The Second Lie

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The Second Lie Page 29

by Tara Taylor Quinn


  And couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Sam was watching me. She nodded.

  “David Abrams?” I could barely speak.

  “I don’t know any David Abrams,” Maggie said. But I could see that this second secret—this second lie—coming so soon after she’d found out that her mother had sold her into the drug trade, was too much for Maggie. She’d shut down as surely as if there’d been a switch to flip. She was fourteen. She’d just lost her best friend. And her mother. She couldn’t possibly deal with another loss.

  And I couldn’t stop Sam from trying to break her, anyway. Not with a pedophile on the loose.

  “Maggie, this is Mac,” I said.

  “No, it’s not.”

  “Maggie, do you know what happens if you lie to an officer of the law?” Sam asked.

  “No. But I’m not lying.”

  “You could go to prison. And because there have been at least two deaths that we know of resulting from the activities of these men, you would be charged as an accessory to murder. If you were charged as an adult, and considering your age you could be, you could spend the rest of your life in prison.”

  I was scared just listening to Sam. And she was my friend.

  “I’m not lying,” Maggie said. “That man is not Mac.”

  We worked the child for another half hour. And then I called it quits. Maggie wasn’t budging. And nothing was going to make her budge. Her subconscious was protecting her from what she couldn’t handle. I was convinced Maggie honestly believed she was telling us the truth. There was nothing anyone could take from her at this point that mattered to her except Mac.

  I sent the girl back to bed. She had school in the morning.

  “What do you think?” Sam asked as I walked her and Kyle to the door.

  “My professional opinion?”

  “Yes.”

  “Abrams is Mac, but right now she believes what she’s saying to us.”

  “Do you think you can get her to talk?”

  “Not anytime soon,” I told her honestly. “We could put her in a room face-to-face with David Abrams at this point and she’d deny that he was Mac. Because in her mind, her Mac would never do any of the things we’ve told her David has done.”

  “You do realize that without Maggie’s testimony we have nothing on David? He’s a lawyer, Kel. He’s covered his tracks completely.”

  “Except for Maggie.”

  “Right. She’s the one time he veered from his plan.”

  “So what are we going to do?”

  “I’m going to testify, that’s what,” Kyle said, even as Sam was shaking her head.

  “It wouldn’t stand up in court. All you know is what Chuck told you when he was holding a gun to your head. It’s your word against his and he’s not here to defend himself.”

  I couldn’t believe this.

  “So now what?”

  “So now I call David Abrams, put the fear of God into him and keep looking.”

  “And what about Maggie?”

  “We watch her like a hawk, Kel. If the man so much as comes near her, we’ve got him, which is why I don’t think he will. And hopefully, as time passes, with no contact between them, his hold over her will lessen and she’ll tell us the truth.”

  “So you think she’s safe?”

  “For now. Absolutely. The man’s not stupid. He’s not going to risk his whole life to have sex with Maggie.”

  “Are his children safe?” I hated to ask but had to know.

  “I believe so. All the indications are that he’s a good father. It seems clear that his obsession is Maggie. Just Maggie.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel much better,” I said.

  “Me, neither,” Sam admitted. “Which is why I’m going to stick to him like glue.”

  “You know Sam, Kelly. She’ll get him.” Kyle’s possessive grin in Sam’s direction, his arm around her shoulders, was encouraging.

  And I had something else on my mind.

  “Sam?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You got any pull with Child Services?”

  “’Bout as much as you do, why?”

  “I want to keep Maggie here.”

  “I’m pretty sure that can be arranged.”

  “I thought so, too, but…you’ll put in a word for me?”

  “I have a feeling it’ll be more like them asking me to put in a word to you. Lori Winston has already requested that you be given temporary custody.”

  Well, thank you, God.

  And I’m sorry I thought you didn’t hear me.

  “I’m driving,” Kyle said, heading to the driver’s side of her car as they left Kelly’s front door.

  Sam handed him the keys.

  “You coming to my place?”

  They hadn’t discussed it.

  “Yes.”

  She had her phone out and dialed before she’d fastened her seat belt.

  “Hello?” The voice on the other end of the line was groggy.

  “David? Sam Jones.”

  “What? What time is it?” Sam could hear a rustle. And a “David, who is it?” from afar—Susan’s voice.

  “It’s just after midnight,” Sam said, keeping her temper in check. But just.

  “I… Hold on a second.”

  She heard David say, “It’s work, sweetie, the police. Someone needs a lawyer. Go to sleep. I’ll be right back.”

  A door closed.

  “Sam? What in the hell is going on?”

  “Chuck Sewell is dead.”

  “What? You’re kidding! What happened?”

  For a man who’d just lost his brother-in-law, David didn’t sound that shocked. Sam wondered who’d told him.

  Most likely one of the city officials Chuck had mentioned to Kyle. And that the sheriff had already tracked down.

  Only Chuck hadn’t had it quite right. The city officials he thought would protect them hadn’t known a thing about the meth lab. They’d been accepting anonymous donations. Period. They’d had no idea where the money was coming from.

  And hadn’t asked.

  They’d been severely berated by a very frustrated and distraught county sheriff.

  “Don’t bother with the games, David,” Sam said, her voice shaking with anger. “Just listen. I know who you are and I know what you did. I might not have concrete evidence at the moment, but I will. You mark my words. I am going to be watching your every move, every single day, until I find what I need to hang your ass. Until then, if you so much as look at Maggie Winston, if you go near her, contact her, read an e-mail from her, I will take it to the judge with the circumstantial evidence I do have. We have a statement from Maggie that she doesn’t know you. If you get in touch with her, that’ll convince us she’s lying to protect you. I will call in expert witnesses to testify to the fragile emotional state of an at-risk young woman with no support at home being wooed by an older, successful man. I will—”

  “I get your point, Sam.”

  “So we understand each other.”

  “Just for the record, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Do we understand each other?” She bit out each word.

  “Yes, Sam, we do.”

  “Stay away from her, David. I swear I’ll—”

  “Already done.”

  She hated the prick. Like she’d never hated anyone in her life.

  But she believed him.

  Kyle drove Sam’s car over the dark and peaceful roads between Chandler and home, listening to her threaten a man twice her size, with twice her money. He should be intimidated, but he wasn’t.

  He was proud of her. Comfortable.

  And aware, in a way he’d never been before, that she needed him.

  “Here’s the thing,” he said as soon as she hung up the phone and was still filled with fire.

  “What?”

  “I want you to conduct an investigation.”

  “Of what?”

  “Me.”

  “Don’t be cr
azy, Kyle. I believe every word you said tonight. And even if I didn’t, the information you gave us, together with the evidence that’s been collected already, is enough to prove beyond doubt that Chuck…” She finally noticed that he was shaking his head. “What?”

  “I want you to look into my history. You’re the best damn detective I’ve ever heard of,” he said. “You could ferret year-old bread crumbs out of a bird who’d been dead for six months.”

  She chuckled. “What do you want, Kyle?”

  “I want you to know that in thirteen years’ time, I have not, even once, slept with any other woman but you.”

  “Kyle…”

  “It shouldn’t be too hard a search, Sam. Not for someone like you. Other than the couple of trips we’ve taken together, I haven’t been away from the farm in the past ten years. You wouldn’t have to look far. Check every bar. Hell, get census records and randomly send my photo to every woman who currently or in the past ten years has lived in the area….”

  He might be laying it on a little thick. But he was completely serious.

  Sam turned, her face tilted up toward his. “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why would I spend time and energy on such a search?”

  “Because you love me.”

  “I’m not following your line of logic.”

  “Because I love you.”

  “Still not following.”

  But not denying his assertions, either. Not that he’d believe her if she did. The fact that he and Sam loved each other wasn’t in question. They’d have to be dead not to know what the rest of the town had taken for granted for years.

  “I need you to be able to trust me,” he said. “And the only way I’ve come up with to earn back your trust is to prove to you that I love you so much that, for thirteen years, while I was free to bed another woman, I didn’t. Because I learned a long time ago that you’re the only woman for me.”

  “Why couldn’t you have known that thirteen years ago?”

  “Come on, Sam,” he said, pulling into his drive. He stopped the car. Turned it off. But didn’t get out. “Think about it. I’m just what Chuck called me—a simple country boy. And you—you’ve got enough energy and determination to wage a one-woman battle.” The silence in the car was at once deafening. And comforting.

  “Sam, you’ve always been out to save the world. To make it a better place for everyone. And all I’ve ever wanted is to grow corn, have babies and sleep with my wife in my arms every single night for the rest of my life.”

  “What about what you said earlier, about hiding out at the farm so you didn’t have to face what you couldn’t control?”

  She’d listened. And remembered.

  “I’m not going to lie to you, Sam. I still want to live on the farm. A farm. I like farming. But I don’t have to live here. I know that now. I need your forgiveness, Sam.”

  “For Sherry?”

  “And for being too much of a coward. I was afraid to face life away from the farm. And afraid to love you.”

  “Because you couldn’t control everything and might get hurt.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Well, you know what, Kyle?”

  He was suddenly sweating worse than he had earlier that night when he’d faced Chuck Sewell’s gun. Almost as much as he’d been sweating when he’d heard Sam’s car outside that barn and known that he’d only have one chance to save her life.

  “What?”

  “The truth is, you’re the one of us who has courage.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Sam. You faced down two men tonight—one a coworker you trusted with your life—and you killed them both almost with a single bullet. You aren’t afraid of anything.”

  “I’m afraid of the truth, Kyle. That’s what came to me tonight, when I stood there in that barn with Chuck dead on the floor and knowing it could so easily have been you. When I saw that blood on your neck, I…”

  Her voice was shaking and he knew she was crying. “Anyone would have been scared…”

  “No, Kyle, it’s not… Let me finish.”

  He nodded and picked up her hand. Her right hand. The one that had held a gun steady enough to kill men on either side of Kyle and miss him completely.

  “What I realized tonight, Kyle, was that I didn’t choose being a cop over marrying you because I wanted to be a cop more than I wanted to be your wife.”

  He didn’t understand.

  “I chose being a cop because it made me feel safe. See, if I gave my whole life to being your wife, spending my days here with you and our kids, and then lost you, like my mom lost my dad, like I lost my dad… I just couldn’t take that chance. And what I knew, even back then, was that life can be gone in an instant. You could have had an accident with a tractor. Or been hit by lightning. Or…”

  Kyle felt as if a bolt of lightning had just struck him.

  “And the being a cop part—I suddenly got that tonight, too, when I realized that it was all a lie.”

  “What was a lie, babe?”

  She laid her head back against the seat, staring out in front of her at the barn where Lillie and Rad slept.

  “From the time I was a little girl, I knew that the only way I could be safe and happy and not like my mother, who was always missing the fun because she was afraid, who was always weak and vulnerable, was to be a cop. Cops saved people from the bad guys. But you know what, Kyle?”

  She turned to look at him.

  “What?”

  “I am a cop and I still almost lost the only thing in my life that’s ever really mattered to me.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You. And I almost lost you because I’m a cop.”

  “Sam, don’t…”

  With a finger against his lips, she shushed him. “Tonight wasn’t the only time, Kyle. Don’t you see? When I joined the academy and gave you your ring back, it was my decision to be a cop that made me lose you. And later, when we broke off the engagement for good—it’s because I was a cop. I was letting being a cop do exactly what the rape did to my mother. It was making me a prisoner in a world of my own fear.”

  He didn’t know what to say except, “Sam, tomorrow will you go with me to the courthouse and apply for a marriage license?”

  “Yes.”

  His mind raced. His heart and body were still in shock.

  “I’d like to stay out here for the time being, because of Grandpa, if that’s okay with you….”

  “This is your home, Kyle. And mine, too, if I’d only seen that. We’ll stay here for good.”

  “I want to be in town, Sam, on the nights you’re working late….”

  Again, she silenced him, this time with her lips on his. “I’m leaving the sheriff’s office, Kyle,” she said. “I already put it in writing. I want to do what I’m good at, which is investigating. There’s a detective position open with the county and the sheriff is going to recommend that I get it. I’ll be able to keep an eye on Abrams, to spend what hours I need finding a way to connect him to Chuck, to the money, to the drugs, to Maggie, something. And I’ll have time to take care of Grandpa. To help you train Rad. And to bring Mom out here and have her teach me how to plant beautiful gardens.”

  “And to have babies?” Might as well put his last regret behind him.

  “As soon as we can get them made,” she said, sounding more like the Sam he’d grown up with. Fallen in love with. And stuck beside through all the years.

  “Want to start now?”

  “You’re injured, cowboy.” Sam’s fingers trailed along the good side of his neck. “You’ve lost a lot of blood.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Okay, then I’ll admit that I’m not. I’m beat, Kyle. And scared. And feeling dirty. What I want more than anything is to take a shower.”

  “Can I watch?”

  “Of course. And then I want to bathe you—”

  “Because I can’t get these stitches wet…”

  “Right. And then
I want to crawl naked into bed, cuddle up to your naked body, feel your arms close around me and go to sleep.”

  He couldn’t think of anything that sounded better.

  “And make babies tomorrow?” he said, just because it was a Kyle thing to say.

  “And every day after that.”

  He was quiet for a moment, letting it all sink in. Odd how one day could be the worst and the best of your life. Which showed that no matter how bad things got, if you just held on, paradise could come next.

  “Should we wake James and Millie?” Sam whispered as they took off their shoes at the back door.

  “No. They won’t want to traipse home in the middle of the night.”

  “They’re in the guest room, right?”

  “Right.”

  “And are they going to make breakfast for Grandpa in the morning?”

  “You sure you’re going to make it to morning?” he teased, though he was completely exhausted.

  “Let’s get cleaned up and then see.”

  As it turned out, Sam bathed him first. And then he bathed her.

  He started at her feet, with the intention of working his way up. She was asleep before he finished with her second foot.

  But ten minutes later, she nestled up to him when he joined her on the bed.

  His neck throbbed a bit. Not enough to make him get him up and find the painkillers he’d been given. Wouldn’t have mattered. He remembered he’d already thrown them out.

  The only painkiller he would be needing from here on out was lying right there beside him.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-6884-9

  THE SECOND LIE

  Copyright © 2010 by Tara Taylor Quinn

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, MIRA Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

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