The Perfect Liar (24 page)

Was she stil wearing that thong he'd glimpsed last night? If not, he wasn't the one who'd removed it. He hadn't drunk that much. After what'd happened with Kalyna, he wasn't stupid enough to let go to that degree.

He'd only wanted someone to talk to. And Ava had given him that. But she didn't have his body weight--or any tolerance for alcohol, apparently--and had gotten buzzed while they were stil sitting on the couch. From that point on, she'd treated him like a girlfriend, as if it didn't matter that she was in her underwear. But it did. The image of her small buttocks, the scrap of lace that covered her in front, her bare legs and those painted toenails was indelibly imprinted on his brain.

If he leaned slightly to the left, he'd be able to see more, he realized, but he didn't allow himself the liberty. She'd trusted him enough to let him stay over, and he didn't want to betray that trust. He liked her, had enjoyed spending time with her, especially once she lowered her guard and was simply herself. At first, they'd talked about Kalyna and the possibility of a baby. But then they'd put on an old movie and played poker, and the conversation had drifted all over the place. Ava was actually a funny drunk.

Luke wasn't sure what surprised him more--that or the thong.

The sun climbing over the horizon reminded him of what she'd said 178

about watching the sunrise from her bedroom. He wasn't seeing it from that vantage point, but there was a window close by and it was beautiful all the same. Although not beautiful enough to compete with what was peeking at him from beneath that sweatshirt....

She rolled over, and the sweatshirt rode even higher so he got up to cover her. He was just pulling the blanket over her hips when she opened her eyes and stared up at him with such a sexy, sleepy expression he was glad the blanket concealed his lower half.

"I think you owe me money," she mumbled.

"Money?" he repeated.

"Didn't I win last night?"

She was the worst poker player he'd ever met, but he'd let her win a few hands because it meant so much to her.

"Oh, yeah. Fifty bucks."

"Bummer," she said, covering a yawn.

"Why is that a bummer?"

She shoved the hair out of her face. "I thought it was more. I had a dream I was driving your car."

Luke laughed. He was nice, but not that nice. "Sorry to disappoint you."

"Didn't we gamble on who had to make breakfast?"

"We did."

Tucking her hands under her chin, she closed her eyes. "Shouldn't you get started?"

"You lost that one."

She opened her eyes just a slit. "You're sure?"

"I wasn't drunk. I remember it very clearly."

"I wasn't drunk, either."

"Then why are you stil in your underwear?"

Her eyes went wide and she sat up. "When did I take off my pants?"

"You never had them on." He didn't know why he'd brought it up.

Possibly because he was fixated on what she looked like in that thong. And possibly because he wanted to let her know he'd seen her so he wouldn't feel like such a lecher for gawking. "But I'm not complaining."

Avoiding his gaze, she stood and wrapped the blanket around her, 179

and he knew he'd seen all he was going to. "I'l get dressed so I can make breakfast." She started toward the back part of the cabin, but a knock at the door brought her up short.

"Are you expecting company?" he asked.

"No."

When she didn't move to answer it, he stepped toward the door himself. "Want me to get it?"

"Is it as early as I think?"

He checked his cell phone, which was lying on the coffee table. "Six."

"You
can't
get it." Dragging the blanket behind her, she tiptoed to the door and peered through the peephole. "Shit," she whispered. "It's my stepfather."

Luke immediately straightened his clothes. "Maybe you should go put on some pants."

"Maybe you should hide." She glanced around as if searching for a place, but he shook his head.

"I'm not hiding. We haven't done anything wrong. I say we play it straight. Pants are a better idea."

"What good wil pants do? We obviously spent the night together."

"But we didn't sleep together. And even if he thinks we did, we're both adults. How angry is he going to get?"

"He's not going to get angry. I just...I don't want to hear his snide comments. And he'l shoot off his mouth to my father. It's weird, but he and my father have struck up this unlikely friendship."

The knock came again, this time more impatient. "Ava? Hey, quit stalling and open up. I know Geoffrey's in there. I can see his damn car."

"Geoffrey?"
Luke echoed. "Who's Geoffrey?"

"Just play along," she said, and drew the bolt.

It was over. Kalyna had taken Norma's wedding ring and her money--

she never could find the earrings--and left her dead on the kitchen floor.

And now it was daylight and she was flying along the highway with her windows down and her radio up.

She expected to feel some remorse. Or at least fear. This wouldn't be easy to hide, not like that hitchhiker. But it'd been hours since she'd driven 180

away and all she felt was relief. It wasn't as if she'd
planned
to murder Norma. She'd been forced into it by Ava and Luke and Norma herself. Al she'd done was finally stand up to the person who'd hurt her the most.

And now she was free. She'd never go back to Arizona. She wouldn't go back to the base, either. She was done with the military. She'd go into hiding until she could give Luke and Ava what they both deserved, and then she'd go back to Ukraine and disappear. That was her real home, anyway, wasn't it? She should never have been taken away in the first place. This life she'd lived was not
her
life. She deserved better.

She pulled off the road when she came to a truck stop. In case the police were already looking for her, she was taking the long way to California, and the lack of sleep was beginning to take its toll. At some point, she needed to ditch her car and get some rest. But she hadn't come across the right opportunity. And she doubted she'd find it here.

The mini-mart was empty except for a pimply-faced boy at the cash register. Never one to underestimate a potential benefactor, she offered him a bright smile. "Hi."

He blinked several times. "Uh, hi," he said, and stumbled backward into his stool.

Kalyna sidled up to the counter. "You old enough to drive, handsome?"

Righting his stool, he sat down, but the blinking accelerated. "Yes, ma'am. I-I'm nearly eighteen."

"Almost grown up."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You got a car?"

He seemed to struggle with this answer. When she reminded him that it was a
yes
or
no
question, his gaze fell to his tennis shoes. "No, ma'am."

"Then how'd you get to work today?"

His face turned red. "My, um, my dad dropped me off. But I'm saving up for this super sick Trans Am. My uncle owns it. We've been working on it all summer."

"Oh. Cool." If he didn't have a car, he couldn't be much help to her.

She couldn't keep driving her own. It would make her too easy to catch.

No longer interested, she let her smile fade. She hung around for a 181

while, hoping to meet someone else, but it was early and no one came in.

She'd just resigned herself to buying an energy drink--to help her stay awake so she could forge ahead on her own--when the bell over the door signaled a new customer.

"Hey, Jerry," the boy said. "What're you doing back so soon?"

A gruff voice answered. "Just passin' through on another run, kid."

Kalyna stood on her tiptoes to see over the racks. The salesclerk was talking to a tall, weather-beaten cowboy, probably in his forties, who'd thrown a pack of cigarettes onto the counter.

"Where you goin' this time?" the boy asked.

There was a semi parked out at the far pump. Kalyna could see it through the window. This "Jerry" had to own it. He was the only other person getting gas in this Podunk place located somewhere in southern Utah.

"Reno."

Reno wasn't exactly California, but it was only two hours from Sacramento, and it had a bus station.

Kalyna dropped the NoDoz she'd picked up back on the shelf and went to the front counter, where she set a package of ribbed condoms next to Jerry's cigarettes.

When the cowboy saw it, he glanced at her in surprise and she offered him a seductive smile. "Nice day we're havin', isn't it?"

Obviously more experienced than the boy, he tipped his hat back and gave her a leisurely once-over. "Yes, ma'am, that it is."

"But it is a little...
hot,
wouldn't you say?"

"Don't you have any AC in that vehicle?" His eyes twinkled with lascivious interest as he nodded toward her Ford Fiesta.

"I'm having a bit of engine trouble. But even when the damn thing runs, the air conditioner isn't very powerful. I'm looking to put the fire out, if you know what I mean."

"Too bad about your car," he said. "If you have somewhere to leave it, my truck's working fine. It has an air conditioner that's mighty powerful indeed."

"That's what I was hoping." She winked, and he put a package of breath mints on the counter, too.

182

Something was going on and the boy knew it, but he couldn't figure out exactly what. His eyes bounced between them. Then he cleared his throat to get Jerry's attention. "Just the cigarettes and breath mints for you?"

Jerry stood taller. "Hell, no, son. Jerry's always a gentleman."

When the kid's eyebrows went up, Kalyna knew he had to be wondering why being a gentleman included purchasing products for a complete stranger. But he was smart enough not to ask. At Jerry's request, he added a couple of cold drinks to the tab and a can of whipping cream.

Then Jerry paid, and Kalyna walked out with her new ride.

When she got her suitcase out of the trunk, the boy stood in the doorway and called after her. "Hey, you can't leave your car here."

She tossed him a smile as Jerry took her case. "Don't worry.

Someone wil be along to pick it up."

Ava forced a smile for Pete Carrera, her stepfather. Fortunately, he didn't come by often. Although he was much nicer now than when she was a teenager in his home, it was only because he couldn't get away with the old behavior anymore.

"Good morning." Stepping back to admit him, she gritted her teeth, trying to hide her irritation at his unannounced and il -timed visit.

An abundance of hair gel fixed the long strands of his salt-and-pepper hair so firmly in place a hurricane couldn't muss it, and he smelled like he'd bathed in cheap cologne. Ava could barely refrain from wrinkling her nose as he came inside and eyed Luke, who moved forward to greet him. "Hello, sir."

Pete wasn't much taller than Ava. He had to tip his head back to take in all of Luke's six-foot-three frame. "Very polite," he said as he accepted Luke's hand. "I like that. Nice to finally meet you, Geoffrey."

Luke slanted a quizzical glance at Ava. "It's Luke."

Her stepfather scratched under his chin. "Your name's not Geoffrey?"

"It's Geoffrey
Luke,
" Ava clarified. No way did she want to explain what she was doing at six in the morning, only half-dressed, with a client in her house.

Luke cleared his throat to let her know he didn't approve, but she 183

ignored him. This was the only time he was going to come into contact with her family, so it didn't matter. One white lie would save her untold grief.

"Well, whatever your name is, you're a pleasant surprise. With all of Ava's talk about getting you on Weight Watchers and out in the sun a bit--"

"Pete! I've
never
said that!" Ava protested.

"You said he works a lot, needs to relax more. Anyway, I expected a soft, pasty-faced office type." He whistled as he shook his blockish head.

"But you are
in shape.
How often do you work out?"

"Almost every day," Luke said, but Ava quickly steered the conversation away from him.

"To what do I owe the--er, pleasure of this visit?" she asked Pete.

"Do I need a reason to come by and see my only stepdaughter?"

"I'm not your stepdaughter anymore."

"Come on, Ava. You know I wouldn't have filed for divorce if your mother hadn't tried to kil me."

"Metaphorically speaking," she muttered for Luke's benefit but couldn't resist addressing Pete's personal responsibility in the whole affair.

"And you two would have gotten along fine if you hadn't been insufferable in the first place."

"Hey, I'm easy to live with," he said. "Just give me a cold beer, and I'm happy. She was the one trying to collect on my life insurance. Have you heard from her lately?"

"Of course not." Ava had refused every letter until they stopped coming.

"Well, she wrote
me
. Can you believe that? She wants me to forgive her. How do you forgive someone who tried to
poison
you?"

He kept talking simply because he knew she didn't want him to. That, and he liked telling anyone and everyone what'd happened because it instantly made him the center of attention.
Your wife tried to kil you?

Fortunately, Luke said nothing.

"They're moving her to a different prison," he added, "in case you haven't heard."

Ava didn't want to hear. She preferred to forget that her mother existed, preferred to pretend she didn't feel an acute pain in her chest every time she thought of Zelinda behind bars. "I
never
want to talk about it, 184

never
want to hear her name. And Luke--um, Geoffrey--doesn't want to talk about it, either, so quit grandstanding."

Her stepfather rubbed stubby, grease-stained fingers over his wife-beater T-shirt. "Boy,
someone
got up on the wrong side of bed this morning."

Ava wrestled with her temper and lost. "Did you come for a reason, Pete, or--"

"Hell, yeah, I came for a reason. You think I'd drag my ass out of bed just to catch you two screwing around?" His laugh sounded more like a hoot as he slapped Luke on the back. "Your dad said I could use the boat today. Didn't he tell you?"