Your Eyes Don't Lie (3 page)

She pulled her jacket closer around her. Why was she so cold? Her stomach growled.

“Makay?” Nate asked again.

“Uh, coming.” As she struggled out of the broken couch, the doorbell rang. Making a detour, she looked into the peephole, wondering if it would be Janice from the first floor or Ted from next door. She hoped they’d want to buy some of the chili because it was what she had most of in her cupboards. She charged less than what the stores did, but more than her cost. On the free items she made a killing, which was why she bothered at all with items like denture cleaner, laxatives, and wrinkle cream.

Instead of the old people, she peered into the rat face of Lenny Pagolino. She yanked the door open far enough to put her face out. “Why are you here?” she growled in a low whisper. “I told you never to come to my apartment.”

The short man lifted his thin shoulders, his watery brown eyes unconcerned and his stance determined. “I came for the payoff. I want it now.”

Chapter Two

H
arrison Matthews watched the blue Sebring leave the parking lot. It was a custom color, he was sure, because he’d never seen one quite so vibrant before. Nice, but not nearly as compelling as the woman driving it. She had the kind of dark eyes that were large enough to drown in and her brown hair fell in loose curls around her small shoulders in a decidedly feminine manner. Her smile, with the slightest gap between her two front teeth, had sent a spurt of emotion through him. Yet it was her bearing that attracted him most, the absolute confidence in the way she carried herself. Too bad she seemed to be taken—despite the lack of a wedding ring on her finger.

He shook his head. Maybe his mother had been right about his wasted time in LA. He certainly didn’t have a relationship to show for it. It was hard, though, coming home with his stepfather’s iron will and unforgiving nature still ruling the family. Not only was Eli Matthews always right, but he took it as a personal offense if his children disagreed with him or didn’t do what he expected. Eli had adopted him, and Harrison had called him father since he was four years old, but he had never really felt like his son. Perhaps because Eli saw in him the face of his mother’s first love.

He was glad his younger sisters didn’t have to deal with that, but being Eli’s biological children, they lived in fear of their father’s disapproval more than he did. Harrison believed that was why his sisters, now twenty and twenty-one, had both married at nineteen—to get away from their father.

Harrison pulled into a parking place, realizing that he was being uncharitable. Eli had given his mother a good, comfortable life, if rather controlled. He had loved and cared for her and given her illegitimate child a respected name. She had standing in the community, was active in church, and she seemed content. If she hadn’t been, Harrison might have stood up to Eli, but as it was, he bowed to his mother’s wishes and kept the peace.

Being home again, even though not living at his parents’ house, meant he’d have to justify his job, living conditions, habits, and even his lack of a wife, but maybe that was a small price to pay to see the joy in his sisters’ eyes and the way his nephew, Caulin, lit up when he was around. Some things you couldn’t put a price tag on.

Harrison’s cell rang, reminding him of the reason he’d come to Albertsons in the first place. The caller ID read Sherry Matthews. “Hi, Mom,” he said.

“Oh, Harrison, are you on your way? Because I’m thinking that maybe instead . . .” She stopped and for a moment all he heard was harsh breathing.

“What is it, Mom?” His mother was a little high strung at times, but she wasn’t overly emotional and having her text him twenty minutes ago, begging him to meet her here, wasn’t exactly typical. “Are you okay? Are you having some kind of pain?” Could be a heart attack, though it wasn’t likely. She’d given birth to him at seventeen so that made her only forty-three, and these days that was young—prime of life.

“I . . . I . . . Look, are you close to Albertsons yet?”

“I just parked. Where are you?”

“I’m at the end of the second row to the east.”

“Hold still. I’ll be right there.”

He climbed from the sedan his mother had lent him until his Sebring was repaired, his eyes searching for his mother’s brown metallic Volkswagen Beetle. He jogged past the row of cars and reached for the handle. It was locked. Inside, his mother stared up at him, her blue eyes wide. She relaxed when she recognized him and unlocked the door so he could slip inside.

“Thanks for coming.” She wore a gray tailored suit that flattered the slim figure she earned each morning in the gym. She had blond hair, lighter than his, and blue eyes with thick lashes that were decidedly her best feature. Her oval face had gentle curves and not many wrinkles. In all, she was a beautiful woman. Today, however, the skin around her eyes was reddened and there were smudges of black on her cheeks.

“What’s going on, Mom?” His feet had landed on several plastic sacks full of groceries. A part of his mind noted how strange that was, given that his mother never used plastic sacks and always put her groceries in the trunk.

She didn’t answer until she’d scanned the parking lot. “I was trying to tell you on the phone. I think maybe it’s best to go to your place to talk instead.”

This made no sense. First she called him as he was leaving work and asked him to meet her here, and now she wanted to leave?

“We can do that, but it’s going to take fifteen minutes to get there.” His initial worry was fading as she apparently felt well enough to drive. “Wouldn’t you rather talk here?”

Again her eyes wandered over the parking lot. “I thought I needed you to . . . no, it’s better to leave. I’ll follow you.”

“Okay.”

“Wait! Take these groceries. I bought them for you.” Her narrow face was flushed and her tone overly bright. “A welcome home gift. I meant to do it before now.” His mother had often brought him groceries before he’d moved to California, but a glance in the bags showed him an odd assortment of items. Three different brands of olives, bottled chestnuts, packages of what had to be every brand of taco shells in existence, and other items he didn’t even recognize. It almost looked as if she’d gone shopping with a blindfold on.

“Thanks.” He took the three overstuffed sacks and started back to the white sedan. He found himself searching the parking lot as his mother had, but nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Why couldn’t she talk to him here in the parking lot? What had even brought her here to shop so far away from her house? Maybe she was losing it—developing a mental illness. Or maybe it was something to do with her husband.

As Harrison tossed the plastic sacks into the trunk next to his mother’s reusable bags, a sudden thought came to him. Perhaps she wanted to talk about his biological father. He had actually been meaning to talk to her about him for years, but every time he’d approached her—usually after a falling-out with Eli—she’d given him excuses and changed the subject. Two months ago, he finally began his own online search. He hadn’t made any progress, but he had been in contact with a man who claimed to have a great deal of success finding birth parents and contacting them to see if they would like to hear from their children. Though the guy usually dealt with adoption situations, he’d promised to look into the whereabouts of Harrison’s father. In all these weeks, he hadn’t found anything solid but claimed he was still tracing leads. As his fees were reasonable, Harrison saw no reason to pull him off the case.

Why would his mother choose now to fill in the missing details of his life? No, it had to be something else. Something regarding Eli? Was their relationship not what Harrison believed? Or maybe this was about one of his sisters or their husbands. Or possibly she had cancer or some other devastating disease.

Stop it,
he told himself.
You’re probably getting worked up over nothing.

He drove to his apartment in north Phoenix as fast as possible without running red lights, his mind and stomach churning. When he arrived, his mother’s Beetle was nowhere in sight, so he grabbed his groceries and took the stairs to his third floor apartment two at a time. As he entered, one of the overstuffed bags split, spilling cans of olives and boxes of taco shells over his gray carpet. Fleetingly, he remembered the woman in the parking lot at Albertsons and smiled. Maybe if he ran into her again, he’d tell her what happened. People were creatures of habit, so it was possible she’d shop at that store again. Maybe he’d start going there himself in hopes of seeing her.

Wait. She probably wouldn’t care. “You have gone too long without a date,” he said aloud. Four months ago, after a year of dating, his last girlfriend had cheated on him with one of his buddies, and that had soured him on the dating scene. It might have even factored into his move from LA.

Harrison gathered the spilled groceries and was putting the food away when the doorbell rang. Hurrying to the door, his eyes swept over the sterile apartment. His furniture had arrived, but most of his things were still in boxes in the spare bedroom that would become his office. The newly painted walls looked too barren, even to him, and he didn’t like clutter.

He opened the door. “Hey, Mom. What took you?”

She stepped inside, darting an anxious glance over her shoulder before giving him a hug. “Just wanted to make sure I wasn’t followed,” she whispered. Her movements were rapid and ungraceful. Afraid.

He pulled away, looking down at her. “Followed? Mom, what’s going on?” If Eli had hurt her, so help him he’d call the police.

She walked jerkily to his black leather couch. “I’m sorry to make you drive to that store, to involve you like this, but I didn’t know what else to do.” She sank down abruptly, looking small and helpless.

He sat beside her, waiting for more.

“I can’t . . . your father . . . Eli . . . he doesn’t know. And I don’t know what he’d do if he found out that . . . Oh!” She put her face in her hands.

He put an arm around her. “Mom, just tell me. What happened?”

She sniffed and didn’t move for several long seconds. Then her hands fell away from her face and she looked at him, a tear dropping from her eyes. “You have another sister.”

Another sister? Of all the things he’d expected, this had never made the list. He stared at her. “What do you mean?”

“When you were two, I met a man. We had some wonderful months together. I thought . . . I thought I was in love.” Her eyes begged him to understand. “When I told him I was pregnant, he cut it off and disappeared. I don’t even know where he went. I was nineteen, and I already had you, and I couldn’t . . .” More tears started to fall. “I realized how stupid I’d been. I had the baby, but I placed her for adoption. I couldn’t take care of her. I had to do what was best for both of you.”

Images careened together in his head. His mom lying in bed crying. Her stomach stretched impossibly large. Her calling the neighbor girl to stay with him and coming home much later. Maybe the next day. Her stomach smaller, her tears never ending.

Memories of the child he’d been, a child who had never put the pieces together.

Until now.

“I seem to remember something,” he said. Had her tears meant she was mourning for the man or the baby?

“Some months later I met Eli,” his mother said softly. “He was older. He was willing to accept you, but he was a little—well, freaked about my previous choices.” She gave him a watery smile at the expression she’d obviously borrowed from the girls. “I never told him about the other baby. I didn’t want him to think too badly of me. You know, a woman who hopped into bed with anyone who gave her a second look. He decided I’d reformed and took a risk on me.” Her gaze dropped to her hands. “Even though I didn’t deserve it. But I’m a different person now. I’m not that girl anymore, and I shouldn’t have to pay again for what happened back then.”

Harrison felt numb at his mother’s confession. How could she have hidden such a secret all these years? He couldn’t imagine what it had cost her to follow through with an adoption, though maybe that explained how fast she’d given birth to the girls after marrying Eli. Maybe she’d been trying to replace the baby she’d had to let go. Odd, how he also felt a sharp sense of loss.

I have another sister.
Another sister Like Rhonda and Tianna, who might have trusted him to protect her from bullies or help her spread peanut butter on her bread. Did she have another brother who did those things for her?

“I don’t get it,” he finally managed to say. “Why is this coming up now? Did Eli find out?”

She reached for the black purse she’d set down on his carpet. “Earlier this week, this was on my windshield when I came out of the gym.”

Harrison took the folded yellow sheet of lined paper that had been ripped at the top from some kind of notebook.

I know about the baby. I’ll be in contact soon.

“That’s it?” he asked. “How do you know what baby they’re talking about?” Maybe it was Harrison the note meant. His father could have started looking for him.

“It wasn’t the only note.” She twisted her hands in her lap. “There was another one when I left the gym today. It told me to do something and I got scared. That’s why I called you. You’re the only one I can trust with this. I can’t let Eli find out. Not after all these years. It’d kill him.” A sob cut through her words. “I really think it’d destroy us, and for all his sternness, I really, really love him. He’s a good man.”

Harrison wanted to point out that if Eli was all that good, he would forgive his wife’s second indiscretion, especially since it had happened before she met him. But she wouldn’t appreciate the comment, and he knew as well as she did that Eli
wouldn’t
be okay with the deception. “It could be from my father,” he said quietly. Too quietly for the pounding of his heart.

His mother closed her eyes, holding them shut for long seconds. “No, it’s not him.” She opened her eyes again and said slowly, “He died of a drug overdose shortly after I married Eli.”

For long seconds, Harrison couldn’t breathe. He felt as if his mother had slammed a baseball bat into his stomach. “Why didn’t you tell me?”