Tell Me No Lies (19 page)

“Bailey.” Ridge stepped forward, taking her hand in his. “You look wonderful.”

He was right—if you liked tanned, well-dressed, and classy.

Bailey pulled her hand from his and faced me, more like a mother protecting her young than a rival for a man’s attention. “Tessa,” she said coolly, her eyes running deliberately over my jeans and T-shirt.

I matched her ice. “Bailey.”

“I see you two have met,” Ridge said.

“We’ve had that pleasure. So, what brings you to our illustrious police station, Tessa?” Bailey showed teeth as she smiled, which may have added a touch of politeness if she hadn’t looked like a big cat ready to pounce.

“I’m trying to find out who really killed Skeet Thompson,” I said, more flippantly than I would have if she hadn’t rubbed me the wrong way.

She nodded, not showing surprise. “Why?”

“Because Gage didn’t do it.”

Again no surprise in her face, and that told me she’d believed in his innocence all along. Of course, if they’d been close, she would have known better than I did what kind of a man he was. Why hadn’t she fought for his freedom then? Or encouraged him to fight? “It’s been a long time,” she said. “Why stir it up now?”

“Because it’s eating him alive.” I knew it to be true as the words left my mouth. Not knowing what had happened that night, or the role he and Mia had played, was something impossible for him to get past.

An emotion akin to sorrow moved across her face. “He’ll forget eventually.” It was a promise, and I knew instinctively it didn’t include me but rather her own plans for Gage’s future. I felt my mental claws come out. Funny how I had the urge to protect Gage from Bailey when she so obviously intended to help him. Sometimes life wasn’t very fair—or fun.

Still, in my view, she and everyone in this town was a suspect, and Mia must have felt the same because Bailey had been on her list. “How long have you known Gage?” I asked, aware that Ridge and Bailey were now giving each other looks that indicated impatience. Whatever the reason for their meeting, they wanted to get on with it.

“Since high school,” Bailey said.

“You moved here then? From where?”

“California.” She cast a quick glance at Ridge, who sent her a reassuring smile.

“I met your brother yesterday,” I said. “We almost had to call Ridge. He was waving a gun.”

The comment caused Bailey discomfort, if her frown was any indication. “Charlie wouldn’t hurt anyone. He was trying to protect me.”

“Charlie’s back?” Ridge asked.

“That’s part of what I wanted to talk to you about.” Bailey’s mouth tightened over the words.

Ridge’s eyes darkened. “Is he drinking?”

“Seemed like it to me,” I said when Bailey didn’t reply.

“You know he’s had a hard life,” Bailey said to Ridge, acting as if I hadn’t spoken, as if I weren’t even there. “I have to help him. I owe him.”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean he can come here and do whatever he likes.”

She nodded. “Will you talk to him?”

“Of course.”

It was a conversation I’d bet had been played out more than once: Bailey coming to Ridge for help with her troublesome brother, and Ridge, the dedicated cop with his heart in his eyes, coming to her rescue. Apparently, he was good at rescuing people in distress—Mia, Bailey, me, and likely a host of nameless strangers. But not even he had been able to help Gage.

“Thank you.” Bailey’s eyes lowered, but not before I caught a glimpse of real gratitude. Whatever her feelings for Ridge, she cared about her brother as much as he apparently cared for her. I found myself liking her for that despite everything else. “I didn’t know who else to go to.”

“You did the right thing.”

She gave Ridge a brilliant smile that had no trace of the predator she’d showed me. “Can you come now?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll never be able to repay you.”

I knew how she could repay him, and so did he—to look at him for once as a man instead of a police officer—but neither of us would say it. I suspected Ridge was a lot better off because Bailey didn’t strike me as good wife material for an officer, especially one as dedicated to his job as Ridge. She liked bending rules, or perhaps doing away with them altogether, while he would follow them rigidly or pay a heavy price in guilt.

They started to leave, but Ridge remembered I was still there before he’d finished his first step. He paused and faced me. “I appreciate you coming in, and like I said before, I am going to get to the bottom of whoever sent that note. I promise you Mia will be safe.”

There was a question in Bailey’s eyes, but she didn’t give it voice. “Thank you,” I said, and watched them go.

Bailey cast a final stare over her shoulder—a silent challenge. I met her gaze without flinching, but when they were gone, I walked slowly out to the car, limping slightly and feeling as if I’d been through a battle. The muscles in my right calf had seized up on me in apparent protest, my heart hurt, and I was feeling really dumb about how I’d handled everything—from my breakup with Julian to this interview with Ridge. And especially my blowup with Gage.

I remembered now how Gage had tried to protest about the money at the diner when I’d first mentioned it. At the time I’d thought he’d been trying to elicit more, but quite possibly he’d only agreed to because I was so insistent. Still, that didn’t explain why he’d gone to such lengths to help me, even to the point of suddenly taking the day off work and endangering his job. I shivered when I remembered the man from the night club and how easily Gage had disarmed him. What if I’d been alone looking for someone to sign my insane contract?

I drove half-heartedly around town before admitting to myself that I had no place else to go but Mia’s. I wondered if I’d be welcome. Maybe Gage would drive me to the nearest car rental place, and I could be out of his life.

No, I wasn’t leaving. I was going to see this through. Gage had helped me, and maybe I could help him back. Mia’s talk of a private investigator had given me an idea of my own.

Pulling over to the side of the road, I pushed my grandfather’s attorney’s number. He picked up almost instantly. “Mark Carson.”

“Hi, Mark, it’s Tessa Crawford again. Look, I need a big favor really quick, and I’m hoping you have the contacts. I know it’s Saturday, but I need to find out everything I can on a Bailey and Charlie Norris. Siblings. She’s probably thirty or thirty-one. He’s a year or two younger, I think. They moved to Kingman from California with their mother when they were in high school. She’s been here ever since, but he served in the navy. I think their dad died, or something, and they had relatives here. I particularly want to know if there’s any connection between them and a guy named Skeet Thompson, who was murdered in Kingman seven and a half years ago.”

“Skeet Thompson—got it. Is this related to whoever tried to find out about your trust fund beneficiary?”

“I’m not sure. But this woman knows that my husband was convicted for a crime he didn’t commit, and I want to know why she didn’t try to help him.”

“You know I have to pay the investigator—if I can find one available this late on a Saturday. Monday would be a better bet, if it can wait.”

“It really can’t. Is it going to cost a lot?”

“A few hours’ research time at least. I’ll convince him to give you a discount.”

“Mark, if I ever become rich—and that’s a big if since my dad is likely to disinherit me completely—I promise I’m going to move all my business to your firm.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

I was smiling when I hung up. I really liked that man. No wonder my grandfather had trusted him and his firm. Given Mark’s age, which I knew to be in the mid-thirties, my grandfather had likely worked with Mark’s father or grandfather before Mark, but helpfulness must run in the family.

Thinking of my grandfather made me remember his funeral while I was still in high school. How sad I’d been. Despite the heat of the day, I wished I’d brought the quilt my grandmother had made me because I’d curl up into it and feel his comfort—and hers, though I couldn’t remember her. “I’ve made a mess of everything, Grandfather,” I whispered, “but I’m going to fix it. I’ll try to make you proud.”

I drove back to Mia’s, taking a few wrong turns along the way but eventually finding the house and the green yard, which stood out like an oasis in the desert. How much of the land behind the house did they own? If Gage was cleared, maybe he would build a house there and raise a couple of children.

With Bailey? I hated the idea.

Gage was cutting the grass when I drove into Mia’s driveway, parking the Jeep in front of the closed garage. I climbed out rather sheepishly. He killed the motor and strode toward me, his eyes wandering over my face and body, as though searching for signs of a wound. Tenderness filled me. He’d been good to me, and I’d been ungrateful.

“You okay?” he asked, as he saw me limping.

“Just a little sore. Sorry about earlier.”

“It’s okay. So where’ve you been? Out driving? I do that sometimes.”

I started to nod but realized I didn’t want to lie anymore. “I was at the police station.”

“Why?”

“Because I think you’re innocent.”

A flush rose in his face. “You have to stop. I don’t want Mia dragged into this again.”

“She’s already in this. Someone’s threatening her.” I hadn’t meant to tell, but it wasn’t right to keep it from him.

His face stilled, the color leaking from it as fast as it had come.

“Mia’s much stronger than she was seven and half years ago,” I continued. “She’s been looking into the murder, researching people’s backgrounds, and asking questions. Someone put a threatening note in her mailbox.”

“Where is it?” His hands fisted at his side.

“I convinced her to give it to the police, but I don’t know how seriously they’re taking it.”

“What did it say?”

I shrugged. “I don’t remember the exact words, but it said something about justice already being done, and if she didn’t want worse trouble than she’d gotten with Skeet, she needed to leave it alone. That’s why she’s been so scared.”

He turned from me and headed for the front stairs, bounding up them two at a time. I knew he was going to find Mia.

“Wait!”

He turned. Everything about him was taut, power seething under tight control. How controlled I had no idea.

“There’s more,” I said.

“What.” It was nearly a growl.

“Bailey knows you’re innocent, and I think Ridge does, too—and so do I.”

Something blazed in his eyes, but I couldn’t tell if it was because I believed him or because Bailey did.

Just as suddenly the something was gone. “It’s over,” he gritted. “Over. I won’t have Mia going through that again. I won’t have Dylan hurt.”

“So it’s okay to protect them, but they can’t protect you?” I hurried up the stairs. “Sorry, Gage, that’s not how it works. Like it or not, you helped me, and I’m going to do everything in my power to help you. Someone else was there that night, whether you believe it or not!”

“It’s none of your business!”

“So my running off to marry someone in Vegas is your business, but your taking the blame for a murder you didn’t commit to save your sister, who didn’t commit it either and has done nothing to be ashamed of, isn’t mine?”

“There’s no reason to bring it all up. It won’t change the past. It won’t change the six years I spent in prison.”

“No, but it will change your future, and Dylan and Mia’s futures. Your children’s future.”

His jaw clenched, and he swallowed noticeably. “I’m not having children.”

“See?” We were standing close together. “You will never have a child to take camping, a wife to love and care for.”

“I have Dylan and Mia.”

“Only if you’re in disguise. Only if no one else is around.” I was angry, more angry than I had a right to be. “If it’s worth having, you have to fight for it, Gage. Or someday it will be too late.”

His nostrils flared, and his face flushed with emotion—anger, frustration, and something more. His pulse beat in his neck, and the pounding in my heart echoed it. I wanted to tell him to fight for us, as much as he’d fought for Mia. Or maybe I should tell him to fight for Bailey. The thought hurt more than I would ever admit.

His eyes held mine. Deep, green, endless. I was afraid he’d see the truth there, so I dragged my eyes away, followed the straight nose to his square jaw and up to his left cheek and the web of tiny scars that were barely visible under the hair that had fallen forward over his face. I wanted to ask him how he got the scars, to trace each one with the tip of my finger—or maybe with my lips. He was my husband, after all, and I’d never felt this way about any man. I hadn’t known such emotion was even possible. My parents had never given me any indication that marriage could be so much more.

Oh, help.

“Tessa.” His voice was low and hoarse. He took a step toward me, and I could see in his eyes that he didn’t know what he was doing any more than I did, only that he felt something strong in this moment.

With Bailey nowhere in sight.

 
Ha!

Before either of us could decide whether we would cross the bridge that beckoned between us, the roar of an expensive engine and the sound of tires on the dirt road demanded our attention. We turned, our shoulders coming together and sending a shock of contact though my arm. I wanted to lean against his strength, and when I saw who had arrived, I allowed myself the luxury. In fact, I stepped even closer to Gage, my breath coming faster. His arm surrounded me protectively, and for some reason, that made me want to weep. Gage was a protector, as I’d seen with Mia, and in this moment he was mine.

Julian climbed out of his green BMW. He wore tan slacks, a yellow golf shirt that was open at the neck, and shiny brown leather loafers. His skin looked bronze against the yellow shirt and blond hair. He was good-looking, there was no question about it, and his confidence radiated in the way he carried his lean body as he strode up the walk. I wondered if that was something he’d learned in school, or if, as the child of a wealthy man, he’d developed it from infancy.