Dangerous To Love

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  As she finished speaking, Kari returned to the lobby, her cheeks wet with tears, her eyes bloodshot. “I’m sorry, Avery.”

  “What?” she asked. “What’s wrong now?”

  “I don’t have the money to do any of this. I thought maybe I could swing it, but the truth is I can’t. I don’t have the funds to bury my own daughter or to give her a memorial. I’m a horrible mother.” She collapsed into Avery’s arms, sobbing her heart out.

  He knew Kari’s grief was real and raw, but he also thought some of the drama was part of her play to get Avery to step up to the financial plate.

  Avery gave him a helpless look and then helped Kari over to the couch. “It’s going to be fine. I’ll help. Carter said he would contribute, too.”

  “He was here? Where did he go?”

  “He just left. He’s very upset.”

  “But I wanted to speak to him. Why didn’t he wait?”

  “I don’t know. He’s exhausted and sad and angry—like we all are. I think we should take a minute or a day and just let things ride. We don’t have to decide anything right now.”

  Kari looked a bit more encouraged. “That’s true. We can take a little time. She just died last night.”

  “Exactly. We can talk later or tomorrow,” Avery said. “How did you get here? Did you drive? Do you need a ride somewhere?”

  “No, my friend Connie is picking me up. I just called her. She’s only a few minutes away. I’m staying with her for a few days.”

  “I’m glad you won’t be alone. I’ll wait with you until she comes.”

  “No. I’m okay,” Kari said, wiping her eyes. “You go ahead, Avery. This is a dreary place to wait in.”

  “We can go outside.”

  “I’ll be all right. I’m sorry about my meltdown. I’m just so overwhelmed.”

  “Completely understandable. We’ll talk later.”

  “I’ll call you.” Kari turned her gaze toward him. “It’s Wyatt, right?”

  He nodded. “Yes.”

  “Please help Avery find out who killed my daughter. She was my only child, my baby, and she deserves justice.”

  “Believe me, I’m going to do everything I can.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” Avery asked.

  “No, thank you. You were always a good girl, Avery, such a positive influence on Noelle. When you were around, I trusted she’d be okay, she wouldn’t go too crazy. When you stopped being friends, I was very sad. I’m glad you got back together before…before all this. I know how much you meant to her.”

  “She meant a lot to me, too. I’m never going to forget her.”

  “I know you won’t.”

  Avery gave Kari another hug and then got to her feet. He opened the door for her and followed her outside. Afternoon shadows were falling, and the temperature had dropped ten degrees, but the crisp air felt great after the stifling atmosphere in the mortuary, and he could see Avery drawing in deep, calming breaths as they walked to the car.

  As they got into the vehicle, he said, “You handled both Kari and Carter quite well.”

  “I have to admit they surprised me in different ways. Carter bailed out on everything. Kari apparently can’t afford even the cheapest funeral. Which leaves me.”

  “It sure looks that way.”

  “I didn’t realize Kari’s problems were so bad or that Noelle was supporting her. She never said anything about that, although she might have thought I’d say something judgmental. I always liked Kari, but I did have a front row seat to a lot of her screw-ups.” She paused. “I guess I now know why Noelle was so desperate to get a corporate job instead of pursuing her acting ambitions, the way she had before. It makes sense.”

  “Does it also make sense that she picked a lawyer to date, someone who could probably take care of her, if she needed it?”

  “Maybe. He wasn’t her usual type, but people change. But if she did think she could count on him, she was probably wrong. Today, he seemed like the least likely person anyone should count on. I don’t care if he thinks he’s on the hot seat with the police. His girlfriend is dead. He should have manned up and helped out.”

  He liked Avery’s passionate, angry response to Carter. “I thought the exact same thing.”

  She met his gaze. “Right? Who acts like that?”

  “Something in his behavior was off,” he agreed, wondering if it was just grief and shock or something more sinister. Avery let out a heavy sigh, drawing his attention back to her. “What are you thinking now?”

  “I feel guilty for saying it.”

  “You need to stop feeling guilty. It’s a waste of emotion. You can’t change the past. You have to move forward. Focus on finding Noelle’s killer, getting to the truth, instead of blaming yourself for what happened to her.”

  “I wasn’t actually feeling guilty about that.”

  “Oh, then what?” he asked with surprise.

  “I’m hungry. I’d like to get something to eat.”

  The conflict in her eyes curved his mouth into a smile. “It’s not wrong to be hungry. It’s almost dinner time.”

  “I know, but it feels like getting something to eat means I’m just going on with my life, like nothing ever happened.”

  “Which is what you have to do. But it will never ever be like nothing happened. Noelle was important to you. You’re going to miss her. You’re going to carry her with you through your life. It won’t be enough, but it will be something. And what choice do you have?”

  “None. But I do like the idea of carrying her with me through my life. Thanks for those words of wisdom.”

  “I have my moments,” he said lightly. “Now, let’s get something to eat. What do you like?”

  “Pretty much everything. You choose. I don’t think I can make any more decisions today.”

  He heard the weary note in her voice and wanted to make that decision for her. In fact, he wanted to make a lot of things easier for her.

  A voice inside his head reminded him that making things easier for Avery was not his job; he was just supposed to keep her safe. Maybe he could do both…

  Chapter Eight

  He took Avery to a Mexican restaurant he’d found a few weeks ago. It was a hole-in-the-wall café, a dozen blocks off the beach, tucked between a dry cleaner and a thrift shop. There were only eight tables in the small space, but the delicious food was cooked by Carlos Ortiz, an amazing chef in his early fifties. Carlos’s wife, Magdalena, ran the front of the house, his son, Felipe, was his sous chef, and his three daughters, who looked so much alike Wyatt could never remember their names, provided excellent service.

  He’d eaten there a dozen times already, which went against his usual practice of never being too predictable or settling into too much of a routine. But the food was that good.

  “Hola, Wyatt,” Magdalena said with a cheerful smile.

  “Hola.” He pointed at an empty table at the back of the room, away from the windows and the front door. “That one okay?”

  “All yours,” she said. “Katerina will be right with you.”

  “They know your name?” Avery asked as they settled in at the table.

  “I guess I have become a regular.”

  “Then you must know what’s good.”

  “Everything. I like the burritos. They are huge, though.”

  “Good, because I’m starving.” She set the paper menu down. “And I’m thinking a margarita would taste really good.”

  “Did I hear someone say margaritas?” Katerina asked, giving them a smile as she dropped off two glasses of water. “How are you, Wyatt?”

  “I’m hungry,” he said with a smile. “And we’re ready to order.”

  “That was fast. What can I get you?”

  “I’m going to have the loaded chicken burrito.”

  “And I will have the same,” Avery said. “As well as a margarita.”

  “You’re not going to let her drink alone, are you?” Katerina asked him.

&
nbsp; “Sure. I’ll take a margarita.”

  “Great.” Katerina picked up their menus and headed toward the kitchen.

  “It smells good in here,” Avery commented as she glanced around the room. “How did you find this place?”

  “I stumbled in one day, and I was amazed. I’ve had good Mexican food in California, but this is at the top of the list.”

  “So, this is your home away from home?”

  “I suppose, but…” He paused, thinking this restaurant was really nothing like any home he’d actually lived in.

  “But,” she pressed.

  “I did not grow up in a house like this, so it does not remind me of home.”

  “Where did you grow up?” she asked curiously. “We’ve been talking so much about me and my family and my relationship with Noelle, I know very little about you, except that you were a Marine.”

  “There’s no big story,” he murmured, wishing he hadn’t opened that door.

  “Come on, give me a few details.” She rested her forearms on the table, leaning forward with curiosity in her sparkling, gold-flecked brown eyes. She was looking for a distraction, and he was it.

  “What do you want to know?” he asked warily.

  “Are your parents alive? Where do they live? Where did you grow up? Are you from California or somewhere else?”

  He inwardly flinched at the barrage of questions, knowing he should have expected them at some point, because clearly Avery had a mind that was wired to want to know everything. He decided to stick as close to the truth as possible, while, of course, leaving out big chunks of the story.

  “My parents are alive. I grew up in New York. I have an older brother. What else?”

  “What else?” she echoed. “That’s barely more than I’d see on your driver’s license.”

  He waved his hand around the warm, happy, colorful restaurant. “See all this? Well, the house I grew up in was nothing like this. It was professionally decorated, filled with expensive, luxury furniture, paintings, and art, but there was no personality.”

  “Interesting. Much like your current apartment, which is not professionally decorated but still has no personality,” she said with a bit of sarcasm.

  He grinned. “Maybe that’s why I’m comfortable there; it feels familiar in an opposite sort of way.”

  “Why was your parents’ home so sterile? What are they like? What’s your relationship with them?”

  He waited to answer until Katerina had dropped off their margaritas. Then he said, “My parents entertained a lot, for both my father’s work, and also because they had a country club lifestyle. Our home wasn’t supposed to reflect a normal, messy family life, it was a stage for events. As for my relationship with them—it was good enough for a long time, and then it was really bad.”

  “Well, that’s about as cryptic an answer as anyone could give,” she said, sipping her drink. “Talking to you is like playing twenty questions. Why so reserved, Wyatt?”

  “I’m a private person.”

  “Well, you’re not making a public speech; you’re just talking to me. And I’ve been pretty honest with you.”

  “That was your choice.”

  “What made things go from good enough to really bad?” she pressed.

  Now they were getting into territory he never talked about. On the other hand, what he had to say would probably not affect his cover in any way, so what did it matter?

  It mattered, because then she’d know more about him than most people did. That could make him vulnerable. And he never put himself in that position.

  “You’re having quite a long argument with yourself,” Avery said, a perceptive gleam in her eyes. “Are we back to everyone has a secret, especially you?”

  “We are back to that.” He sipped his drink and then said, “I thought my parents were average, a little snobby, a little highhanded, maybe, but I grew up with money. It was all I knew. We had a nice house in a neighborhood where everyone had a beautiful home. My dad played golf. My mom played tennis. They had parties every weekend, and they were very popular. My father could charm anyone.”

  “Sounds like my dad,” she muttered. “Go on.”

  He ran his finger around the base of his margarita glass as he neared the edge of a personal cliff. What the hell—he might as well jump. It was too late to backtrack now.

  “My father had a big secret. He was a financial wizard, someone everyone trusted, but they shouldn’t have. He moved money around, played games, borrowed from Peter to pay Paul. He was always looking to score, get a huge payout, and he often got it—until he didn’t. Then his house of cards started to fall apart. He not only lost a lot of money, everyone came after him, the SEC, the banks, it was a colossal mess. The worst thing was that by the time that happened, my brother was already working for him, and he went down, too. My family lost everything. My mom was ostracized from her friends. My brother had to defend himself in court for so long that his wife left him, taking their baby with her.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she said with concern in her eye. “And you? How did you fare?”

  “I was the youngest. I was the least involved in anything, so I walked away from it all. I took myself out of the spotlight, away from the press, the accusations, the trials. I distanced myself from everything and everyone.”

  She stared back at him. “That sounds lonely, Wyatt.”

  He shrugged. “It wasn’t like the kids I grew up with wanted to be friends anymore. A few did, but their parents immediately squashed that. It didn’t matter. It was time to move on. The life I had led was gone. I had to accept it.”

  “So, you joined the Marines.”

  “I knew I had to change my life,” he said, playing with the truth.

  “What happened to your mom and dad and your brother?”

  “My father went to jail. My mom divorced my father and moved in with her sister but recently remarried. My brother served some time but got out last year. He changed his name and started over. He has some contact with his daughter, but he missed out on some very formative years. I don’t think he will ever live the life he imagined or planned for.”

  “That’s terrible. And that’s why you said earlier that you’d seen people plan for futures they never got. I thought you were talking about friends who lost their lives, but you were talking about your family.”

  “I was talking about both,” he admitted.

  “I’m sorry you had to go through all that. It must have been incredibly painful, especially you seemed to end up on the outside of the circle.”

  “The circle broke. We were like a chain of beads that fell off a string and scattered to different corners.”

  “And you don’t talk to anyone anymore?”

  “I don’t. We all had to find a way to make our lives work, and we couldn’t do that together.”

  “I don’t see why you couldn’t, but I suspect there is more you haven’t told me.”

  “I’ve told you enough. Anyway, my life is what it is. I don’t look back. I don’t worry about tomorrow. I just live.”

  She nodded, then let out a sigh. “I get it, but I am the complete opposite. I look back, I look ahead, and I look sideways. I don’t know how to stop planning and trying to control things I can’t control.”

  “That must be exhausting.”

  “So tiring,” she agreed. “I wish I didn’t worry everything to death. I know it doesn’t affect anything, but I just don’t know how to stop. However, if I’ve learned anything over the past two days, it’s that any belief I have that I’m in control is just an illusion.”

  He was impressed by her self-deprecating honesty. He didn’t know if Avery was always so forthcoming or if the stress of Noelle’s death had put her over the edge, but he had to admit he liked talking to her. She was a good listener, and she didn’t judge. It had felt surprisingly good to tell her about his parents, and that wasn’t a subject he shared with just anyone. But instinctively he knew he could trust her with the information
.

  “Thank you for telling me about your family, Wyatt,” she added. “I’m beginning to understand why you have so many walls up. I also have a feeling that if I looked you up on the internet, I wouldn’t find anything about you. You said your brother changed his name and started over. Did you do the same?”

  Avery’s brain certainly worked at an incredible speed. She put facts together and read between lines more quickly than most anyone he’d met. He decided to give her a truthful answer. “Yes, I did.”

  She raised a brow. “Wow. I wasn’t sure you’d admit to that. Are you going to tell me your real name?”

  “No.”

  “Okay then.” She sat back in her seat. “I guess I pushed one button too many.”

  “The person I was doesn’t exist anymore.” He hoped she had enough on her plate right now to prevent her from looking for more information. Although, if she did, she wouldn’t find anything. He’d buried his past more deeply than she could ever dig up, even if she did put parts of his story together. But considering how many other issues were occupying her brain right now, he didn’t think it would be a problem. By the time she got back to thinking about who he was, he’d probably be gone.

  He took a long drink, that sobering thought annoying him more than it should have.

  “I can relate to part of your story,” Avery continued. “My dad didn’t go to jail, but I think he’s a bit of a con artist. He wouldn’t admit to that, but his moral code is built on shifting sand. He makes people believe he holds the secret to the perfect life, and they pay him large sums of money to hear him spout quotes made famous by other people. I guess none of it is technically illegal, but it always feels a little wrong to me.” She cleared her throat. “My dad thinks my mother poisoned me against him, but she didn’t. I was there. I lived with him until I was fourteen. I saw who he was then, and I see who he is now. He’s charming and funny, and he’s someone who can become whoever you want him to be, but only for a little while. If you look at him too hard or stay too long, you realize he has no more substance than a puff of smoke. I just wish…” Her voice fell away.

 

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