Beneath These Lies (21 page)

I
WOKE ALONE, AND IF
not for the messy bed and the definite soreness between my legs, I would have thought I’d dreamed the whole thing. But it had happened. I replayed every memory as I let the hot water of my shower cascade over me.

Give your man a kiss
.

My man was a criminal. My father was a judge. And very soon, I had to tell the cop who said he wasn’t giving up the fight that he’d already lost.

How had my quiet life become this unrecognizable tangle of craziness?

Toweling dry my hair, I stared at the rumpled sheets of the bed. How had I not woken up when he’d left? Probably because I’d slept better than I had in recent memory while in his arms. Not something I expected in the least.

You sleep in my arms
.

Did that mean he was planning on sleeping here every night? Was I even okay with that? The memories kept replaying on a constant loop as I brushed my teeth, put on makeup, and blow-dried my hair.

Apparently getting lost in the thoughts of amazing sex from the night before wasn’t good for my punctuality, because I arrived at the gallery five minutes after I should have been open. But it wasn’t like there was a line of customers out the door, so no one would ever know.

As I walked inside, a wave of frustration and helplessness washed over me. Trinity should be here today. She should be working with me, and arguing about how to rearrange at least one wall. Instead, I was trusting in Rix that she was safe and he was getting her back. Even though it seemed to be taking a ridiculous amount of time. That’s the funny thing with faith, you don’t get to question if you were going to believe. And if I was believing Rix, I’d have her back soon.

I did. I believed him. I had faith.

And then the front window of my gallery shattered.

Dropping to my knees, I crouched on the floor, covering my face and waiting for the sound of gunshots or screams. But when none came, I blinked open my eyes slowly and turned my head toward the front window. Broken glass covered the old wood floor, and in the middle of it was a brick.

Once I’d pushed up to my feet, I walked on unsteady legs toward it. A piece of paper was wrapped around it, but the writing wasn’t visible. I wanted to touch it, but thoughts of all the cop shows I’d seen over the years stopped me before I reached for it.

Fingerprints. Maybe there were some. I needed a cop.

Obviously, Rhett was the first one to come to mind. The saying
kill two birds with one stone
came to mind, but it seemed less than ideal considering the brick I was staring at.

The shattered front window mocked me as I walked to my desk and pulled my phone out of my purse. I had two calls to make, one to Rhett and the other to the man I could always count on.

My daddy.

Two crime scene technicians collected evidence while one of Rhett Hennessy’s colleagues questioned me about the events of the morning. Was I usually late for work? Did I see anything before the brick came through the window? Did anyone yell anything? Did I hear a car? Could it have been someone on foot? Did I have any enemies or possible motives for someone to vandalize my gallery?

I answered all of his questions patiently, and stumbled over a
not that I can think of
in response to the last question. The fact that Trinity was still missing and I wasn’t able to report it to the cops definitely was at the forefront of my mind. It wasn’t a stretch to think it could be related. Or maybe it was just some random crime. I had no idea.

Rhett had asked his colleague to interview me, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he was avoiding a conflict of interest by not doing it himself. I had to tell him. I had to find my lady balls and woman up, and tell him that nothing was going to happen between us.

But I wasn’t doing it in front of this audience.

A crime scene tech unwrapped the paper from the brick just as my father walked through the front door.

“What the hell happened? Are you okay, baby girl?”

When he rushed toward me, for some reason tears burned in my eyes, and I blinked them away. He was the picture of
dad to the rescue
.

Ignoring everyone else in the room, he pulled me into a hug and squeezed. “You scared the hell out of me. I haven’t told your mother yet because I want to know what’s going on so I can answer her questions.”

Typical Dad, protecting his ladies from anything he could.

I quickly relayed what I knew, which wasn’t much, and my father looked to Detective Fortier.

“So, what do you think?”

The good detective shook my father’s hand. “We’re just starting our investigation, but have no doubt we’ll figure out what happened. Probably just random vandalism. Someone who got started partying a little too early and found a brick to play with.”

“Sir, I don’t think that’s the case,” the crime scene tech said. She was in her mid to late twenties, and had blondish-brown hair and blue eyes.

Detective Fortier crossed his arms. “What do you mean?”

Rhett joined the powwow and looked at the paper she was carefully holding with her latex-covered fingertips. On the paper was a grainy picture with a red slash through it. I didn’t get a clear view of the image until the crime scene tech held it up in front of me.

“Do you know this girl, ma’am?”

My stomach dropped to the floor.
Trinity
. Her hair was a ratty mess—not something she’d ever allow on purpose—and she had a forlorn expression on her face.

Oh my God. I needed to call Rix.

“Isn’t that the girl who works here? The one you’ve been mentoring for years now?” my father asked.

Rhett’s sharp green gaze drilled into mine. “The one that was missing but you said was no longer missing.”

All three men and the two crime scene techs looked at me.

In that moment, I had a choice. I could lay it all out for the cops and put Trinity’s safety in their hands, or I could keep my mouth shut and trust that Rix would get her back. Like right now.

My mouth opened and closed again without words coming out. Finally, I said, “I think this has to be some big misunderstanding. I don’t know why someone would do this.”

Detective Fortier studied me carefully. “If there’s something you know or something you’re afraid of, it’s in your best interest to tell us right now, Ms. Noble.”

My father frowned. “Valentina, what’s going on?”

I opened my mouth to lie to all of them, but both Rhett and his partner’s phones started ringing. Sirens filled the air outside, and my father’s phone started ringing as well. And so did the crime scene techs’.

What in the world?

The people on their phones looked at each other, and everyone froze for a moment before asking rapid-fire questions to whoever was on the other end.

From what I could hear, there was a bomb threat called in on all government buildings in the parish. Police stations, city hall, courthouses, and the like.

Suddenly my little broken window was no longer important.

My father turned to me first. “I’ve already got someone on his way to board up the window, and then I want you to get home. It isn’t safe to be out and about right now. I’m going to get your mother. She’ll want you to come to the house, but you decide what you want to do.”

“I’m fine, Dad. Go do what you need to do. I’m sure whoever you sent will be here in a minute. This is no big deal compared to whatever else is going on out there.”

“Okay, baby. Call me if he isn’t here in five minutes.”

I hugged my dad. “Fifteen minutes. It’s going to be a madhouse of traffic out there.”

Sirens wailed from streets all over the Quarter.

My dad nodded and turned to go. “Call me when you get home too.”

“I will.”

The crime scene techs reached for their gear bags and packed up the evidence. Before it was gone, I snapped a picture of the piece of paper that had been wrapped around the brick. You’d better believe Rix was going to be explaining what the hell was going on.

Rhett and Fortier were wrapping up their calls, and I watched them out of the corner of my eye as I reached for my phone to text Rix.

But there was already a text from him.

R
IX
: I just heard about your window. Sending someone to fix it. Don’t leave until I come for you.

How had he heard?

V
ALENTINA
: Waiting for the repair guy now. My dad sent someone too.

His response was instant.

R
IX
: Be there in 10. Get your company moving out.

So he knew the cops were here too? How did he know that? Seriously, the things Rix knew were creepy. Had he called in the bomb threat to get the cops out of the gallery?

And you’ve officially picked him over the cops.

I’d made my decision. That much was clear. I had a side, and that side wasn’t the right side of the law.

Rix came in the front door, glass crunching under his feet from the pieces I’d missed with my broom. He didn’t stop to look at the window. He didn’t look at anything but me.

“You okay, duchess?” His hand cupped my face as he stared down at me, his silver eyes soft but his jaw muscle clenched.

I nodded. “Just shaken up, I guess. That was a first for me.”

“My guys are just behind me. We’ll get the window boarded up, and get you out of here.”

“Is that going to be secure enough? Or do I need to move the artwork?”

Rix’s thumb skimmed along my jaw. “No one will touch this place. I’ll have people on it 24/7. No one targets you.”

He dropped his hand and I reached for my phone, the picture of the note on the screen. “What the hell is going on?”

Rix’s gaze dropped to the screen, but before I got an answer as to why her picture was with the brick, two young black men walked up carrying large pieces of plywood.

“Later. I gotta go. Shit’s unfolding and I need to be on top of it. I’ll meet you back at your place in a few hours.”

He turned, and I reached out a hand to grab his arm. “That’s it? You’re not going to tell me anything?”

Rix met my concerned gaze. “There ain’t nothin’ you can do right now to help your girl. I’m the one who’s got a lock on that. Get home. Set your alarm. When I’ve got news, you’ll hear it from me in person.”

I cocked a hip, not altogether sold on Rix’s non-informative decree. “And what if I’m not okay with that?”

One move. That’s all it took for Rix to reach out and yank me against him. “Thought we were on the same page, duchess.”

I pressed both hands to his chest. “I’m starting to wonder if we’re in the same story.”

His silver gaze was determined. Unyielding. Possessive. “There’s only one story. The one where you’re mine, and you chose me. You didn’t say jack shit to the cops, and you cemented that choice. I’m gonna protect you and your girl, but I’ll do it my way.”

In my peripheral vision, I could see the men working on the window. Rix must not care about our audience because he didn’t release me.

“We clear now, duchess?”

I wasn’t used to this level of caveman behavior in any man of my acquaintance, but Rix had been different from the beginning. He didn’t ask permission. I wasn’t even clear on whether he asked forgiveness. He wrote his own rules, and instead of being completely put off by that, I was drawn to it like metal to a magnet. Something in me responded to his constant display of confidence.

How a man could be that sure of everything all the time, I didn’t know. But not having to have all the answers and be expected to make all the decisions . . . it freed a part of me. Yet that didn’t mean I didn’t want to have some say, and it surely didn’t change the fact that I wanted to be kept informed.

I broke the stare with Rix and flicked a glance over his shoulder to the men who were already almost finished boarding up the window.

“We’ve got an audience.”

“Don’t care. Just waiting for one word from you, and we’ll be on our way.”

“Okay. I get it.” His grip on my arms loosened, and I added, “But I want you to fill me in on everything when you get to my house.”

His fingers flexed, and I could tell he was frustrated with me.