Tell Me No Lies (18 page)

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“Well, you’re paying for it. At least your trust fund is, since I’m authorized to deduct my services from the account if they’re related to my position as executor.”

A bit of unamusing lawyer humor, I supposed. “Of course. I’m glad you’re rushing it through.”

“I liked your grandfather. I’ve revisited the terms of the trust since we last talked, and the only other issue remains is the contesting clause, which, incidentally, my notes say your grandfather only put in because your parents insisted on it, presumably for your safety. If your parents plan to make an issue of it, given their attitude toward your husband, there would be a six-month waiting period as we interview everyone in your family and in your husband’s to make sure the marriage is legitimate.”

Six months?
Guilt ate at me. Why had I been so rash?

No, it was the right thing to do—for Lily’s sake. “What happens to the money if they do contest and they win? Not that they would, of course. I’m just curious.” I wanted to ask about jail time, but that might be a little too obvious.

“The funds would revert to your parents, if they’re living, or to Lily if they weren’t.”

Great. That meant my parents had more incentive to contest my marriage. “No one’s contesting, are they?”

“Not so far. But your mother asked about the clause when I talked to her last, so you might prepare yourself for opposition. Though if she won, there might be jail time involved for you, so I’m not sure she’d want to risk that. Besides, I can’t image why she’d think you’d trade one marriage for another unless you really meant it. I mean, either way, you were getting married.” Mark laughed, but I didn’t find it funny at all. Jail time.
Great.
I knew my parents could use the money to help secure their business, but would they go that far? They might feel justified if I’d managed to blow their deal with Julian’s father.

“Have there been any more inquiries about my trust fund?” I asked.

“No.”

“Good.”

When we eventually hung up, I stared into the horizon above the chicken coop without seeing anything. A little hand touched mine, and I looked down to see Dylan.

“I like watching them, too,” he said.

I smiled. “I never knew chickens could be such great pets.”

“I wasn’t talking about the chickens. I thought you were looking at those clouds over there.” He pointed.

“Oh, I love clouds. That one over there looks like a cake, don’t you think? Too bad they aren’t close enough to give us some shade.”

“That one looks like your wedding dress.”

I stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“It came while you were gone. That and some pictures. Didn’t you know? They’re in your room.”

I hurried to the house to find both the wedding dress and the blue dress I’d worn to dinner in Las Vegas hanging in the guest closet. A thin album of wedding pictures lay on the bed. I looked through them, unsure what to think. There we were, looking confident and in love. Printed, Avery’s picture looked a lot better than on my laptop screen.

“I thought you might like to keep them,” Gage said behind me. I turned to find him grinning at my shock. “The dresses, I mean. A keepsake. Besides, you looked lovely in them, and you can wear the blue one to church, though now I’m thinking it might be a little too dressy.”

I was not going to cry at his sweetness. I was not. It was a scam, all of it. I was
paying
him to do a job, nothing more. I let anger sweep away the hurtful sweetness.

“I suppose you think this will be on my bill,” I said. “But I didn’t order them, so they’ll come out of your payment. You can keep them, of course.” I regretted the words the instant I spoke, but it was too late.

His smile vanished, and his face darkened. “Money. Is that all you ever think about?”

“You’re one to talk,” I retorted. “You married me for forty-five thousand dollars.”

He took a step forward, hands clenched at his sides, his face as hard as granite. “Hey, you came up with that. I don’t want your money—I never have. I was doing you a favor, that’s all.”

“But—”

“If we’re talking money, you’re the one who married to get it.” He snorted with disgust. “I stepped in only to make sure you didn’t end up with some psycho like the one who followed you from the dance club in Vegas, which could have easily happened.”

“Why’d you even bother? Huh?” I clenched my own fists and didn’t back down when he took another step toward me.

“Because I’m a nice guy.”

Or maybe he was the one who had someone call Mark to ask about my trust fund. “My grandfather meant that money for me. For Lily. If he were here, I know he’d give it to us.”

“So what’s wrong with working for what you need? Not everyone has a trust fund, you know. You think that’s what your grandfather would have wanted—for you to fake a marriage to get money?”

“You don’t know anything!” I stood on my toes and shouted in his face. I was so angry, I wanted to strangle him.

“I know you didn’t love Julian, or you would have fought for him—or at least confronted him. And I know that Lily would never have wanted you to throw away your future to a stranger.”

I hated him. I hated him more than I’d hated anyone. Because he was right. I shouldn’t have run away. I shouldn’t have fallen into this mockery of a marriage. I’d taken what had seemed to be the easy way out because I’d been so hurt and worried and confused, but it had been a stupid idea from the beginning. Tears started down my cheeks.

“Look, Tessa,” he said, reaching out to me. His words were gentle now, the hard accusatory tone gone from his voice.

I slapped his hands away. “Don’t touch me.” Because if he took me into his arms, I didn’t think I’d ever want to leave, and he was only helping me out as a friend. I was a charity case. I had to remember that. He wasn’t in this for anything but to be a nice guy. He’d certainly made it clear he had no intention of ever having a real family. If I allowed myself to feel something more for him, I would only set myself up for more pain.

I stomped past him out of the room. In the kitchen, Mia was cooking again—probably dinner. To my surprise, she had the radio on, turned up high, the speakers facing down so vibrations leaked through the floor. She was swaying by the sink, in perfect rhythm. She didn’t notice me as I passed through, grabbing a set of keys from the table that I recognized as Gage’s. She did see me as I slipped out the door, and she called out, but whatever she said was lost in the sounds of the drums.

I didn’t want to talk to her. I didn’t want anything but to get away. Run.

Would Gage report the Jeep stolen? I didn’t think so. Could a wife be accused of stealing a husband’s vehicle?

I had no idea where I was going. I drove until the tears stopped and a layer of hardness reformed around my heart. I could think clearly again.

Why had the dresses so upset me?

I knew why. Because I wanted them. I wanted to read into them more than they represented. I wanted to remember forever the way I’d felt when Gage had kissed me that first time after the wedding. The feeling between us when we had stayed up practically the entire night playing cards. How he’d brought me breakfast.

I wanted it to be real.

I pulled over and let my head smack into the steering wheel. Lifting it, I let it bang several more times as though the action would knock some sense into my head. Was I crazy? Yes. There could be no other answer.

I was falling in love with Gage Braxton, and I had to stop.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

W
ithout realizing it, I’d ended up at the police station, one of the few places I recognized in the small town. My subconscious search for order in my chaotic new world. One idea that kept repeating itself in my mind was that Gage had said he’d never marry for real, never put his children through what he’d endured, never pass on the criminal legacy of shame.

Would he still feel the same if he was cleared?

That was why I’d come to the police station. Because I’d never felt this way about anyone, and if I didn’t do something, we wouldn’t have a chance.

Though what made me think Ridge Harrison, the police officer, would be here on a Saturday afternoon, I didn’t know. Except that he didn’t seem the type to be a Monday through Friday regular but rather a man who would work on a mystery until it was solved. At least that’s what I was banking on. If not, I’d have someone call him for me. I could at least tell him someone was snooping into my business. Was it connected? I didn’t know how it couldn’t be.

Sure enough, Ridge was in and came to meet me with a big smile. “So, to what do I owe this pleasure?” I noticed he didn’t ask me back but kept me standing in the lobby, glancing behind me every time someone opened the outside door.

“I’ve come to talk about my husband’s case.” The words fell off my tongue without hesitation, which made my nerves stretch even tighter. I was as bad as a schoolgirl with her first crush.

Ridge shook his head. “We’ve learned nothing new. Mia may have everything wrong.”

“So you think she made up the note? Or maybe wrote it herself?”

“I’m not saying that, though I haven’t ruled it out.”

“Do you really think she’s capable of that?”

He didn’t answer, but I could see in his eyes that he didn’t believe it either. Today his eyes were darker, the color of bitter chocolate, though it was probably a trick of the light.

“Well, I don’t believe it,” I said. “She’s scared—enough to convince Gage and me to delay our honeymoon so we can stay here with her.”

Ridge nodded once, briskly. “There were no prints on the paper except for yours and hers, but we’re taking the threat seriously.”

“I’m glad. But something else odd happened.”

“Oh?” He looked past me at the door, though no one was entering. Then his gaze touched on the clock behind the reception desk, and I realized he was waiting for someone.

“It might be related to the case.”

“The case,” he repeated, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips, as though he wanted to make a joke but realized it wouldn’t be appropriate. The smile made him more attractive, but I was too irritated to give it more than a passing thought.

“I have a trust fund my grandfather left me. I’m due to receive a lump sum soon and then a monthly fee for the rest of my life.”

He quirked a brow, apparently interested but not exactly sure how it connected to the threatening note.

“Someone’s been snooping into my finances. A woman called the trustee’s office wanting to know what happens to the money if I die.”

Ridge’s eyes had slid briefly past mine, but now they clicked back to me. “And what does happen to the money?”

“For now it would go to Gage. But soon it’ll go to my sister.”

“Why the change?”

“He doesn’t need it. She does.”

“I see.” He paused for long seconds before adding, “It seems like those fingers are pointing right back at Gage, don’t you think? He could have hired someone to call.”

My heart seemed to skip a beat. He was right. Gage was the most likely suspect, but he’d seemed sincere in his claim not to want my money. “No,” I said, shaking my head.

“I’m not saying he did it, mind. I don’t believe he did. I’m just saying it probably isn’t connected with the note Mia received.”

“It’s connected because it’s suspicious. Look, can we sit down? I’ve been hiking all morning, and I’m a little tired.” Truthfully, the confrontation with Gage had done more to exhaust me than anything. My mind was still replaying the scene, trying to study all the nuances in order to deduce what they might mean.

“Sure.” He indicated the waiting chairs in the lobby where an older woman with black hair sat with a drooling toddler on her lap.

“I meant somewhere private.”

“Then we’ll have to make it another time because I have an appointment in a little bit.” He lifted his shoulders in an apologetic shrug, an endearing gesture that lessened my irritation.

I wonder if he was waiting for a woman, perhaps the one Mia had mentioned to him yesterday.

“I need to clear Gage,” I said. “If he isn’t cleared, we aren’t going to make it.”

Ridge nodded, his eyes focusing on me as though seeing something he hadn’t noticed before. “Aiden told me how Gage feels about marriage and children. That’s why I was so surprised yesterday when Mia told me he’d gotten married. But perhaps if you’ve come this far, you’ll be all right.”

He didn’t understand, of course, and I couldn’t tell him. Even if I could, I didn’t understand what I felt for Gage, and it was hard to think past that. I took a deep breath, deciding to take another tack. “I know what happened to Mia, and I understand you came to see her after the attack.”

“It was bad. Really bad.” Another new note in his voice now—anger, helplessness. Exactly what I’d heard from Gage. “Truth be told, in the end Skeet got exactly what he deserved. If Gage and Mia had been willing to come out about the rape, everything in his case might have been different.”

“Why didn’t they?”

“Mia was too fragile. We were all worried she’d do something to herself.”

“But you knew. You were a police officer then. Couldn’t you have made the other officers see?”

He shook his head, a hint of tears in his eyes before he blinked them away. “No. They were right. She had to be protected. We had no other choice.” He swallowed hard, his words coming rough and heavy. “I’ve seen it happen before. She was too emotionally fragile. She would have—”

Whatever he was going to say was lost when the outside door opened to reveal Bailey Norris. Today her short hair was slightly spiky, making her look taller than ever, and she moved with the stealth of a predator. Contrasting perfectly with her tan, she wore loose, off-white pants and a matching short-sleeved shirt that opened at the collar enough to reveal a snug brown tank. Her step faltered briefly as she recognized me.

Ridge’s entire face lit up, turning from mildly attractive to fascinating.
Ah,
I thought, knowing Bailey didn’t share his admiration.