Convicted (7 page)

"He thinks that because your account at the trial was what put me in jail, I might have a reason to want revenge." Deacon met Hewitt's angry glare steadily, his smile never wavering. Let the cop say what he wanted, he couldn't pin this on Deacon.

And if Terry he kept insisting, it seemed he was going to find himself driving a wedge between himself and Lisa, which would be quite all right with Deacon.

"That's ridiculous," Lisa snapped, but a moment later he saw by her look that though the thought hadn't occurred to her, it made sense.

Officer Hewitt sat back in his chair with a smug grin. "Mr. Campbell is exactly right. How astute."

"But Deacon came back to help me," Lisa said softly.

"What better way to prove my innocence?" Deacon said. The game was on. Hewitt liked to play apparently.

"Right again."

Lisa sighed, looking very tired all of a sudden. Brown smudges shadowed her gray eyes. She rolled her neck on her shoulders as though to get the kinks out.

"You have no proof," she said finally.

"We still have some questions we'd like him to answer," said the cop.

"Then I retract my statement."

Deacon and Hewitt both spoke at the same time. "What?"

"I'm withdrawing my statement," Lisa said. "I don't want this investigation to go any farther. I won't press charges."

"Are you insane?" Deacon sputtered. The woman had gone crazy.

Hewitt might have wanted to ask her the same thing, but he'd managed to restrain himself. "We can't do that, babe."

Lisa's reply was a growl. "Watch me. Babe." The last word was a snarl, not an endearment. It seemed to sting Hewitt.

Deacon had almost forgotten how hard-headed Lisa could be when she wanted something. Lisa slung the strap of her handbag over her shoulder. She flapped the papers Hewitt had given her and tore them in half quickly, then dumped the scraps in the trash.

"You're nuts," Deacon told her, even as something stirred inside him. Was this her crazy way of assuaging her guilt? What had changed her mind about his character that she'd be so willing to take this stand for him?

Hewitt frowned. "You're being unreasonable."

"Deacon didn't have anything to do with what happened tonight," Lisa said firmly.

"You of all people shouldn't be so certain of this man's innocence in anything." Hewitt scowled and crossed his arms.

"Frankly, I'm tired of being told what I should or should not be certain about." Lisa slipped her arms into her lightweight black jacket and slung her purse back over her shoulder. "I'm retracting my statement. You have no reason to keep Deacon here. I'm leaving now. Good night."

"Wait," Hewitt called after her, and she turned. "Lisa, don't go off mad."

"You haven't left me much choice, Terry," Lisa said, and swept out of the office.

Now the two men stared each other down from across the desk. Deacon stood, expecting Hewitt to tell him to sit back down. The cop didn't say anything, though, just watched him.

"You can't tell her what to do," Deacon told Hewitt almost apologetically. The guy was a self-righteous blow-hard with an ax to grind, but Deacon still felt a little sorry for him. He'd been on the receiving end of Lisa's will once or twice, and he knew how hard she could hit.

"Don't tell me how to treat my girlfriend," Hewitt retorted, his mouth twisting.

Okay, so they'd never be friends. Deacon shrugged. "Just some advice, man. Lisa doesn't like being told what to do."

"And you're an expert on Lisa?" Hewitt said in a low voice.

"No." He'd never claim that.

"Get out of here," Hewitt said, dismissing him.

Deacon was all too happy to leave. After the close air of the station, the fresh night breeze was a sweet perfume. He gulped it greedily, then headed over to his motorcycle. As he unbuckled his helmet and prepared to pull it on his head, her voice stopped him. She called his name, then appeared from the dark. She'd been waiting for him.

"Didn't you learn your lesson about hanging around dark parking lots?" he asked gruffly, not sure he wanted to hear her reasons for waiting.

She laughed, a sound he'd imagined often in the past three years. "I think a police station parking lot would be pretty safe, don't you?"

"What do you want, Lisa?"

The bluntness of his question seemed to shock her. Her smile faltered, the good-humored laughter fading away until the night air was once more silent around them. Finally, she cleared her throat and held out her hands to him.

"I wanted to thank you again."

"You're welcome," Deacon said. "I'll see you at work on Monday."

"Yes." But she didn't go, just stood there staring at him with those damned lovely eyes.

"Do you want me to wait while you get in your car?"

She shook her head. "Deacon, what were you coming back for?"

"To talk to you," he said. "To hear why you were calling after me."

She nodded as though his simple explanation made sense. "What would you have said?"

"I would've asked you," Deacon said, "why you did what you did."

She had the grace to look away, and the sense not to ask him what he meant. "I'd have asked you the same thing."

"The questions might have been the same, but the answers wouldn't have." He slid the helmet on and flipped up the dark face shield.

"You know I had to tell the truth," she countered.

"So did I." He swung his leg over the bike.

"But we both said different things!"

"Then one of us," he replied as he started the engine, "was wrong."

Every light in the house blazed as Lisa pulled into the driveway. She rested her head on the steering wheel, mentally gathering her strength before going into the house. Allegra was home, and by the looks of things, she wasn't happy.

Sighing, Lisa got out of the car and went to the kitchen door. It was almost too much. She was bone weary, and her palms and rear ached from her tumble into the gravel. Did she have the strength to deal with Al now? And did she have a choice?

The answer to became clear as she stepped into the tiny kitchen. Allegra waited at the kitchen table, a burning cigarette in her hand and an ashtray full of dead butts on the table. Lisa hung her jacket on the coat tree, waiting for the tirade.

"Where...have...you...been?" Each word, sharp as a knife, was punctuated by the clicking of Allegra's jaw as she bit them out.

"At the police station," Lisa said.

"With him."

"Terry was there, yes." For some reason, Lisa was reluctant to tell Allegra the truth about her evening.

"Ter-Bear." Allegra sneered. "So, what'd you two do? File? Eat donuts?"

"I'm going to bed." Lisa got up from the table and headed for the door to the hallway. Allegra reached out as she passed, snagging Lisa's arm.

"I waited for you all night."

Lisa pulled out of her sister's grasp. "You shouldn't have."

Allegra's laugh was harsh. She stubbed out the cigarette and bent to the plate of pie in front of her. Without another word, she shoveled the dessert into her mouth, spilling fruit and pastry out of her mouth and down the front of her shirt. Pie wasn't the first stain on her clothes. Ice cream from the empty gallon container on the table also marked the fabric, and ketchup, and some other things Lisa didn't recognize.

"Al, stop it right now," Lisa snapped. She jerked the pie plate away from her sister and tossed it in the sink, not caring if it broke. "I'm not in the mood!"

"I came home and you weren't here," Allegra cried through her mouthful of food.

Lisa pointed to the notepad by the yellow wall phone. "I left you a note."

Her sister swiped her mouth with the back of her hand and got up from the table. As she pulled open the refrigerator door, Lisa saw Allegra wore a short, leather skirt. No stockings. Her feet were bare with expertly painted crimson toenails. Allegra yanked the carton of milk from the door and began gulping the contents. Milk splattered on her and on the floor.

"Enough!" As Lisa snatched the carton from her sister, she slid a little in the puddle. She shoved the carton back in the fridge. "Go to bed, Allegra!"

"You weren't here when I got home," Allegra said. "And...the...house...was...dark!"

Lisa felt like crying. She took her sister by the arm and pushed her down into her chair. "I left the light on in here for you. I left you a note. And don't tell me you waited for me here, Allegra, because I can tell by the way you're dressed that you went out anyway."

A sly smile painted itself across Allegra's face. "You missed a really great time, Lisa."

"Clean yourself up, and clean this place up," Lisa said coldly. "I mean it, Allegra."

Allegra whined, a nasty, creeping noise that rose the hair on Lisa's neck. "Why didn't you wait for me, Lisa?"

"I didn't want to go out to some bar and watch you get drunk and flirt," Lisa said bluntly.

Allegra frowned. "You could've asked me out to dinner, too. You just didn't want to be with me."

That was true, but Lisa knew better than to say so. "Go to bed."

Allegra surveyed the mess in front of her. "Oh, God, I ate all this? I ate all this? I ate all this?"

Lisa watched her sister's throat work, and disgust rose in her. "Dammit, Allegra, if you're going to puke, do it in the bathroom!"

Allegra slammed the table with her hand, making the ashtray jump. "Why are you always so mean to me?"

Lisa began to count to ten inside her head. She could have turned and walked away up the stairs to her bedroom, but that would not have stopped Allegra's outburst. Now she counted. She continued on to twenty before she felt calm enough to reply.

"You are my sister and I love you," she said. "But we've been over this and over this, Allegra. I have a life. I have to have a life, Al!"

Allegra's look of scorn cut Lisa so deeply she felt like she might be the one to get sick. "With Terry? Oh, please. I've seen you get more excited about a new pair of shoes."

Her sister hit close to the mark, but Lisa wasn't about to admit it. "What do you have against Terry?"

"You deserve better," Allegra muttered. She lit another cigarette, but as usual, didn't smoke it. Allegra never smoked them, just burned them.

Lisa had heard that before. "That's for me to decide."

"I'm going to bed," Allegra said, as though Lisa's comment wasn't worth answering.

Even though that was all Lisa wanted--to sink into her bed and go to sleep--Allegra's casual response infuriated her. "I'm not cleaning up your mess this time. You made it. You clean it."

Allegra looked stunned. Then her eyes narrowed. "I'll do it tomorrow."

Lisa knew her sister well enough to know that wouldn't happen. The mess on the table and sink would begin to draw flies before Allegra would take care of it. "Do it now."

"You can't tell me what to do," Allegra said.

Lisa squared her shoulders. "You spoiled, little brat. I'm tired of cleaning up after you! When you moved in here, we agreed you'd do your share. I expect you to start doing it!"

It was like watching a movie in fast forward. One minute Allegra was scowling, her face dark with fury, and in the next second she was wreathed in smiles. "Sure. Okay. You're right."

Lisa, who'd been prepared to go to battle, felt herself deflate in the face of Allegra's sudden good humor. "Thank you."

"Boy," Allegra joked as she began clearing the trash from the table. "Getting knocked on your ass really put you in a bad mood."

It wasn't until she was slipping into her cozy sheets that Lisa realized something strange. How had Allegra known about the mugging? Lisa hadn't told her.

Deacon had every intention of quitting Monday morning. He went to Doug Shadd's office, knocked on the door, and went inside when Doug invited him to. He even opened his mouth to explain he appreciated the job offer, but he'd be unable to continue.

Twenty minutes later, he left Doug's office with a thick file of notes, site photos and budget requirements for a new town project. As he walked down the hall toward the doors leading outside to the greenhouse, he couldn't help smiling ruefully. Now he knew where Lisa got her stubborn will.

Doug hadn't given him a minute to list his reasons for quitting. In a way, Deacon was glad for the older man's take-charge attitude. Without this job, he'd never be able to move back out on his own. He didn't want to work at the Evergreen forever.

Leaving St. Mary's wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. He'd done it before during his brief stint in college and for internships at some of the larger horticultural facilities in the state. Hershey, with its chocolate-scented air and bushes shaped to spell the name of the factory, had been nice. So had working in Lancaster for Longwood Gardens. He'd particularly enjoyed the water gardens there.

But nothing beat coming back home to the mountains.

Allegra waited for him outside his office door. Today, instead of black leather, she wore a blue-and-white checked dress that looked like it came straight out of a 1950's tv sitcom. She even had a string of pearls looped around her neck. The dress might be a vintage resale shop find, but those pearls weren't costume jewelry. Allegra toyed with the strand as though enticing him to comment on the necklace's beauty. Deacon didn't.

"Good morning, Allegra," he said politely, and tried to brush past her into the office.

"So, you and Lisa are going to be working on the new Memorial Park children's garden. Should be fun." Allegra leaned back against the doorframe, blocking his entrance.

Lisa?
Deacon's smile turned to a frown as he thought of Doug's good-natured insistence he take this particular project. He hadn't mentioned Lisa when giving it to Deacon.

As if sensing his distress, Allegra gave him a commiserating smile. "It won't be that bad."

She was up to something. He just didn't know what. "Why would it be bad?"

Allegra's look was knowing. "Don't play dumb with me, Deacon. Or maybe you're not playing."

He ignored her jibe about his intelligence. "I need to get into my office."

"I'm just surprised you can stand to look at her after what she did to you," Allegra said blithely, as though she hadn't heard him. "I'd never send my boyfriend to jail. My sister's just too honest for her own good. She always has to do what she thinks is...right."