All the Pretty Lies (20 page)

I snap off the lights and start to back out
of the room. Sloane makes a noise. It’s nothing intelligible, like
a word or a name; it’s just a noise. I walk back to stand beside
the bed, looking down at her. I see the space between her body and
the edge of the bed. I might never know what the hell would possess
me to kick off my shoes, slide under the covers and stretch out
beside her, but that’s exactly what I do.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE- Sloane

It’s a good thing it’s my turn to drive to
school this week. Sarah would’ve been quite surprised had she
pulled up in front of my house to get me and seen what a shambles
it is.

“Ohmigod, you can’t be serious!” she exclaims
when I tell her what happened.

“Who’d make that shit up?”

“I don’t know. The mafia. The devil.
Obama.”

I look over at her wide grin. I shake my
head. “No, I’m not making it up. It was…crazy.”

“So how are the brothers Locke this morning?
Are they circling the wagons?”

“Of course. Scout lost the car he was
following. He suspected it might be the one, but we got there just
a little too late to be sure. Steven was working a case, so he was
stuck at work all night. I’m sure he was a lot of fun to be around.
And Sig…well, you know how he is. He’ll probably spend tonight
sitting on the front porch, drinking beer, with a shotgun in his
lap.”

“Grinning.”

“Yeah, grinning. I’m sure he thinks it’s
funny.”

“That boy’s got a messed up sense of
humor.”

“He’s sick. But, you know, if someone had
been hurt, he’d be twice as hard to deal with as Steven. He’s got a
fierce temper when it gets stirred up.”

“Well at least you didn’t have to stick
around for all the drama.”

“And I bet there was quite a bit. I would
love to have been a fly on the wall when Dad told them I wasn’t
staying at the house last night. I bet there was a lot of colorful
language. And I bet not one of them said ‘frick’ even once.”

“Speaking of last night, how long are you
going to pretend it’s no big deal that you spent the night with
Hemi the Hottie?”

“I’m not pretending. Unfortunately, it’s just
true
that it
wasn’t
a big deal. At least not like
you’re thinking.”

“What?” she asks indignantly. “What the hell
is wrong with him? How can a guy like that pass up the perfect
opportunity to get in your pants?”

I have wondered—and worried over—the exact
same thing since last night.

“He didn’t want to take advantage of the
situation. Plus, I fell asleep.”

“You fell asleep? God, Sloane, what’s it
gonna take to fire your lady parts up? Jumper cables and
Vaseline?”

“I kind of had a big day, Sarah.”

“I know, but damn! Look at that guy.”

I sigh, the image of Hemi’s perfect face and
perfect body drifting through my head for the millionth time.

“I know. And you know what the worst part
was?”

“There’s worse?”

I nod. “When I woke up this morning, he was
in bed with me. He was lying on his side, facing me, like he’d
fallen asleep watching over me last night.”

I see Sarah’s mouth drop open.

“Sloane, that’s not the worst part. That’s
the best part! What if this guy really has feelings for you? What
if it’s not just sexual?”

“I wish that were true, but what if it’s not?
What if he’s just lost interest?”

I would be devastated. Just devastated. And
not only if he lost interest, but if I found out that he really
doesn’t
have feelings for me. Not like I do for him.

I’d be heartbroken.

“Sloane, men don’t do things like this for
girls they’ve lost interest in. They smile politely, maybe open the
door for you and then they get the hell out of dodge. Not pack you
up and bring you home with them for the night, then fall asleep
beside you. That sounds like serious shit to me.”

I resist the urge to close my eyes and revel
in her words. And pray that she’s right.

“I hope it is. I guess I’m just afraid to
read too much into it.”

“Why? You’re the one who’s always talking
about spreading your wings and taking chances and experiencing new
things. You can’t do any of that and
not
risk a little
heartache.”

“But what if it’s not a little heartache?
What if it’s like total wreckage?”

“Then you have to squeeze every good minute
out of this that you can so that when you look back, it doesn’t
kill you to remember.”

“That makes no sense whatsoever. You realize
that, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I know. But it sounded good.” Neither
of us says anything for a few miles. It’s not until I’m turning
into the parking lot that Sarah speaks again. “So what’s the deal
now? Are you going back over there?”

“I don’t know.”

“Didn’t he say anything about it this
morning?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t see him.”

“I thought you spent the night wrapped up in
his arms.”

“I did. But he’s…he’s said before that he’s
not the ‘breakfast’ type. I didn’t really know if he’d want to see
me this morning, so I crawled out of bed, took a quick shower and
left.”

“You just left? Just like that?”

“Well, I left a note.”

“That said?”

“’Thank you for keeping me safe’.”

“Damn that’s cold.”

“How is that cold? I didn’t want to make him
uncomfortable. And I didn’t want to look like a pathetic fool.”

“Good point. And maybe it’s best to keep him
guessing. You know, play it a little mysterious.”

I snort. “Yeah, because I’m
verrry
mysterious.”

I think immediately of Sasha. Now
she’s
mysterious. And she’s the kind of girl Hemi likes. The
kind he’s used to. Attracted to. The kind he had breakfast
with.

“Sloane, there’s obviously something about
you that he’s drawn to. Who gives a shit what it is? Just go with
it. Use what you’ve got and play this to the bone. You’ll regret it
if you don’t. I promise you that.”

“Don’t make promises,” I mutter
reflexively.

Sarah sighs. “How did I know you were going
to say that?”

“Because I’m right. And we both know it.”

Removing the key from the ignition, Sarah and
I walk toward the quad. She goes one way and I go the other when
the sidewalk splits.

“See ya in a few,” she says in her chipper
way.

I nod and smile, suddenly losing all
enthusiasm for the day.

CHAPTER THIRTY- Hemi

I can’t decide what’s dumber than shit—going
to see Sloane’s dad or thinking so much about how to talk him into
letting her stay with me. Not that she can’t decide that for
herself, but I don’t want to ask her to stay. I don’t know why, but
I don’t. That would be like admitting too much. To both Sloane and
to myself. I just
can’t
get involved with her. It wouldn’t
be right. But if I were helping her out…doing a kindness to her and
her family…

It occurs to me that nothing I can do will
absolve me of this nagging feeling of guilt. But I’m damn sure
gonna try anyway. I just wish that’s all it was—guilt—that this
gnawing sensation in my gut was
only
guilt and not something
deeper, something more tender. Because that’s a shitload of
trouble. For both of us.

I took a chance that he’d be at the house
today. And it was a good bet, because he’s standing on the front
porch, talking on the telephone when I pull up. I can see a few
remnants of crime scene tape here and there in the yard. My guess
is that there were people milling around here all night long,
getting evidence collected and logged in and processed. This
is
a family of cops after all. And they certainly take care
of their own. Which worries me to some degree.

He wraps up his phone call as I draw
closer.

“Okay, just keep me posted,” he says before
he disconnects his cell phone. “What are you doing here?” he asks
me bluntly. I can appreciate that—someone who doesn’t beat around
the bush, someone who tells it like it is. Most of the people in my
family are like that. Brutal honesty. I like it. Even if I don’t
always give it.

“Thought I’d stop by and see if you’d figured
out what happened. And to tell you Sloane got off to school okay.”
The only reason I know this is because I texted her when I got up
and she replied, saying she was fine, finishing up her second
Thursday class.

“Good. Thank you for keeping an eye on
her.”

“No problem. I’m happy to do it. I like
Sloane.”

Mr. Locke narrows his eyes on me. “I can see
that.” I make no comment. He can think what he wants about my
interest in Sloane. I’m sure, whatever conclusion he draws, it
won’t be wrong. He’s a sharp guy.

“Have you been able to figure out who’s
behind this?”

“Not yet. But we will. You know about the
threats Steven got. I’m sure this is connected.”

“But Steven was working last night,
right?”

“Yeah.”

“So why hit the house when he’s not here, if
he’s the target?”

“Oh it’s a message. And a tool. To get what
they want. What they
think
he has.”

“Which is?”

Again, he narrows his eyes on me. “Nothing I
feel comfortable discussing with you.”

I nod. “I can respect that. Here’s the thing:
I’m thinking that until you and your people get this nailed down,
maybe it would be best if Sloane stayed with me. I’m in a gated
community. I don’t think anyone would single her out, but if they
did, I don’t think they’d look for her there.”

“You’re awfully interested in my family.”

“I’m interested in Sloane. And making sure
she doesn’t get caught in the cross fire.”

“And what do you get out of it?” I see the
accusation and the displeasure in his eyes.

“Just knowing she’s safe.” A surge of guilt
sweeps through me. That is a big part of my reasoning. But there’s
more. “At least until you’ve had time to make some headway with
all…this,” I say, nodding at the various holes in and around his
front door. “I’m trying to be respectful, sir.”

I see his nostrils flare. He doesn’t like it,
but he can’t really argue.

“As she’s so fond of telling me, Sloane is
old enough to decide this for herself.”

“You’re right. I just thought I’d talk to you
about it. And let you pack up a few things for her, things she
needs. Some clothes since she doesn’t have school tomorrow.”

He huffs as he turns toward the house,
opening the front door and tipping his head for me to follow. I do,
stepping into the foyer and closing the shot-up wooden panel behind
me. I’ve been this far before, when I picked up Sloane for the
beach. Nothing is extravagant. Nothing seems out of line with what
a bunch of men, a bunch of cops might have in their house. And I’ve
seen what Steven drives. Again, nothing extravagant. He
had
to have made a shitload of money. So where is it? Either he’s
saving it or I’m wrong.

For the first time in two years, I hope I’m
wrong. I hope my search is still out there, ahead of me. And the
culprit is someone that’s not related to Sloane.

********

I texted Sloane after lunch to tell her that
she was welcome to stay with me until her family got things
straightened out. I’m a little pissed off that she’s not here
already. Even though her only response was to thank me, I assumed
she’d come by after school. I mean, where else is she gonna go? Yet
it’s almost seven, closing in on her normal time to arrive, and I
haven’t heard a word from her.

When the alarm at the front door sounds, I
roll my chair to the right of the desk in the small office, giving
me the perfect angle to see out into the lobby. I see Sloane
passing through, heading straight for the back. I get up and
follow.

I feel the frown working at my forehead as I
cross the studio after her, my irritation building. “Where have you
been?” I ask without preamble.

She turns surprised eyes to me. “What do you
mean? Was I supposed to come in early?”

“I texted you about staying with me.”

“I know,” she says with a small smile. “I got
it. Didn’t you get my response?”

“Yeah, but I figured you’d come here after
school.”

“I didn’t want to bother you while you were
working. I had to go by the house and get some clothes anyway.”

“Didn’t your dad tell you I’d been by?”

“No, he wasn’t there. No one was.”

“Sloane, what the hell were you thinking? No
one was home and you went in anyway?”

“Of course I did,” she says, her eyebrows
drawing together in a frown of her own. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because it’s stupid, that’s why.”

“What’s the matter with you? You’re acting
exactly like one of my brothers.”

“It bugs the shit out of me that you could be
so careless and irresponsible,” I explain, refusing to acknowledge
the way my heart pounds harder just thinking about someone
attacking her while she was there. Alone.

I see her chin come up and I realize that was
the wrong thing to say.

“Luckily, I don’t base every decision I make
on your definition of careful or responsible.”

“Sloane, that’s not what I meant. I
meant—”

“I know exactly what you meant, Hemi, and I
don’t need another brother. Or another father. I have plenty of
people second-guessing my every move and trying to keep me out of
every conceivable path that harm might take. But I’ll tell you like
I told them—I refuse to live my life afraid, Hemi. Refuse! Life is
too short to overthink every single thing because I might get hurt
or it might end badly. I’ll never have a single moment of happiness
if I live that way. I thought you understood. I thought you felt
the same way. What happened to ‘Live, no regrets’?”

“Having fun and being free doesn’t mean you
have to do stupid shit that could get you hurt, Sloane.”