mae looked blank for a moment, then plopped down in a chair as her eyes filled. “Oh, Shelby, the house up North. I’m so glad. I’m so glad of that.”

“Happy tears.” Shelby pulled out one of the tissues always in her pocket. “I did the same. It’s such a burden lifted.” She turned into her father when he stepped over, folded her into his arms, rocked her side to side. “I thought I knew how much it weighed, since I’ve been carrying it. But now that it’s lifted, it was heavier than I thought.”

“We can help you with the rest of it. Your mama and I talked it over, and—”

“No, Daddy. No. Thank you so much. I love you.” She laid her hands on his cheeks. “I’m doing it. It’s going to take a while, but I’m doing it, and doing it feels good. It balances out, some, all the times I just let things go, stopped asking questions, let somebody else take care of everything.”

She leaned against him, smiled at her mother. “And the worst of it’s behind me now. I can deal with what’s ahead. I’m so grateful to know if it gets too heavy again, I can ask.”

“Don’t ever forget that again.”

“I swear it. I’ve got to get my baby in the tub. I had a good day,” she said as she pulled back, hauled up her bag. “I had a real good day.”

Once she’d tucked Callie in, she sat down with her spreadsheet. She should probably wait until settlement, but she thought she had every right to be optimistic. When she balanced the sheet with the sale, she shut her eyes, just breathed.

It was still a painful debt, but oh God, she’d cut it down to size.

The worst, she thought again, was over. And what was ahead?

She lay back on the bed, called Emma Kate.

“How was pizza?”

“It was magic, or so Griff convinced Callie, so she went to bed with a big smile and the anticipation of being a fairy princess riding a dragon. Before she and Griff get married with all due pomp and ceremony.”

“He’s got a way with kids. I think he’s got a lot of little boy left in there.”

“He kissed me.”

“Was that magic, too?” Emma Kate asked without missing a beat.

“My brain’s still soft. Don’t tell Matt my brain went soft. He’ll tell Griffin, and I’ll feel like an idiot. I don’t know if it’s because it’s been so long since I’ve had a serious kiss, or if he’s just that damn good at it.”

“I’ve heard he’s damn good at it.”

Shelby smiled, curled up. “Did your brain go soft the first time Matt kissed you?”

“It liquefied and leaked out of my ears. Which sounds disgusting, but was anything but.”

“I feel so good, so good I’d forgotten how it feels to feel so good. I just had to call you. I sold the house, and got kissed brainless on High Street.”

“You— Oh, Shelby, that’s great! On both counts, but shedding that house. I’m so happy for you.”

“I’m starting to see my way clear, Emma Kate. I’m really starting to see a clear path. Some more bumps to get over, but I see the clear.”

And part of the clear was being curled up on her bed talking to her best friend.

• • •

THE GOOD DAY ROLLED into a good week. She could savor the sensation of being happy and productive, of earning her way.

She mopped floors, filled dispensers, booked appointments, rang up sales, listened to gossip. She commiserated when Crystal complained about her boyfriend, comforted Vonnie when the masseuse’s grandmother passed peacefully in her sleep.

She set up chairs and tables in the little back garden area of the day spa, potted up some flowers.

After checking out the preschool where Chelsea would go come fall, she enrolled Callie. And felt the pride and the pang of what she knew would be the first of many layers of separation.

She had ice cream with Griff and discovered the second kiss could be as powerful as the first. But she hedged when he asked her out to dinner.

“It’s just my time’s so budgeted right now. I’ve got a routine going at the salon, so I’m easier there. But until I sing Friday night, see how that goes, I’m using up my free time rehearsing and planning for the next week.”

“After Friday.” He laid out the elements that would heat the tile floor of the new bathroom. “Because it’s going to go great.”

“I hope so. Maybe you could come by Bootlegger’s on Friday for a set.”

He sat back on his haunches. “Red, I wouldn’t miss it. I like listening to you rehearse in the shower.”

“I’m heading out right now to rehearse in place before the bar and grill opens. I hope Tansy’s right about people wanting to hear somebody sing old songs while they’re eating their pork chops or scooping up nachos.”

She pressed a hand on her belly. “We’re going to find out.”

“Nervous?”

“About the singing? No. I don’t get nervous about singing, it feels too good. About the draw not justifying what they pay me. I’m nervous about that. I’ve got to get on. It’s looking good in here.”

“It’s coming along.” He smiled at her. “Let’s make the word of the day ‘gradation.’ One step at a time.”

“Mmm,” she said, understanding he wasn’t just talking about a new bathroom.

• • •

SHE SQUEEZED IN A LAST REHEARSAL Friday morning, and ordered herself not to think about what she could do with the songs if she had a couple of live musicians.

Still, she thought she put a little of her own spin on the old classic “As Time Goes By.”

“Play it, Sam,” Derrick said from behind the bar.

“Of all the gin joints in all the world.”

“Are you an old-movie fan?”

“My daddy is, so we had to be. And who doesn’t love Casablanca? How’d that sound to you, Derrick?”

“It sounded like Tansy had it right. We’re going to rack them, stack them and pack them on Friday Nights.” Restacking glasses freshly cleaned from the night before, he cocked an eyebrow at her. “How do you feel about it?”

“Hopeful.” She stepped down off the tiny stage. “I just want to say, if it doesn’t pull in a big draw, if it just doesn’t work, it’s not a problem.”

“Are you setting up to fail, Shelby?”

She cocked her head, walked toward the bar. “Forget what I just said. We’re going to kick ass so high here tonight, butts’ll be landing on the moon, and you’re going to be obliged to give me a raise.”

“Don’t get carried away. Want a Coke?”

“Wish I had time for one, but I have to head over to the salon.” To be sure she wasn’t already late, she tipped her phone out of her pocket to check the time.

“Tonight should bring people in, just to see,” she said. “There’s me, the girl who wasn’t there for a while, and all the hyping Tansy’s done. Flyers everywhere, and I’m plastered all over your Facebook page. Hell, my family’s big enough to be a crowd, and a lot of them will be here. That’s something.”

“Kick ass high.”

“Kick ass high,” she agreed. “I’ll see you tonight.”

She walked out, distracted, still rehearsing in her head. She barely noticed the woman who fell into step beside her until she spoke.

“Shelby Foxworth?”

“Sorry.” She’d gotten used to “Pomeroy” again in such a short time she nearly said no. “Yes. Hello.”

She stopped, smiled and searched her memory banks. But the stunning brunette with the cold brown eyes and the perfect red lips didn’t ring any bells.

“I’m Shelby. I’m sorry, I don’t recognize you. Who are you?”

“I’m Natalie Sinclair. I’m Jake Brimley’s wife. You knew him as Richard Foxworth.”

The half-smile stayed on Shelby’s face as the words sounded like a foreign language to her ears. “What? What did you say?”

Something feline moved into the woman’s eyes. “We really need to talk, somewhere more private. I saw a cute little park not far. Why don’t we go there?”

“I don’t understand. I don’t know any Jake Brimley.”

“Changing a name doesn’t change who you are.” Natalie reached into a pale blue handbag, drew out a photograph. “Look familiar?”

In the picture the brunette was cheek to cheek with Richard. His hair was longer than he’d worn it, a bit lighter. Something was different about his nose, Shelby thought.

But it was Richard smiling out at her.

“You—I’m sorry—are you saying you were married to Richard?”

“No. Wasn’t I clear? Let me say it again, in case you have trouble understanding. I was, and am, married to Jake Brimley. Richard Foxworth never existed.”

“But I—”

“It’s taken me quite a while to track you down, Shelby. Let’s have a chat.”

Brimley was not one of the names she’d found in the bank box. My God, had he had another? Another name. Another wife.

“I need to make a call. I’m going to be late for work.”

“Go right ahead. It’s a quaint little town, isn’t it? If you go for gun racks and camo.”

And didn’t she sound just like Richard? “There’s also art.” Shelby bit off the words. “Music, tradition, history.”

“No call to get testy about it.”

“People who consider us hicks are generally self-important snobs from somewhere else.”

“Ouch.” Looking amused, Natalie gave a quick shudder. “Struck a nerve.”

Rather than try to explain what was going on in a call, Shelby texted her grandmother, apologized, let her know she’d be a little late.

“Some people like quaint. I’m a city girl.” Natalie gestured toward the crosswalk, began to walk in gorgeous heeled sandals of pale gold. “So was Jake. But you didn’t meet Jake here.”

“I met Richard in Memphis.” Everything seemed just a little blurry. “I was singing with a band during my summer break from college.”

“And he just swept you away. He was good at that. Exciting, charming, sexy. I’ll bet he took you to Paris, a little café on the Left Bank. You’d stay at the George Cinq. He bought you white roses.”

A raw, ugly sickness roiled in her stomach—and must have shown on her face.

“Men like Jake have patterns.” Natalie patted Shelby’s arm.

“I don’t understand. How can you be married to him? I mean, he’s dead, but how could you have been married to him? We were together for over four years. We had a child together.”

“Yes, that was a surprise. But I can see how the family unit could work for him. I had the poor judgment to marry him—whirlwind to Vegas. Sound familiar? And I had the good sense not to divorce him when he left me in the lurch.”

It dropped on her, a single crushing weight. “I was never married to him. That’s what this means. That’s what you’re saying.”

“Since he was still legally married to me, no, you weren’t ever married to him.”

“And he knew.”

“Of course he knew.” Now she laughed. “What a bad boy! Of course, that’s part of the appeal. Such a bad, bad boy, my Jake.”

The park held quiet. No kids on the swings or teeter-totter, none running over the green, climbing on the jungle gym.

Natalie sat on a bench, crossed her legs, patted the space beside her.

“I wasn’t sure if you realized that part and played along. It seems he duped you. But then, that’s what he does.” For an instant something that might have been sorrow flickered over Natalie’s face. “Or did.”

“I can’t think.” Shelby lowered to the bench. “Why would he do this? How could he do this? Oh my God, are there any more? Did he do this to another woman?”

“I couldn’t say.” Natalie gave an easy shrug. “But since he swung pretty quick from me to you, I don’t think there’s another wife in between. And that’s the time I’m interested in.”

“I don’t understand.” Suddenly breathless, Shelby sat back, pushed both hands through her hair, held it back a moment. “I can’t understand any of this. I was never married,” she said slowly. “It was all fake, just like the ring.”

“You lived pretty well for a while, didn’t you?” Natalie angled to her, aimed a look of contempt. “Paris, Prague, London, Aruba, Saint Bart’s, Rome.”

“How do you know all that? How do you know where I went with him?”

“I made it my business to know. You had a luxury condo in Atlanta, country clubs and Valentino dresses. Then the mansion in Villanova. You can’t claim he didn’t give you plenty. Seems to me you had a good deal.”

“A good deal? A good deal?” Not breathless now, not when insult and fury rolled through. “He lied to me, right from the start. He made me his whore without my knowing. I thought I loved him. At first, I thought I loved him enough to leave my family and everything I knew and thought I’d wanted.”

“Your mistake, but you were compensated. Plucked you out of this little hick town, didn’t he? Oh, excuse me, this art-and-culture-ridden town. Dropped you right in the lap for a few years, so don’t whine, Shelby. It’s unattractive.”

“What’s the matter with you? You come here, tell me all this. Maybe you’re the liar.”

“Check it out, be my fucking guest. But you know I’m not lying. Jake had a way of making women fall for him, and do what he wanted.”

“Did you love him?”

“I liked the hell out of him, and we had a damn good time. That was enough, would’ve been enough if he hadn’t hung me out to dry. I made an investment in him, you could say. And I paid a high price. I want my payoff.”

“What payoff?”

“Twenty-eight million.”

“Twenty-eight million what? Dollars? Are you crazy? He didn’t have anywhere near that kind of money.”

“Oh, he had it. I know because I helped him get it. Just shy of thirty million in sparkly diamonds, emeralds, rubies, sapphires and rare stamps. Where is the take, Shelby? I’ll settle for half.”

“Do I look like I have diamonds and emeralds and all that? He left me in debt up to my eyeballs. That’s the price I’m paying for believing him. What did you pay?”

“Four years, two months and twenty-three days in a cell in Dade County, Florida.”

“You—you were in prison? For what?”

“For fraud, since I rolled like an acrobat on Jake and Mickey. That’s Mickey O’Hara, the third member of our happy little band. Mickey’s got twenty years to go, last I heard.”

Smile sharp and derisive, she ticked her finger at Shelby. “You don’t want Mickey O’Hara coming after you, Shelby. Take my word on that.”

“You hired that private investigator to hound me.”

“I can’t say I did. I do my own investigating—it’s one of my skills. Half, Shelby, and I’m gone. I earned every penny of it.”

“I don’t have half of anything to give you.” Shelby lurched to her feet. “Are you saying Richard stole millions of dollars? That the detective from Florida was telling me the truth?”

“It’s what we do, sweetheart. Or in his case, what he did. Find the mark. Rich, lonely widows worked best for Jake. He could turn them into putty in a matter of days. Easy to get them to ‘invest’ in a land deal—that was his specialty. But the big one, the biggest of our career, the one that went wrong, that was jewels and stamps, and she had some beauties. If you expect me to buy that you knew nothing about nothing, you’re not selling it.”

“I’m not selling a damn thing. If he had all that, why am I paying off his debts?”

“He always was a bit of a hoarder. And those jewels were hot. The stamps? You’d need to find just the right collector for them. When it went south, Jake could take off with them, but if he’d tried to sell them, even breaking the jewelry down to the stones, they’d have tracked him. Something like that, it’s best to give it a few years, lay low.”

“Lay low,” Shelby murmured.

“That was the plan. Four or five years, we figured, before we could liquidate and retire. Or semi-retire, as who wants to give up all the fun? You were his cover, that’s clear. But you’re going to have to go a ways to convince me you’re stupid enough to know nothing.”

“I was stupid enough to believe him, and that’s what I’m going to be living with.”

“I’ll give you some time to think about it. Even if you’re the driven snow, Shelby, you lived with the man for more than four years. You think about it hard enough, you’ll figure out something. Consider half of close to thirty million—maybe a little more now—motivation.”

It was Shelby’s turn for contempt. “I don’t want half of anything you stole.”

“Your choice. Turn your part in, take the finder’s fee if you’re delicate. It’d be fat enough to pay off some of the debt you’re swimming in. Like I said, I get what’s mine, I’m gone. If you want to stay in this little nowhere town, working in your grandmother’s beauty parlor for peanuts, singing on Friday nights in a bar for rubes? Your choice. I get what’s mine, you keep what’s yours. You’ve got that pretty little girl to think about.”

“You go near my daughter, you think about going near my daughter, I’ll take you apart.”

Natalie just looked over the side of her shoulder, lips curved. “Do you think you can?”

Shelby didn’t think; she acted. She reached down, hauled Natalie to her feet by fisting a hand on the front of her blouse. “I can, and I will.”

“That’s what caught Jake’s eye. He liked some fire, even in a mark. You can relax. I’m not interested in little girls or in going back in a cell. Fifty-fifty, Shelby. If I bring Mickey in on this, you’ll get nothing but pain and heartache. He’s not as civilized a negotiator as I am.”

She shoved Shelby’s hand off her blouse. “Think about it. I’ll be in touch.”

Because her legs wanted to shake, Shelby sat on the bench again when Natalie strolled away.

Twenty-eight million? Stolen jewelry and stamps? Bigamy? Who in God’s name had she married? Or thought she married?

Maybe it was all a lie. But what would be the point?

But she’d check, check all of it.

She pushed to her feet, pulled out her phone as she walked to call Tracey and check on Callie.

By the time she got to the salon she was fired up again.

“I’m sorry, Granny.”

“What kept you? And put the wrath of God in your eyes?”

Shelby shoved her purse under the front counter. “I need to talk to you and Mama, soon as you’re both free. I’m sorry, Mrs. Hallister, how are you doing today?”

The woman in Viola’s chair—that Hallister boy’s grandmother—smiled. “I’m doing right well. I came in for a touch-up, and here Vi’s talked me into highlights. Let’s just see if Mr. Hallister notices.”

“It’s nice, brightening things up for spring. Granny, I’ve just got to make a quick call, then I’ll check supplies.”

“Towels should be ready to fold.”

“I’ll see to that.”

Over the shop talk they exchanged a look. Viola nodded, and held up a hand behind the chair back. Five minutes.

Shelby went back into the laundry and supply room, and called her brother Forrest.