Living Lies (8 page)

Dean shrugged. “Sure.” After twelve years, what was one more day?

Chapter Eight

Lara hurried through the throngs of frazzled shoppers, nearly stumbling over a small boy who had broken free of his mother’s hand and ran madly toward one of the mall’s over-crowded toy stores. Damn Erin. Of all the places to host her latest melodrama, why a shopping mall two weeks before Christmas? Lara stepped onto the escalator and descended to the food court. The combined odors of grease, vinegar and BO made her eyes water.

As she left the conveyer stairs, she scanned the blank faces of people standing in long lines, or hovering with trays of overflowing fast food, waiting for one of the molded plastic tables to free up. She spotted Erin alone at a table for two, her coat and shopping bags piled on the chair opposite her.

“Where have you been?” Erin demanded as Lara approached.

“Standing in line mostly.” Lara draped her coat over the back of the chair after passing Erin her belongings, then sat down. “So what was so important?”

“Dean’s back.” Erin sipped from her cup, her gaze never leaving Lara’s face.

“I know. I spoke to him yesterday.” Lara bit her lip to keep from smiling when Erin’s eyes widened.

“When?”

“After the funeral. He was waiting for me outside your in-laws’.”

“What did he want?” The urgency in Erin’s voice sent a chill through her.

“He knows I was the one who told people he was still seeing Michelle. I think he suspected me of killing her.”

“Why would he think that?”

“Maybe because the rumor I started had half the town believing he was a murderer and I didn’t say anything to the contrary.”

“So what did you tell him?”

“That I didn’t come forward to defend him because I didn’t want to spoil things with Jonathan. That I was young and selfish and so very sorry, and could he ever forgive me?”

“Did he believe you?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe.”

“Why did he come back?”

“I think he’s trying to clear his name.”

Erin said nothing and Lara hesitated before telling her the rest. “I’m going to help him. I told him I would admit that I made everything up.”

“Even
you
can’t be that stupid.” Erin’s eyes darkened, her mouth contorting into an ugly scowl. “Nothing’s changed. If you tell anyone what you did, who do you think the police will suspect?”

“Is that what you’re afraid of? That if anyone knew you helped me, they would think you had something to do with killing her?”

Erin’s hands shot across the table, gripped Lara’s and squeezed tightly. Painfully. “Did you tell him that?”

“No.” Lara shook her head, her heart thundering in her chest. Her knuckles ached where the bones ground against one another.

“You better not have.” Erin released her abruptly. A sunny smile lit her features. “And I’d think twice about admitting to anything if I were you. Do you want everyone to know how jealous you were of Michelle? Poor little Lara, living in Michelle’s shadow. She had everything and you had nothing. You were invisible when she was in the room and everyone knew it. You showed her, though. You got Jonathan, and Michelle got murdered.”

Lara stood and gathered her coat, its image turning blurry through unshed tears. “You hated her too.”

“That’s true, but I’m not stupid enough to admit it.”

Haley raked her fingers through her hair and let out an exasperated sigh. Nothing. As she stood slowly, her gaze swept the cramped space again. Only ancient bolts of fabric and boxes of forgotten tools. No sign of blood-soaked coveralls anywhere. No sign that anyone had been back there in years, except for smeared footprints in a thick layer of dust.

Not that she had expected otherwise. Still, she couldn’t help but feel a weight had been lifted. When she had started pulling out shelves in the tool cage, she’d been afraid of finding something that would give Dean’s claims verity.

She stretched her aching back, cramped from hunching over for so long, then turned and started fitting the heavy shelves back into place. As she bent to lift the second to last one, a dark spot on the concrete floor caught her eye. She crouched down and rubbed away the dust until the dark brown splotch nearly glowed against the pale gray cement.

A chill danced up her spine and she couldn’t stop the shiver that gripped her body. It could have been anything. The workshop floor had a number of marks from various stains and varnishes. So why did this one, slightly smaller than a quarter, leave her with a sick feeling in her stomach?

“What are you doing?”

Haley stood and turned, sliding her foot over the mark. Paige waited, her arms folded across her chest, on the opposite side of the cage.

“Looking for something. Why are you here?”

“I think it’s time we have a little chat.”

The hair on the back Haley’s neck bristled. “Well, by all means, let me just drop everything I’m doing.”

“You do that.” Paige moved to lean against the workbench and Haley joined her.

“What do you want, Paige?”

“I understand you’re still angry at me for what happened at Dad’s funeral, and you have this tremendous need to punish me for it, but enough is enough.”

“How am I punishing you now?”

“You took off yesterday. Garret and I got stuck doing everything. You missed an incredibly glamorous moment when our dear mother took a drunken header down the stairs.”

“I’ve seen it before and you and Garret weren’t there to help me.”

“Well, now we’ve been taught our lesson,” Paige said. “Look, I’m stuck here until that detective finishes with me, but I’m not going to sit back and let you dump Mom on me just because I’m staying there. You’re going to have to become involved whether you like it or not.”

“
You
are going to lecture
me
on involvement?” Haley asked in disbelief.

“If that’s what it takes.”

“I can hardly wait to hear this. I’m sure I’ll remember it always, and if over time I forget, you can give me a refresher, say in another four or five years when we’re all treated to another one of your visits!”

“Enough!”

Both women turned sharply to find Nate standing in the doorway dividing the shop from the store. As the heavy door swung closed behind him, Haley caught a glimpse of Billy with a customer at the counter. Both stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

Damn. She closed her eyes and mentally counted to ten, angrier with herself for letting her temper get the better of her than Paige.

“Lower your voices and stop acting like spoiled brats,” Nate hissed and turned his angry stare on Paige. “This is your sister’s store. For you to come in here and shoot your mouth off is not only—”

“Go play the boss somewhere else, Nate, this isn’t your place anymore. Haley and I are having a discussion.”

“A screaming match is more like it. I don’t know what’s wrong with you, Paige. Your sister does everything for you and Garret, and you still have the nerve to demand more.”

“Oh, yes, poor Haley.” Paige glared at her. “I’m surprised you can manage to take enough time away from your cross to even run a business.”

“You bitch,” Haley said.

Nate’s face was practically purple with rage. “Get out of here, Paige.”

“Gladly, but before I go, I’ll finish what I came here to say. I have a meeting tomorrow that I can’t get out of, so I won’t be there to take care of Mom. You’ll have to check in with her. But have no fear, I’ll be back the very next day and you can continue sticking it to me until that detective lets me get out of here.” Paige pushed away from the bench and stormed out. As the door closed there was no sign of Billy or any customers. Damn.

“Are you okay?” Nate asked.

Haley choked back a bitter laugh.
Oh, I’m great. Everything I knew about my father may be a lie. He’s about to be blamed for murdering my sister. Added to that, fighting with my still-living sister just chased away the few customers I had. Things couldn’t be better.

“I’m fine,” she said, instead. How many times had she claimed those words in the last week? She should just have the phrase tattooed on her forehead and be done with it.

“Your sister is some piece of work.”

The derision in Nate’s voice surprised her. “I had no idea you disliked her so much.” Not that she couldn’t relate. Hell, Paige was blood related and she didn’t like her much either.

“There’s always been a hard streak in her. A selfishness. She’s not like you or Garrett. You both remind me of your father.”

Haley didn’t entirely agree. She, Paige and Garret were not all that different. Not when she considered Garret trying to manipulate her into moving back in with their mother. And Paige had been right. Haley was trying to
stick it
to her, and had been since Paige arrived home.

Oh, forget it. She had enough on her mind without analyzing her relationship with her siblings.

“I appreciate you coming to talk to me,” Haley said, opting for a change of subject.

“I just got your message. I was house hunting this morning.”

“You’re moving back?”

“Yes. I’d started making plans after Joan passed away. With her gone, there’s nothing left for me in Ottawa. My family is here. Being with the girls these past few days has made me realize how much I’ve been missing. They grow up too fast.”

Hope sparked inside Haley. “That’s wonderful news. But the store?”

“Don’t worry.” Nate smiled. “The store is all yours now.” The spark fizzled as if doused with cold water, and she forced herself to smile in return. “So what was it you wanted to talk to me about?”

Now, how to broach the subject when she was well aware of the reaction her questions would undoubtedly produce. No point in dancing around it. She had less than twenty-four hours to stop Dean. After everything her family had been through, she wasn’t about to stand by and let him destroy her father’s reputation. She wouldn’t let an innocent man take the fall so Dean Lawson could shirk the blame.

“Was my father living under an assumed name?”

Nate paled and her stomach dropped. Oh, God, it was true. She could read it on his face. “Why would you ask that?”

“I spoke to Dean Lawson—”

“You stay away from him,” Nate lashed out, his eyes darkening. “He’s dangerous.”

You have no idea.
“He thinks my father killed Michelle. He has proof that my father was not who he said he was, that he’d been married before. Until his wife disappeared.”

“Lawson’s done his research.” Nate rubbed his chin then added almost to himself, “I never would have expected it from him.”

“It’s true then?”

“Not the way Lawson’s claiming it is.”

“My father’s first wife vanishes, just like Michelle. That’s an unusual coincidence to say the least.”

“Eleanor was not the right woman for your father. She didn’t vanish. She left him for another man.”

Hope filled her. “So she didn’t just vanish. The police found her, just with someone else?”

“No. As far as I know she was never seen again. Her family tried to imply that your father had a hand in it, but there was no proof that she met with foul play. They just couldn’t accept the kind of woman their daughter was, despite the evidence.”

“What kind of evidence?”

“Receipts from hotels, witnesses that saw her with another man.”

“If my father knew, surely he would have been angry.” Could it be true?
No, no, no!

“Don’t think that for even a second,” Nate snapped.

“Then why the fake identity?”

“That had been my idea. He could come here and start again. We opened the business together, he met your mother. He was happy here.”

“Until Michelle disappeared.”

“Yes, until Michelle. All his years he never believed that Eleanor just up and left. He was certain something terrible had happened to her and it haunted him until the day he died. I don’t know how Michelle’s murder didn’t kill him.”

“It did,” Haley said, softly. “Just not right away.”

Nate put an arm around her shoulders. “I know this is hard for you to hear. No matter what your father felt for Eleanor, he wouldn’t have killed her. And he would never have harmed one of his children. No matter what they did.”

Haley frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Just what I said.”

“Had Michelle done something?”

“Of course not. Don’t give it another thought. And pay no attention to anything Lawson says. Even if that monster didn’t kill Michelle, I can promise you he played a role in what happened to her.”

Haley stepped away from Nate and met his dark eyes. He smiled reassuringly, but his expression did little to relieve her unease. He had left her with more questions than answers. Could her father have murdered his first wife in a jealous rage? This time yesterday she would have said no. But he had managed to keep a whole other life hidden from them.

Could he have killed Michelle?

She didn’t know, and the realization left her cold.

Chapter Nine

Haley pulled into her mother’s driveway and shut off the car’s engine. Y
ellow light glowed from the kitchen window, but offered no warmth or comfort. T
he idea of another confrontation with Paige made her head ache, but Dean wasn’t going anywhere and her twenty-four hours were almost up.

She stepped onto the slippery driveway.
The frigid wind flapped the edges of her open jacket like puffy, nylon wings as she started toward the house.

Maybe going to Paige was a mistake. Should she tell Garret first? No, she wanted to stop Dean. Paige was the better bet.

Inside, canned laughter from the blaring TV mixed with her mother’s rumbling snores from the den. After a quick walk through the first floor, Haley climbed the stairs and started down the hall. She found Paige leaning in the doorway of
The Shrine
.

Paige’s eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here? If you’ve come to ask me not to leave tomorrow, forget it. Even if I wanted to stay, I couldn’t.”

“That’s not why I’m here,” Haley said, unsure how to begin. How many awkward conversations could she get through in one day?
Just blurt it out. This is Paige, after all.

“I spoke to Dean yesterday.”

“I know. I saw you.”

“No, after that. He came to my house last night.”

“You let him in your house? Have you lost your mind?”

“Look, where I spoke to Dean is the least of our concerns. We’ve got bigger problems because of him.”

Paige paled. “What kind of problems?”

Haley told her all that Dean had dug up about their father’s previous marriage, his first wife’s disappearance, and his real name.

“Dean’s lying.” Hot anger shone in Paige’s dark gaze, and a strange sort of comfort settled over Haley.

“He had photocopies of the marriage license and the articles about the first wife. He even had Dad’s old yearbook picture. When I spoke to Nate, he confirmed everything Dean told me.”

“Oh, God.” Paige pressed her hand to her stomach. “Have you told Garret?”

Haley shook her head. “I wanted to talk to you first. We have to stop Dean and I thought maybe…” she trailed off.

“You thought I’d be devious enough to come up with something.”

“I might not have used the word devious.”

Paige actually smiled. “Ordinarily, I’d be only too happy to help, but in the end it won’t matter.”

“How can you say that?”

“There's nothing Dean found that the police won’t eventually uncover for themselves. If they had looked past Dean as a suspect when Michelle first disappeared, they would have learned about Dad’s past then.”

“So what do we do? Just sit back and let Dean pin Michelle’s murder on Dad? We know he didn’t do it.”

“To clear Dad we’d have to find something concrete to prove Dean did it. I don’t know why that’s been so hard for the police. I can’t believe a nineteen-year-old kid could murder a girl and not leave a shred of evidence behind.”

“Unless he didn’t do it.”

“Don’t get sucked in by him. It didn’t do our father any good, and it sure didn’t do Michelle any good.”

“He claims Lara started the rumor about him and Michelle still seeing each other. Apparently, she’s going to admit it to the police. Without motive there’s nothing left to tie him to Michelle’s murder.”

“That can’t be right.”

“He did break up with her. We both heard him.”

Paige leaned against the doorframe and slid down until her backside hit the floor. She drew her knees to her chest. “I don’t know what to do.”

“There has to be something.” Haley squatted beside her. “We just need to think. Where would the killer most likely screw something up?”

“You have lost your mind. It’s been twelve years, Nancy Drew. Whatever evidence there was would be long gone by now.”

“If Mom hears that Dad’s a suspect, there will be no living with her. Oh, wait, you'll be living with her. At least until the cops say you can leave.”

“And
I’m
the devious one? Okay, the only thing anyone is certain of is where Michelle was buried. This is probably a pointless endeavor since the police would have already gone over every inch, but why don’t we check it out?”

“That’s a great plan, except someone else is living there now.”

“Sarcasm is not one of your better qualities. The house is for sale again, and it’s empty. Mrs. Yolken said that the Kearney woman refuses to stay there since Michelle was found.”

“That’s a tad melodramatic, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know.” Paige shrugged. “Anyway, they didn’t replace any of the windows, I bet we could still get in.”

Haley couldn’t think of anywhere else to look. “It’s a start.”

They decided to walk. If anyone recognized their cars, it could attract unwanted attention. Besides, the house was only a few blocks away. But with the frigid air seeping through her jeans and turning her legs numb, Haley thought the plan needed work.

Paige fared little better. Her teeth chattered loudly in the quiet stillness, and she hunched her shoulders until her coat collar skimmed her ears. She looked like a frightened turtle.

As they came to the Victorian red brick, looming above them in the darkness, they stopped. Years of Christmases and family gatherings spent in the house flashed through Haley’s mind, but they seemed distant and faded. Far removed from the one-hundred-year-old shell before them.

“How are we going to do this?” Haley glanced at the houses around her. No one peered out from the lit windows. At least that she could see.

Paige shrugged. “We just go.”

Together, they started up the driveway, leaving a trail of messy footprints in the deep snow. Haley lifted her gaze to the tiny stars glittering in the black sky above. No chance of snow before morning.

“Somebody’s going to see these,” she said, following Paige to the back of the house.

“As long as nobody notices them until we’re gone. Besides, people will think they’re from kids being morbid. Look, there’s the window.”

As children, they had often sneaked through the window with the faulty lock. Every Tuesday afternoon their grandmother had played poker with her friends, and Paige and Haley, with a gang of kids in tow, would creep in and raid her candy jar. Their grandmother had had a sweet tooth to rival any child’s.

Paige grunted as she tried to lift the window. “It’s not working. I think it’s frozen shut.”

“Let me try.” Haley shoved at the sill until her fingers cramped. She and Paige tried together, but the window hardly moved.

“Maybe they fixed the lock,” Haley said, panting.

“No, look.” Paige pointed to the bottom corner, where the window had opened a fraction of an inch.

After fishing her plastic lighter from her jeans pocket, Paige knelt next to the sill and ran the tiny flame along the edge of the window.

Haley shivered and glanced around her. “If anyone sees us, they’ll think we’re trying to burn the place down to hide evidence.”

“We’d be the most inept arsonists I’ve ever heard of, using a disposable lighter and nothing else. I think it’s working.”

Paige stood back and pushed from the bottom. For a moment, it seemed the window would refuse them entrance, then suddenly it slid up, and Paige went tumbling forward through the opening. Haley grabbed the back of her coat to keep her from falling.

Paige stood straight. “We’re in.”

Haley didn’t reply. Instead, she peered into the darkness. The hair on the back of her neck stood straight while goose bumps stippled her skin. The sense that someone or something waited inside slid over her, and Rhonda Kearney’s refusal to stay in the house seemed perfectly reasonable.

“Are you okay?” Paige asked.

“I’m fine.” She gave herself a mental shake. “I’ll go first.”

Haley swung her leg through the opening and leaned sideways, awkwardly straddling the sill. As she turned and swung her other leg through, the frame dug painfully into her backside.

“Damn, it’s freezing in here,” Paige said, following her through. “I guess they’re not heating the place while no one’s living here. Wonder if there's electricity?"

“It doesn't matter, we can't risk anyone seeing the light. We're breaking and entering here.”

“Technically we didn't break, we only entered.”

“If we get caught, remember to explain that to the police. Maybe we’ll only get half the jail time.”

Paige flicked her lighter again. The small flame glowed in the shadowy darkness. “Should be very comforting once we're in the basement.”

Haley shrugged. “Let’s just do this.”

They crept from the living room to the kitchen. Their shuffling footsteps over the wood floors seemed too loud in the silence.

Paige pulled open the ancient basement door and nausea rolled over Haley in a slow wave. But why? What was wrong with her that she suddenly felt so sick? She swallowed down the bile rising in her throat. Doing her best to ignore the thin sheen of sweat coating her body, she followed Paige down the rickety stairs into complete blackness.

“This lighter’s useless. It’s too dark,” Paige whispered.

Haley couldn’t speak. The saliva in her mouth had dried up and her heart pounded as the frigid cold rose up around her. Someone watched. She could feel their eyes on her.

“There's no window down here,” Paige said. “I'll try the light at the bottom of the stairs.”

As Haley stepped onto the uneven dirt floor, Paige moved away from her. The small lighter’s flame appeared to float through the darkness then the room filled with yellow light.

Haley squinted against the brightness. When her eyes adjusted, she lifted her gaze to Paige, standing next to the swinging string from the glowing bare bulb.

“So where do we look?” Haley asked. She wanted to get out of there now.

“There.” Paige pointed to the back corner where the floor had been dug up.

Haley walked over to the loose, gray mound, knelt and skimmed her fingers over the surface. The earth was cool and dry. Behind her Paige wandered around the large empty space.

“There's nothing here,” Paige said. “Not that I know what we were looking for.”

But there was something. A sickening fear that hung so heavy in the air it was practically tangible. Haley took a deep shuddering breath. She was being stupid, letting the idea of what this room had been get to her. She needed to pull it together.

“Let's go.” Haley struggled to keep her voice even, but failed, the strange quaver audible even to her own ears.

Paige frowned. “Okay.”

Haley moved to the stairs, fighting the urge to run. Then Paige yanked the cord on the bulb, plunging the basement back into a sea of perfect black. Fear, like an icy blade, sliced through Haley nearly paralyzing her.

“I can't see a thing,” Paige muttered.

Haley didn’t reply as she continued up the stairs, taking each step quicker than the last. Her footfalls thudded against the brittle wood. She needed to get out of there. Now. Panting, she stumbled into the kitchen.

Here, the darkness eased some, helped by the street light outside, but the sensation of being watched intensified. Without a word, she crawled out the window, her feet sinking into the knee-deep snow, and gulped the cold air.

After a moment or two, her heart rate slowed and she managed to get her breathing under control. When she lifted her head, Paige gaped at her. Heat stole into Haley’s face.

“What the hell happened to you in there?” Paige asked.

“Nothing. I just got a little freaked.” A panic attack maybe? Wouldn't that be just great, if all this crap gave her some kind of anxiety disorder?

“Are you okay?”

“I'm fine. Let's go. I'm freezing my butt off out here.”

The experience in the house left Haley shaken. But by the time she got home, she’d managed to convince herself that she had suffered an anxiety attack, brought on by the stress from the past week combined with her sojourn to Michelle's makeshift grave.

For twelve years her sister’s body had waited there. Under the circumstances it was not at all surprising that she might experience a moment of panic. And there was no reason to assume she would experience anything like it again.

“I'm not losing my mind,” she muttered as she started up the path to the front door. Though talking to herself did little to convince her. And her shaking hands weren’t helping either.

Forget it. She was home now and mere minutes away from her bed. Sweet oblivion awaited, but a small dark heap on her porch stopped her.

“What now?”

The little pile made her skin crawl. Leftover nerves from earlier, no doubt. She forced her feet back into motion and stepped onto the porch. A hint of red peaked out from layers of gauzy white tissue paper at her feet.

Roses. She knelt and lifted them into her arms, searching for a card tucked into the folds as she stood. There wasn’t one. So who would send her flowers?

Some kind of sympathy gesture maybe, for Michelle’s memorial yesterday. Why no card? But she had received a card. Just as anonymous as the flowers she held.