Perfect Liar: A Dark Romance Thriller (Beautiful Ashes Book 1)

by Dori Lavelle

  “I specifically told you not to call me.” My hand tightens around the phone as I glance behind me to make sure I’m alone.

  “I know. It’s just that I need a job. Can you help me out?”

  “I already gave you a job. And I paid you for it. Don’t tell me you’re calling for more money.”

  “No, I swear. I just wondered if you have another job for me, anything. I need the money and you pay well.”

  “What did you do with the thousand bucks I paid you?”

  “I’ve got bills, you know.”

  “Wrong. You spent it on booze and drugs.”

  “Please, Mister. I’ll do anything.”

  “Anything?” I ask, scratching my beard, my mind running wild.

  Maybe it’s not such a bad idea to keep him as a friend. He does have a lot of skills I could use.

  “I mean it, man. I did the last job well.”

  I nod. “Fine. But this will be the last job I give you.”

  “Thank you,” he says, breathing heavily into the phone.

  “I have some unfinished business in Houston and I need you to take care of it.”

  “Your business is my business.” He chuckles, relieved that he gets to earn more money for drugs.

  I don’t give a damn what he does with his life as long as he gets the job done.

  “Hang on a moment.” I close the door to the living room and return to the window. “I need to know that you won’t mess up this job. If you do, there will be deadly consequences. You know what I mean, don’t you?”

  There’s silence and then Keith clears his throat. “I do. And you have my word.”

  “Good.” I pause. “I’ll send you a text message with someone’s address. He’s a guy from my past and I have some unfinished business with him.”

  “Unfinished business. Got it.”

  “Have you ever broken into a house before?”

  “Many times. I never get caught.”

  “Well, I need you to break into this person’s house and get to his laptop and any other computers.”

  “Do you want me to bring them to you?”

  “No. What I want you to do is to save child porn on every one of his computers, including the work laptop if you get to it. But be discreet so he doesn’t discover it immediately. Can you do that?”

  “I think...yeah, I think I can.”

  “I don’t need you to think, Keith. There’s only one answer to this question, either you can or you can’t do it. Which one is it?”

  “I can. I’ll do it.”

  “That’s not all. A couple of hours after you get the job done, you will make an anonymous call to the authorities to expose him.”

  “You want him to be arrested for the possession of child pornography?” The slur has disappeared from Keith’s voice.

  “I need you to make it happen. It has to be the worst kind of child porn you can find.”

  “Got it.” I hear a ruffle of papers on the other end.

  “Keith, are you writing this down?”

  “Yeah, so I don’t forget.”

  “Don’t fucking do that.” My hand curls into a fist. “I need you to store everything I’m telling you inside your brain. I’ll send you the address as soon as we end this call.” I pause. “And don’t you ever call me again.”

  “What about my money?”

  “You’ll get it, but I’ll be the one initiating contact with you.”

  “Okay.”

  “One more thing,” I say, “fuck up and you’re on your own.”

  When we hang up the phone, I send a message to Keith with Jacob Gunning’s work and home address.

  The doorbell rings when I’m about to return upstairs.

  I hesitate before approaching the front door, blood draining from my face. What if it’s the cops? What if they know what I did?

  I shake my head. It can’t be them. I’m too good at this to get caught.

  I consider not opening the door, but the person on the other side refuses to stop assaulting my ears.

  I take a deep breath and peer into the peephole. When I see two women on the other side, I release the breath I’m holding. One of them is Donna, Randy’s wife. The other woman is round and has the same shade of blonde hair in pigtails.

  I knew Donna would be a pain in the ass, and the last thing I want to do is let her into my house. But I have a feeling she’s the kind of person who wouldn’t quit until she gets what she wants. We’re alike in that regard.

  I slap a smile on my face and yank open the door.

  “Mr. Brooks,” Donna chirps as soon as she sees my face. “Welcome to Misty Cove. I hope you had a lovely night in your new home.”

  “Hi, Donna.” I lean against the door frame, arms crossed. “What brings you here?”

  Donna glances at the other woman. “This is my sister, Clara. She’s also your neighbor. She wanted to come and say hello to you and your wife.” Donna tries to look past my shoulders, but I push away from the door frame and plant myself in the doorway to block her view. “I’m also curious to meet your wife. It’s nice to have a new woman in town.”

  I know I should probably greet the sister, but I’m not interested. I don’t want her to think she’s welcome to show up at my house anytime she wants. It’s best to keep a distance from the start. “That’s kind of you, but unfortunately—”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Brooks. It’s nice to finally have neighbors on this side.” Clara stretches out her hand to shake mine and I reluctantly shake it, but I keep it brief.

  The smile on Clara’s face melts away, but she doesn’t say a word. She got the message.

  “Here you go.” Donna pushes a glass serving dish into my hands. “We brought you my signature apple crumble. It’s a welcome gift.”

  “That’s thoughtful.” I accept the unwanted gift. “But I’m afraid Amanda is not up to seeing anyone today. She’s still recovering. It might take a while before she’s ready to meet people.” I tilt my head to the side. “I’m sure you understand.”

  “Of course,” Donna says, but like her sister, she’s no longer smiling. “Well, I guess we better be going, then.” She clasps her hands in front of her. “Do let us know when your wife is fine again. We’d love to pay her a visit and maybe invite her to one of our monthly ladies’ luncheons.”

  “I’ll let you know,” I lie, then I close the door in their faces. I don’t want them to think they’re our friends.

  I go to the kitchen and watch them walking toward the gate, leaning into each other, possibly gossiping about me.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The aroma of the apple crumble drifting into my nostrils reminds me of what I’m holding in my hands.

  Still frustrated, I empty the contents into the trashcan and place the dish in the sink to wash later.

  “I heard voices. Who came to visit?” The voice behind me makes my heart jolt.

  I didn’t hear Amanda coming down the stairs.

  “Just some nosy neighbors. Don’t worry about it.” I walk over to her and kiss her forehead. “I was preparing to make you breakfast. How are you feeling?”

  She touches her bandage and winces. “I still have a headache, but overall I think I’m recovering quite well.”

  “Good. I’ll give you something for the pain, after breakfast.” I turn to the fridge to take out some eggs.

  I’m afraid to ask if she remembers anything since yesterday. But it doesn’t look like it.

  Last night, I read on the internet the story of a woman who was involved in an accident and lost her memory for good. She forgot about her entire life. She didn’t even remember that she was engaged. I’m hoping it’s the case with Amanda.

  I need her to forget the woman she used to be, to forget about her early identity so I can create a new one for her.

  Lucky for me, no one in Houston is looking for her. There was nothing at all about her disappearance online. It’s a good thing I got rid of her friends.

  And before that
dick, Jacob, figures out that something is not right, he’ll be behind bars.

  I place a pan on the stove and get ready to crack the eggs into it. It pisses me off that I have to do Amanda’s job, but it’s only temporary. I’ll give her a couple of days to recover so she can take on the tasks that are meant for a wife, while I get myself a job somewhere.

  We don’t need the money, but the nosy neighbors might find it odd if neither of us is working. Misty Cove is a small town. It would only be a matter of time before word gets around. The last thing I need is for us to be in the spotlight.

  “Tell me more about the person I used to be,” Amanda says, lowering herself into a chair at the kitchen table.

  I freeze, but I don’t let it show. I hate that she keeps asking questions about the past. She needs to focus on the future. I have to play along, for now.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything. What kind of person was I? Did I have any brothers or sisters? Are my parents still alive?”

  When the oil starts to sizzle in the pan, I crack an egg on the edge of the pan and spill the contents into the oil. “You are an only child. And both your parents died in a car crash when you were little.”

  “My God,” she breathes, her fingers touching her lips.

  I turn to face her. In her face, I see the same pain I saw yesterday when I told her she lost the baby, the pain of not being able to remember something so important.

  “Don’t worry. You made it through. You were raised by your maternal grandmother, but she’s also gone.” I turn away from her again to hide the lies. “I’m all you have.”

  She’s quiet for a long time, and for a moment, I start to believe that she might not ask any more questions, but she does.

  “What did I do for a living before I got pregnant?”

  As I turn around to look at her, my shoulders are tense and my teeth are clenched tight. “You worked in the bank as a clerk. But you hated your job. You actually felt it was more important for you to be a wife and a mother instead of slaving away at a job you disliked.”

  “But that’s weird. I actually don’t think I would mind working.”

  I breathe in the smell of frying eggs, filling my lungs with air so I can hold it together. “You did. You hated it.” It’s hard to keep my annoyance under check, but I turn around with a fake smile. “But, honey, that doesn’t matter anymore. You have a new life now.”

  She leans back in her chair. “I’m so sorry I can’t remember you.” A dark cloud flits across her features. “It must be so hard for you.”

  “It is.” I return to the pan to scoop the eggs onto a plate. “It’s painful when your wife doesn’t know who you are.”

  “You have to understand that it’s painful for me too.” Her voice drops in volume. “I feel like I’m trapped inside a maze and I don’t know how to get out. I don’t know where I came from. I don’t know where I’m going. It’s driving me insane.”

  “Wrong.” I open the fridge to take out the orange juice. “You don’t know where you came from, but you know where you’re going. I will lead you toward our future together. Baby, you never have to worry about getting lost.”

  “Thank you.” She presses the tips of her fingers to her eyes, then drops her hands again into her lap. “What caused the car accident?”

  “I don’t know.” I pour juice in a glass and place bread and the fried egg on a plate. “I was at work when I got a call from the hospital.” I put the food in front of her, but she only glances at it briefly before looking up at me with more questions in her eyes. “I was devastated,” I continue. “When I got there, you were in a medically induced coma.”

  “How long was I in the hospital for?”

  “About a week. And when you woke up, I knew we had to leave town.” I sit down at the table with her. “Taking you back to our old home would’ve been too painful.”

  “I don’t understand.” She takes a sip of juice. “Why would it have been painful?”

  “Amanda, you lost the baby. The house was full of baby things. The nursery was ready. I didn’t want to subject you to that kind of pain.”

  “That’s so kind of you,” she says as though I’m some stranger. “But I actually think it would be a good idea for me to go back, even for a few minutes. It might help me remember.”

  “It’s too late. I sold the house.”

  Amanda pushes her plate aside. “It doesn’t matter. We can walk down the street. Maybe I will recognize the neighborhood.”

  Shit. She’s making this so much harder than it should be.

  I rise from the chair and go to the window, watching the ocean. “I’ll take you there one day, but right now I think it’s too soon. Focus on getting better. The worst thing you can do right now is stress yourself out. Forcing your mind to remember is exhausting.”

  “I guess you’re right.” I hear the sound of her pulling her plate toward her and of the fork touching the ceramic. “Do I have any friends?”

  My hands wrap around the sink as I try to keep it together. After counting to ten, I turn back to her.

  “I was the only friend you had. You were a loner, like me.”

  “That’s really sad.” She puts down her fork again. “I can’t imagine living that kind of life.”

  “You didn’t regret a thing. We had each other. We were happy. We had a perfect marriage and a perfect life.” I can feel a muscle twitching in my jaw. “We will get it back.”

  “But how can I go on when there are so many pieces of my life missing?”

  “You don’t have to think about what’s missing. You can create new memories. And even if you don’t remember your past, I’ll always be here. I will always love you.” I go and stand behind her, my hands on her tense shoulders. “We still have our marriage. That’s the most important thing.”

  “Okay,” she murmurs. “Thank you for being patient, for being here.”

  “Of course.” I kiss the top of her head. “I’m not going anywhere.” I need her to quit searching her mind for past memories or she will regret it.

  “I think I want to lie down again. I’m not hungry.” I help her to her feet and walk behind her all the way to the bedroom upstairs, where she disappears into the bathroom.

  While I wait outside, I hear the sound of her locking the door. I take a step toward it, pressing my ear against the wood. “Sweetheart, I thought we agreed that you won’t be locking the door, in case something happens to you and I can’t get in.”

  “I don’t want you to come in,” she says. She must be near the door because her voice is as clear as ice water.

  “What...what do you mean, my love? I just don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

  “Don’t worry,” she answers. “I’m already hurt. You hurt me.”

  “Amanda, what are you talking about?”

  “Quit calling me that. My name is Bree, and I remember everything.”

  For a moment, I don’t speak or move or breathe. I stand with my forehead pressed to the door, my temples throbbing with searing pain.

  “You thought I wouldn’t remember, didn’t you? You didn’t think I’d find out that you are a liar? Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you. Everything you fed me downstairs was a lie. You are a perfect liar.”

  “Get out of there now.” My fist slams against the door so hard that pain shoots through my entire arm. “Don’t make me do something I’ll regret. You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

  “You’re wrong. I know exactly who you are. You are a monster.”

  As soon as that word hits my ears, the other side of me emerges from the darkness, ready to pounce. I step away from the door and come running toward it, my shoulder crushing against the hard wood.

  I hear her screaming, but I keep going until there’s no longer anything standing between us.

  “Don’t you dare come near me,” she says, teeth clenched as she pushes herself into a corner of the bathroom, her eyes scanning the small space for something to attack me
with. “I won’t let you hurt me again, you bastard.”

  I laugh. “I can do so much worse. But I’m giving you another chance, a chance to be my perfect wife. If you fail, I’ll be forced to do so much worse than just hurting you.”

  END OF BOOK 1

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