Pretty Little Lies (Deception Duet Book 1)

by Morgan James

  What the hell was wrong with me? I was a fucking idiot, that was what.

  “How’s the store, Herb?”

  “Eh.” He waved a hand in the air. “Joey’s takin’ care of it.”

  I’d met his granddaughter, Joey, a handful of times. Herb had owned the local clothing store in Pine Ridge for the past several decades. After his wife passed away last fall, Herb had lost interest in the business. Joey had come up to help him out and had pretty much taken over. I’d hoped that having his granddaughter around would bring him out of his fog of grief, but losing his wife had taken a toll on the man.

  “You like having her around?”

  A grimace tugged at his lips. “She’s always nagging me to take better care of myself.”

  I hid a smile. Maybe that explained why he was heading home so early. “She just wants you healthy.”

  Herb sighed. “I know. She’s a good girl.”

  He poured himself from my SUV as I pulled up in front of his house, then I turned around and headed back to Murdoch’s. Inside, I spoke with the owner himself, who’d seen Sam at Rosie’s during the lunch rush. Another two men had been in the hardware store today at different times, both verifying that Sam had taken care of them.

  I propped an elbow on the door panel and rubbed my temple as I headed home, completely unsatisfied with the results my questions had yielded. Best I could do was pull the tire tomorrow and get a better idea on whatever had been used to puncture the thick rubber. It wouldn’t help much; without the weapon itself, I wouldn’t be able to tell who was responsible. Jack had recently installed cameras around the lodge, but the employee lot was more than likely out of view.

  Jules was off tomorrow, but I’d stop in and speak with him, let him know what was happening. Maybe we’d get a lucky break, but I seriously doubted it.

  Chapter 17

  Giuliana

  The clock ticked loudly on the wall behind me, the only sound in the empty room. After a night of no sleep, I dragged myself out to the couch and curled up in the corner. Eric had folded the blanket and laid it over the back of the couch before he’d left for work, but his scent lingered, and I drew in a lungful of the musky, masculine smell. Dressed in sweats and a thick sweatshirt I’d pilfered from Eric’s closet, I felt like I couldn’t get warm. Closing my eyes, I imagined I could feel the heat from his body seeping into mine, warming me from the inside.

  What he’d told me last night chilled me to my bones. He’d apparently questioned Sam, who denied everything. Not only that—he had an alibi, and several witnesses saw him at the hardware store throughout the day. If it wasn’t Sam, who could it be? Idle threats weren’t my uncle’s style; he would have shown up—probably with lots of firepower if necessary—and dragged me back to Chicago.

  A loud knock came from the front door, making me jump. On stealthy feet, I approached. Before I even neared the peephole, a familiar voice called out, “Jules? It’s me, Mia.”

  I breathed out a sigh of relief as I slid the chain on the deadbolt and peeled open the door. Forcing a smile to my face, I stepped back to let her enter. “Hey.”

  She watched me warily as I closed up the door and relocked it behind her. “You doing okay?”

  I exhaled, long and slow, knowing I wouldn’t be able to keep it from her. Besides, she’d clearly already heard that something had happened; I might as well tell her everything.

  “I’m fine. It was really no big deal.”

  She lifted a brow. “Really?”

  I shrugged. I wasn’t sure what she wanted me to say. Silently, I moved toward the couch and sank down in one corner. Mia followed suit and slid onto the cushion at the opposite end, just watching me, waiting for me to speak. “It was... scary, I guess.”

  I was still scared; I didn’t know who to trust or what I was going to do. If I’d had my car, I probably would’ve been packed and on the road by now. Unconsciously, I picked at my nails, lost in thought.

  Suddenly, Mia spoke. “Have you eaten yet?”

  My eyes widened. “No, why?”

  “Come on.” She pushed to her feet. “Let’s go grab lunch.”

  “I don’t know...” My gaze skated over Eric’s huge sweatshirt where it hung from my body.

  “Can I offer some advice?”

  My head tipped to one side as I contemplated her.

  Mia drew a deep breath. “Never let them see your fear.”

  Not for the first time I wondered about her past and the fading bruises and cuts that marred her pretty face. It made sense. It was the mantra my father had lived by—though look how that’d ended for him. Shaking the thought away, I considered the subject at hand. Maybe it really was Sam or someone close to him who’d done the dirty work for him. I refused to let the person win. If they were just trying to scare me, they’d have to try a hell of a lot harder than that.

  Slowly, I nodded. “Let me throw some jeans on.”

  Twenty minutes later, we pulled up in front of Rosie’s diner and made our way inside. The lunch rush had passed, but half the tables were still full of lingering customers reluctant to go back to work. We slid into a booth towards the back of the restaurant along the wall.

  A pretty waitress, her blonde hair cut into a cute bob that framed her face, smiled in our direction. “I’ll be with you in just a second.”

  “No problem.” Mia smiled and waved one hand at the woman, then she turned to me. “So, tell me the truth. How do you like it at Briarleigh so far?”

  “Truthfully?” I grinned. “I love it.”

  The waitress appeared beside the table. “I’m Cynthia. What can I get for you?”

  The menu was limited; Rosie offered only one special per day with few variations. Mia and I both ordered the pot roast with iced tea, and Cynthia bounced back to the kitchen to place our order. I turned back to Mia to speak but was cut off as another woman materialized next to our table.

  “You must be Jules.” The large-breasted woman propped a hand on her hip as she studied me.

  I flicked a glance at the woman’s name tag, which proclaimed her to be Rosie, the owner of this diner. “Yes, ma’am.”

  The woman caught the direction of my gaze and stuck out one hand. “Name’s Rosie. Nice to finally meet you.”

  I slipped my palm into hers and shook. “You as well. I didn’t realize my arrival was big news.”

  I wasn’t truly surprised; in a town this small, I was sure a newcomer was a big deal.

  “Hear you’re staying with the sheriff.”

  I nodded. “For now.”

  “Just for now?” Rosie lifted a brow. “A pretty little thing like you livin’ with the sheriff?”

  A crash came from behind Rosie, and cold tea splattered my pants as the glasses Cynthia had been carrying hit the floor. I met her eyes as her face contorted into an expression of abject mortification. “You okay?”

  My words shook Cynthia out of her shock, and she nodded furiously as she bent to wipe up the tea with a towel. “I’m so sorry.”

  I reached under the table to retrieve a hard plastic glass that had rolled underneath, and she accepted it with trembling fingers and a whispered “thanks” before turning tail and fleeing back toward the kitchen.

  “Poor thing,” Rosie clucked from beside me. “Afraid of her own shadow, that one.”

  Mia’s brows drew together. “Is she okay?”

  Rosie’s expression turned hard. “Better off without that worthless husband of hers knockin’ her around.”

  My mouth dropped open. “That’s terrible!”

  She nodded and turned her gaze my way. “Think she might have an eye on your sheriff.”

  “Oh, it’s not like that.” My cheeks heated as one thick brown brow arched toward her hairline. “We’re roommates—just friends,” I clarified.

  Rosie took in my expression and let out a deep laugh. “Oh, darlin’. Don’t tell me you believe that.”

  “I’m sure he doesn’t—”

  Rosie slapped one hand on the tab
le, making me jump. “That man is in here every day buying lunch for you. Never done that before for nobody.”

  So it had been intentional. I hid a smile as I thought back on the excuses he’d given me each time he brought a meal home. They’d ranged from “Rosie gave me too much” to “I ordered it for Riley, but he doesn’t like turkey.” I’d known he was lying, though I couldn’t help but be touched by the gesture. I’d almost refused the first night, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. He’d looked so insistent, almost pleading for me to take it. So I had. And he’d been bringing me dinner each night since.

  She nodded at me, face serious. “He’s a good man.”

  “He is.”

  Rosie persisted. “Man like that needs a good woman.”

  My smile immediately fell away. That wasn’t me—it couldn’t be me. I didn’t deserve his generosity, and I would never be good enough for him. It stung more than I thought it would. “He does,” I agreed softly. “He deserves the best.”

  Apparently sensing that I was uncomfortable with the turn our conversation had taken, Mia turned pleading eyes on Rosie. “Have you thought about making my cake?”

  “I don’t make cakes often, mind you”—Rosie lifted a brow in her direction—“but I’ll make an exception for you.”

  Mia smiled beatifically. “And I can’t begin to tell you how grateful I am for that.”

  “Won’t be nothin’ fancy,” Rosie warned her, and Mia shook her head.

  “We’re keeping it low-key; I don’t want anything over the top anyway.”

  I hid a smile while I watched Rosie examine Mia as if judging her authenticity. I was pretty sure Mia could convince anyone to do her bidding just by smiling and offering up a few kind words. The most amazing part was that she truly was as sweet as she seemed.

  Rosie headed back to the kitchen, and I turned to Mia, unsure of what exactly I wanted to say. “So, this is kind of nosy... but I’m just curious.”

  She smiled. “Shoot.”

  “It seems like you could do anything you wanted for your wedding, but...”

  “You’re wondering why I’m not doing anything lavish?” Mia smiled knowingly. “I’m not interested in putting on a show for people. As long as I have Jack at the end of the day, that’s all that matters.”

  The statement was so pure, so matter-of-fact that tears burned the backs of my eyes. I couldn’t fathom loving someone that much, but I heard it in her voice, saw it in her expression. I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d ever experience love like that.

  On the heels of that revelation came another thought. Something had been bothering me for days; the closer the wedding came, the more I needed to know. I glanced uneasily at Mia. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

  She tipped her head. “Anything.”

  “I just...” My eyes darted toward her forehead, and I lowered my voice. “That’s not from Jack, is it?”

  Her eyes flared wide with surprise. “Oh, my God, no! He’s not...” She shook her head emphatically. “I had no idea you thought that.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, immediately contrite. “I—”

  “No. I’m sorry.” Mia’s hand covered my own. “I should have said something sooner. Jack told me how uncomfortable you are with him. I didn’t realize you thought he’d hurt me.”

  Her eyes took on a faraway quality. “Jack rescued me after a car accident a couple weeks ago. He’s... amazing. Truly.” Her gaze darted back to mine. “He would never hurt me. And he would never let anyone hurt you, either.”

  I dropped my gaze away from her assessing stare. How much could I reveal to her? “It’s...” I took a deep breath. “I feel like I’m always looking over my shoulder, waiting for something bad to happen.”

  Her face softened, her eyes turning dark with empathy. “I can understand that.”

  I truly believed she did. “Do you ever feel like you’re caught in the middle, kind of? Like you can’t move forward, but you can’t go back?”

  “More than you’d know,” Mia murmured. “Sometimes you have to confront your past—if not physically, at least emotionally. What I do know is that, between Eric and Jack, you’ll always be safe.”

  I nodded. “Thank you.”

  After Mia dropped me off more than an hour later, I contemplated what she’d said. The more I thought about it, the more I realized Mia was right. What had happened with my tires wasn’t the work of my uncle. I wanted to stay, but I was worried that something else would happen. I still hadn’t figured out who would have any reason to hate me or why, but I knew I was safe here—at least for now.

  My melancholy thoughts turned to Eric. The more time I spent with him, the more I liked him. He stirred feelings in me that I didn’t understand, and it was scary and exhilarating all at once. Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to feel the same. I caught little glimpses from time to time, but he never made a move. I knew he cared about me to some extent, otherwise he wouldn’t have taken me in. But was that all it was? Disappointment stabbed through my heart at the possibility. I wanted him to want me the same way I wanted him.

  Something had changed between us the other night. We’d had dinner together for the first time and talked under the stars. I was terrified that I’d given away too much when I made a reference to Chicago. But Eric hadn’t mentioned it since, and I decided I was overthinking things.

  Eric returned home later in the afternoon, and we crossed paths only a couple of times before I headed to my room for the night. The weight of guilt pressed in on me as I curled up in the large bed. I briefly debated telling him of my past, but he’d done too much for me already; I couldn’t drag him into my mess.

  I buried my face in the pillow, breathing deep. It held a trace of Eric’s unique masculine scent, and I wanted more of it. It was exciting somehow to know that his head had lain on this very pillow. I pressed my cheek to it, imagining what it would be like to wake up in this very bed and see his face on the pillow next to mine.

  I immediately shook the thought from my head. He didn’t want me—he’d made that perfectly clear by keeping his distance. Suddenly sad, I pushed off the bed and made my way to the chair. It was better this way—I was better off on my own where I couldn’t drag anyone else down with my crap. I took a step toward the bed, then turned back. I eyed the pillow where it lay in the middle of the bed, a slight depression in the middle from my head. I couldn’t relinquish it. It was the closest I would ever come to Eric, and I refused to give that up. Settling in the chair, I hugged the pillow close, wishing Eric were curled around me.

  Chapter 18

  Eric

  I punched the pillow then flopped over on my back and threw an arm over my face. I couldn’t sleep, hadn’t been able to get Jules off my mind all night long. I should have known, should have seen it coming.

  She was going to leave. And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

  Two nights ago when we’d talked, it had been damn near perfect. I felt like we were finally starting to make headway. Though she hadn’t told me the whole truth of her past, she’d opened up at least a little bit. Today, though, there’d been a visible change in her behavior. She’d avoided me as much as possible from the moment I walked in the door this afternoon. I knew what had happened yesterday had scared her, though I still wasn’t sure exactly why. My only suspect had an alibi, and she couldn’t seem to think of anyone else who might be responsible.

  Over the past few days, I’d come to enjoy Jules’s company, and I thought she finally felt safe. But the sight of her sitting cross-legged on the bedroom floor this morning, counting out bills as if her life depended on it, had killed whatever sliver of hope I harbored.

  Goddamn it. I slammed my fist against the back of the couch, mentally cursing myself. I shouldn’t have pushed her. I should have kept my fucking mouth shut instead of prying for details. But I couldn’t help it. I wanted to know every damn thing about her. More than that, I wanted her to trust me. I wanted her to feel like she could com
e to me with anything. Instead, I’d scared her off. Fucking perfect.

  The scanner sitting on the bookcase crackled to life, and Lucy’s voice filtered into the otherwise silent room, ripping my thoughts from the woman in the bedroom just feet away.

  “Code 20 in progress...”

  I let out a groan as she rattled off the address for the domestic dispute—one I was intimately familiar with. These motherfuckers. I’d warned them last week that their shit was getting old, but the Johanssons were apparently up to no good again. I was tired of being nice. This time someone was going to jail. It probably wouldn’t teach them a damn thing, but at least it would give us a few days’ reprieve from having to deal with them.

  I couldn’t figure out why the hell, after a dozen years of marriage, they hadn’t figured shit out yet. In my opinion, they either needed to work out the kinks in their marriage—however many of those there were—or get divorced already. Personally, I was rooting for the latter. I’d be happy if they went their separate ways—preferably to a different city altogether—and I never had to see either of them again.

  I snorted. Wishful thinking, that. They’d both been born and raised here and planned to die here. Lucky us, we had the pleasure of putting up with their shit in the meantime.

  Hawkins’s deep voice followed immediately. “Central, this is 308. I’m en route to location.”

  Pushing off the couch, I turned the dial on the scanner to shut it off. Fuck it. There wasn’t a chance in hell I was going to sleep anyway. May as well join in. Besides, this would at least give me something to think about other than the fact that Jules planned to leave.

  Rolling the tension from my shoulders, I traipsed to the spare room. Thank God I’d had the foresight to stash most of my clothes in here. At least I could get dressed without having to bother Jules while she slept. Quickly, I tugged on my uniform pants and pulled my vest on over my head, then I shrugged into my shirt and tucked it in. Getting dressed was so automatic, I didn’t even have to think about it anymore. I picked up my duty belt and checked to make sure I had everything.