Living Lies (12 page)

Chapter Thirteen

A muffled pounding thudded behind Paige’s eyes, stretching out through the rest of her body until even her fingertips reverberated. With a groan, she buried her head under the pillow and willed the noise to stop, but the banging continued.

Not morning already, not possible. She felt as if she’d only just fallen asleep minutes ago. Lifting the pillow slightly, she opened her eyes. Hard morning sun seeped through the slats in the blinds, striping the navy bedspread. She rolled and glanced at the clock next to the bed. Eight-thirty. God, she’d only been asleep for four hours.

Her experience on the highway had kept her awake and sitting in the den, watching infomercials, for hours after she got home. Somewhere between an ad for a revolutionary exercise device that looked like a bunch of Bungee cords and another for a microwave omelet maker, she managed to convince herself that she’d imagined the whole thing.

Was it any wonder? Everything in her life right then was about Michelle. And she had been exhausted. Her diet had consisted of little more than cigarettes and coffee. Hallucinating her dead sister on the side of the highway shouldn’t have been wholly unexpected.

She closed her eyes and snuggled deeper under the heavy duvet, waiting for sleep to reclaim her, but the banging didn’t stop. What was that, and why wouldn’t it go away?

Had her mother locked herself out after an early morning trip to the liquor store? No, too early. Maybe the old witch kept a secret stash outside since both Paige and Haley had been watering down the bottles in the den. Not only was it possible, but very likely that her dear mother had gone outside to collect her hidden bottle—from the garage, or under the porch, or buried in the snow—and while she was out there had somehow managed to lock herself outside. Now she beat on the door with one bony fist.

At last the pounding stopped. She’d finally frozen to death. When Paige finally crawled out of bed, she would undoubtedly find her mother on the back stoop dressed in her dirty, pink robe, her colorless hair still matted with sleep, frozen in place with tiny icicles clinging to the tip of her nose and earlobes. One arm would be raised in mid-pound and a bottle of rye tucked under the other. Not a pleasant image.

Paige forced her eyes open and flung back the covers. Her body ached as she stood, her muscles stiff and sore from lack of sleep. A special kind of crappy feeling similar to a hangover. She changed from the silky, gray nightgown she wore to a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt.

“She’s not here.” Her mother’s loud and annoyed voice boomed despite the closed door.

Well, at least she isn’t frozen on the back step.

“She won’t be back until later today,” her mother continued.

“Her car is in the driveway.” Paige cringed at the sound of Erin’s voice. As if she didn’t feel lousy enough, now she had to deal with her sister-in-law.

She opened the bedroom door and stepped into the kitchen. “Good morning.” Though she expected anything but.

“I need to speak to you,” Erin said, her expression ridiculously somber.

“About what?” Paige stifled a yawn and the urge to roll her eyes.

“I need to speak to you,” Erin said again, opening her eyes wide. She tilted her head and nodded toward Claire, bobbing her head like chicken with a stroke. Paige wanted to speak to Erin like she wanted a bikini wax, but the sooner Erin said whatever she’d come to say, the sooner she’d leave.

“Mom, why don’t you go get dressed while I make your breakfast.”

“It’s about time,” her mother muttered. “I thought I’d starve to death before you thought of me.”

Wonderful, the old woman had woken reasonably sober and miserable. Paige took the bread from the fridge and popped a couple of slices into the toaster while Erin stood with her head cocked, listening to Claire climb the stairs. After a few moments, Erin peeked around the corner to make sure she was out of earshot. Satisfied, she turned back to Paige.

“I was at the girls’ gymnastics class when I heard something terrible,” Erin said.

Paige’s hands stilled and she waited for the inevitable, that her father was now a suspect in her sister’s murder.

“I rushed right over as soon as I heard,” Erin continued. “There’s only twenty minutes left in the class so I need to be quick.”

“Just say it.” Her voice sounded flat.

“Someone broke into Haley’s house last night.”

“Oh my God.” Paige turned to face Erin, her insides tight with fear. “Is she all right?”

“Last I heard she was okay. She wasn’t home when it happened.”

Paige relaxed a little. “Was anything stolen?”

“Nothing,” Erin said. Her skin was pale and her eyes wide. “Whoever broke in had left all kinds of candles burning in her room and flowers in her bed.”

“What kind of creep would do that? Did you speak to Haley?”

“No, I haven’t seen her yet. I heard it from Patty-Sue Sullivan. Her brother-in-law was one of the cops who followed up on her call. And as if the break-in wasn’t bad enough, do you know who was with her when she got home, and who was still there when the police left?”

Paige had a sick feeling she did know, but shook her head anyway.

“Dean Lawson.” Erin said. “He seems to have taken a real interest in Haley.”

Paige nodded, only half listening. Anger thick and blinding spilled over her until her hands shook with it.

“She’s usually so down to earth. I can’t imagine why she would have anything to do with him. I would talk to her myself, but I don’t think she’d listen to me. Are you going to talk to her?”

Paige nodded. Oh, she’d talk to Haley all right. Dean may not get the chance to kill her, because as angry as Paige was, she might just do the job herself.

“I’ve got to get back,” Erin said. Her color had returned.

“Fine. Thanks for telling me.”

Erin smiled. “We’re family. We have to look out for each other.”

Again Paige struggled to keep from rolling her eyes. Once Erin had gone, she fed her mother, showered, and dressed in record time.

“I’ve got to go out for a couple of hours,” Paige said, before slipping out the door. Her mother didn’t bother to tear her gaze from the television screen. “I’ll be back before lunch.”

“Don’t hide my car keys again,” her mother snapped, still staring at the flickering box. Paige shook her head and left.

Haley scrambled through the deep snow, barely able to see past the falling flakes. The cold made her shiver and drained her of strength, but stark terror forced her on. Something hunted for her in the dark, hidden behind the fluttery white curtain.

With gasping breaths, she struggled to move faster, but the snow grew deeper, almost swallowing her up to her hips. Half-panting, half-sobbing, she forced her legs forward, each small step costing her precious seconds and strength.

The gurgling snarls of her monster rose above the howling wind. So close. She clawed at the snow, pulling herself free.

As she gained her footing once more, the snow lessened, and through the tiny flakes, her grandmother’s house rose up against the black night like a beacon. Warm yellow light shone from the windows and she knew that if she could make it there, she’d be safe inside.

Hot breath tickled the back of her neck as she clambered up the steps to the porch. She gripped the door handle and pressed down with her thumb, but nothing happened. The door was locked.

Panic welled inside her as she pushed repeatedly on the handle, beating against the door with her fist. She screamed and begged almost incoherently, and all the while the snuffling grunts of the beast chasing her grew louder in her ears.

Suddenly, the door gave, sending her stumbling forward. Michelle stood in the dark hall, pale and drawn. She leveled her empty black eyes on Haley.

“He used to bring me flowers.”

Something sharp dug into Haley’s shoulder—

Haley sat straight up in her bed. Her heart skittered against her chest and an icy sweat slicked her body. A dream. Just a dream. She panted as if something really had been chasing her over some generic snowy expanse.

Clutching her covers tightly to her chest, she looked around the guestroom, memories of the previous night rushing over her. After searching for her sister’s killer and having her house broken into, no wonder she’d had a nightmare.

The candles and rose petals bothered her more than she’d let on. Too intimate and too personal. And too close to receiving the anonymous card and roses.

Should she tell Dean about them? No way, he’d move in if she did. Bad enough he’d insisted on taking up residence on her sofa for the night. No need to encourage him to make the arrangement permanent.

Haley threw back the covers and did her best to ignore the flutter in her belly at the thought. Just because the man was not a psychotic killer, that didn’t make him datable. She was a decade over her adolescent crush, and wouldn’t be falling back into it anytime soon.

Once downstairs, she started the coffee then quietly went to the front door and collected the newspaper from the porch. As she started back to the kitchen, despite her better judgment, she tiptoed nearer to the couch.

Dean lay stretched out on the flattened corduroy, one arm thrown over his head, the other on his chest. In sleep, the lines of his face seemed smoother, more relaxed. His lips parted slightly and again she found herself thinking how nicely shaped they were.

When she had been fifteen, and he had flashed that slightly wicked grin, her insides had quivered. Just as they did now while her gaze drifted over the smooth flat muscles of his chest and followed the line of crisp black hairs between contours of his stomach, until it disappeared beneath the blanket at his narrow waist.

She lifted her gaze back to his face and locked with his smoky green eyes. Oh, crap. Heat instantly burned her cheeks. He smirked and sat up a little.

“I made coffee,” she muttered and turned away, unsure what words were appropriate when caught ogling a man in his sleep.

The coffee had finished brewing when she returned to the kitchen. She could hear the rustle of fabric from the living room as Dean pulled on his jeans.

“Haley,” he said as he came to stand beside her.

“Here’s yours.” She slid a chipped mug with a Gary Larson cartoon on it toward him. “I don’t know how you take it.”

“Black.”

He hadn’t put his shirt on.

“Easy to remember.” She dumped three spoonfuls of sugar into her own mug. “I’m going to clean the mess upstairs, then head to work.” Why did he have to stand so close to her? Like she wasn’t embarrassed enough. His body heat practically radiated from his bare skin. Avoiding his gaze, she moved toward the fridge for the cream.

“Wait a second, would you?” His hand closed over hers. “Look at me.”

She tried to pull her hand away, but he tightened his grip. “Could we not make a big deal about this?”

With his other hand, he cupped her face and tilted her head up. She met his gaze, bright and hungry, before his mouth closed over hers.

Heat pooled low in her belly, her eyes closed as she wrapped her free hand around his neck, pressing herself against the hard length of him. Sinking into him. His lips, the same lips she had fantasized about since she had been a love struck teenager, devoured hers, better than anything she had ever imagined.

“Well, isn’t this a sorry sight.”

Paige’s disdain-filled voice washed over Haley like a bucket of ice water. She stepped away from Dean as he turned around. Paige stood in the dining room, hands on her hips and eyes filled with fury.

“Good morning Paige,” Dean said. “Coffee?”

Chapter Fourteen

Paige practically shook with pent up anger. “Get away from my sister.”

Sensing the impending explosion, Haley moved so she stood in front of Dean. “What do you want Paige?”

“A word, if you wouldn’t mind?”

“Fine.”

Haley followed Paige to the hall by the front door, wishing she didn’t feel like a traitor. She shouldn’t. Dean wasn’t responsible for what happened to Michelle and, hell, she was a grown woman. She could kiss any man she wanted to in her own home. Or anywhere else, for that matter. Still, that didn’t extinguish the guilt that flickered inside her when she saw betrayal in Paige’s eyes.

“I cannot believe you’re sleeping with him.” Paige rounded on her as soon as they were out of Dean’s line of vision.

“Keep your voice down,” Haley snapped with a harsh whisper. They may have been out of sight, but they were no where near out of earshot. “I didn’t sleep with him. He spent the night on the couch because he didn’t want me here alone after my house got broken into.” She gestured to the blanket and pillow lying in a forgotten heap on the sofa.

“How noble. What was that I just walked in on?”

“None of your business.”

“He murdered Michelle,” Paige said, throwing her arms in the air and no longer bothering to keep her voice quiet.

“He didn’t, but we’re close to figuring out who did.” She told Paige everything. The card, the flowers, the break-in and Lara. “I think whoever killed Michelle is feeling threatened.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Paige demanded. “Don’t you find it strange that from the first moment you talk to Dean you start receiving weird little gifts? I mean how is an unsigned card or a bundle of roses threatening? You said yourself that at first you thought they were condolences.”

“I know he had nothing to do with what happened to Michelle.”

“I’m sure the girlfriends of most serial killers say the same thing. Oh wait, no they don’t, because they’re dead!”

“I can’t talk to you about this. You’re being ridiculous.” Haley turned to walk away.

“Think about this.” Paige grabbed her arm, almost desperately. “Your house gets broken into, and then he generously offers to spend the night. He’s playing you, and you’re letting him.”

“He was with me all day yesterday. There’s no way he could have broken into my house.”

“Haley, I remember the way you used to moon over him.”

“I’ve never mooned a day in my life.”

“Oh, you mooned. When Michelle was dating him, she thought it was funny. We all did.”

Heat stole into Haley’s cheeks. God, Paige could be a bitch. Had she actually thought for one second that they could have some kind of relationship?

“I think you should leave.”

“If I knew and Michelle knew, wouldn’t it stand to reason that Dean knew too? You need to ask yourself what he’s hoping to get out of you. The way I see it, the best case, he’s trying to find out what the police know. Worst case, he’s searching for his next victim.”

“I can’t talk to you now.” A slow simmering rage boiled just below the skin. “You need to leave.” She walked away, leaving Paige standing alone.

“You have the worst taste in men,” Paige called then slammed out the front door.

Haley still seethed when she walked into the kitchen. Dean leaned against the counter and drank from the mug, his expression inscrutable, but the tic in his jaw gave away that he’d heard most of what Paige said.

She wanted to pick up where they’d left off. To feel his mouth on hers again, his arms wrapped around her. And to forget.

“Maybe it’s best if we stop all this,” he said, his voice low.

“No,” she told him, and meant it. “I’ve never been so close to finding out what happened to Michelle, and I’m not stopping now.”

“I heard everything.”

Great. “Then you know I think we’re onto something.”

“I know that since I came into your life again someone’s been watching you. And now I’m alienating you from your family.”

She snorted. “My family spends more time alienated from one another than anything else. Until Michelle was found, I hadn’t spoken to Paige in nearly four years.”

“Why is that?”

“It doesn’t matter. The point is, I’m not giving up on this. Whoever killed Michelle took more from me than a sister, and I need to know why. I’ll do this with or with out you.”

He sighed. “Fine. What did you have in mind?”

“I have to go to work today, but while I’m there I’ll try and find out who Sandra is. Maybe you could talk to Lara, find out who persuaded her to keep quiet.”

“I don’t know how far either of us will get.”

“We have to try. They’re the only leads we have.”

He nodded, lifted his coffee to his mouth and drained the mug. When he lowered the cup, a smirk twisted his mouth. “So, you used to moon over me?”

She couldn’t have stopped the blush rushing to her cheeks if her life depended on it. “I suppose it was too much to hope that you hadn’t heard that.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“I stand by the claim that I have never mooned over anyone.”

“That’s too bad. I kind of like the idea.” He bent his head until his lips were only inches from hers.

“You would,” she said, her mouth suddenly dry. “What with your giant ego.”

His lips brushed hers softly, playfully teasing. Her mouth tingled, the sensation spreading throughout her body as he deepened the kiss.

She stepped back. “I need to clean the mess upstairs and get to work.”

“I’ll help you.”

She nodded and waited as he shrugged on his shirt from last night, her gaze on the rippling muscles in his back.

Not mooning. Admiring. Big difference.

The speed at which gossip traveled never ceased to amaze Haley. Yesterday her store had less than a dozen customers all day, today she had that many browsing at any given time.

She knew she was being gawked at. She could feel their gazes on her as she rang in orders and accepted pieces for refurbishing. At times, she caught people whispering out the sides of their mouths or behind their hands, all the while looking at her with a mix of pity and contempt.

As the day progressed, her mild irritation turned to full anger. What business was her life to anyone else anyway? Sometimes she hated this town. What she wouldn’t give to live a life outside the fishbowl. Where her every move, decision or family tragedy wasn’t fodder for town gossip.

By the time Billy arrived to start his shift, she was practically crawling out of her skin. She couldn’t wait to retreat to the workroom, away from the scrutiny and speculation. She still hadn’t had the chance to look into who Sandra was. The sudden surge in business hadn’t left her with the spare time she’d hoped for.

“Busy today,” Billy said, coming behind the counter to stand beside her.

“I’m going to get some work done in the back,” she said, keeping her voice low. “Will you be all right out here on your own?”

“I think so.”

“If you get swamped, let me know and I’ll send Al out to help you.”

“I’ll be better off on my own.”

He probably would be. She nodded then slipped into the back room.

Al, his face hidden behind a respirator, scraped the waxy finish off a large, square dining table. The chemical stink of wood stripper stung her nostrils and burned her eyes. Even with the steel door open to the alley, the frigid air did little to alleviate the heavy fumes.

Haley lifted a respirator from the workbench and fit the molded plastic over her nose and mouth.

“Are these ready?” she asked, pointing to the row of six chairs, seats removed, lined up against the far wall.

“Should be.”

She nodded and took a stack of newspaper from the pile next to bench. As she spread the paper on the floor, a familiar headline from last week’s paper caught her eye. “BODY FOUND.” Instinctively, Haley started to turn the sheet over so the article would be face down as she worked and she’d see only benign advertisements for Christmas savings, but she stopped. The name Sandra stood out from the article as bold to her as the headline itself.

“Brian and Sandra Gallagher, present at the time the remains were discovered, also declined comment.”

That had to be the same Sandra Rhonda had mentioned. Haley fought the urge to do a little happy dance.

With her foul mood forgotten, she rushed back out into the store, yanking off the respirator as she went. She set it on the counter and bent to dig her planner from her purse. She flipped through the pages until she came to where she’d scribbled Dean’s cell phone number that morning.

“Everything okay?” Haley asked Billy, as she dialed. Only three customers wandered through the cluttered aisles. The fewest she’d had all day.

“Fine. Mostly just browsers left.”

“Hello.” At the sound of Dean’s voice, Haley turned away from Billy.

“Hi, it’s me.”

“Hi me, how’s your day?” His deep, almost melodic voice had her stomach tightening. How could five little words have that kind of effect on her?
Stop being stupid, you’re not fifteen, anymore.

She snickered. “It’s been interesting.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Well, actually, business has picked up. I wondered if you might be available for some appearances this time next year.”

“Cute.”

“Anyway, that doesn’t matter, I found Sandra.”

“Where?”

“In an article from last week’s
Gazette
. Her last name’s Gallagher. She and her husband were there when Michelle’s body was found. I’m not sure how we’ll figure out where they live. Maybe I could call whoever wrote the article.”

“They might not tell you anything to protect her privacy. Try the phone book.”

“Have you had any luck with Lara?”

“A woman keeps answering, I’m assuming she’s Lara’s housekeeper, and telling me she’s not home. The woman might be telling the truth. I’ve called three times, pretending to be someone else each time, and got the same answer. This last time, I told her I was from the credit card company, and I needed to speak to Lara regarding some strange activity on her account. I left my cell phone number. Who knows, she might actually call me back.”

“I’ll see if I can track down the Gallaghers.”

“Good. Why don’t I pick you up at the store after you’re done?”

“No need. It makes more sense to meet you at my place.”

He was quiet for a minute. “Make Al walk you to your car.”

“I’m sure he’d be a big help if someone was in the alley waiting for me.”

“Humor me?”

“Fine. I’ll make him walk me to the car,” she lied.

“Good. Call me when you know more.”

“I will.”

After a quick good-bye she hung up and turned around. Nate stood on the opposite side of the counter, his dark eyes boring into her. God help her, not another lecture.

“Let me guess, you’d like to speak to me.” She tried to keep her voice light and even smiled faintly.

He didn’t return her smile, only glared. “Was that him?”

A woman, running her fingers over the smooth surface of a dark wood secretary, glanced over. Her eyes met Haley’s for just a moment then she looked away.

“I don’t have a lot of time for lectures right now. Could we do this later?”

“Your father would be rolling in his grave if he knew what you were doing.”

“I guess not,” she said more to herself. To Billy she said, “I’ll be in the back.”

She didn’t say a word to Nate as she yanked open the door, but she knew he followed. His quick, angry footfalls on the cement floor covered the sound of Al’s scraper on the wood. The air still stunk heavily of chemicals and she’d left her respirator out in the store so she continued out the open back door into the alley.

Nate, perhaps believing she was trying to escape him, grabbed her arm as soon as they were outside. His long fingers sank painfully into her flesh.

“That hurts,” she snapped, wrenching her arm away.

“So is he worth it?” Nate demanded, his face turning red and blotchy.

“Worth what?”

“What you’re doing to your family.”

“What am I doing to my family?”

“Your brother and Erin are worried sick that something will happen to you.”

“I’m sure they are. Who would look after Mother?”

“Why don’t we discuss your mother? What do you think she’ll do when she discovers her youngest daughter is sleeping with the man who murdered her oldest?”

Haley’s insides tightened instinctively at the thought. God help her if some do good neighbor like Mrs. Yolken decided to fill her mother in. Forget it, Yolken could never get past Paige. There were times having a pit bull for a sister helped.

“Dean didn’t murder anyone.”

“He must be a phenomenal lay to be able to manipulate women the way he does.”

The fury simmering just below the surface exploded in her head. “Shut up, Nate. I’m not answerable to you. I don’t need to listen to any of this. Go home.”

“I’m not finished with you.”

“Too bad. I’m finished with you.”

Without a backward glance, she walked into the shop as composed as possible, but her hands shook as she pulled the door closed behind her.

“Hey, I need that open,” Al said, looking up from the table.

“Just wait a few minutes and then you can open the door again.”

She went back out to the store. The eavesdropping lady had gone and so had the secretary.

“Did she buy it?” Haley asked, collecting her respirator from the counter.

Billy nodded, staring at her warily. Did she look as furious as she felt?

“That’s good.”

She slid the respirator into place and went back to the shop. Al had opened the door again, but there was no sign of Nate. Nausea swirled in her belly. How could he have talked to her like that? And how could she have told him to shut up? She got to work on the chairs and tried to push the incident out of her mind.