Beneath These Lies

by Meghan March

  The shattered front window mocked me as I walked to my desk and pulled my phone out of my purse. I had two calls to make, one to Rhett and the other to the man I could always count on.

  My daddy.

  Two crime scene technicians collected evidence while one of Rhett Hennessy’s colleagues questioned me about the events of the morning. Was I usually late for work? Did I see anything before the brick came through the window? Did anyone yell anything? Did I hear a car? Could it have been someone on foot? Did I have any enemies or possible motives for someone to vandalize my gallery?

  I answered all of his questions patiently, and stumbled over a not that I can think of in response to the last question. The fact that Trinity was still missing and I wasn’t able to report it to the cops definitely was at the forefront of my mind. It wasn’t a stretch to think it could be related. Or maybe it was just some random crime. I had no idea.

  Rhett had asked his colleague to interview me, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he was avoiding a conflict of interest by not doing it himself. I had to tell him. I had to find my lady balls and woman up, and tell him that nothing was going to happen between us.

  But I wasn’t doing it in front of this audience.

  A crime scene tech unwrapped the paper from the brick just as my father walked through the front door.

  “What the hell happened? Are you okay, baby girl?”

  When he rushed toward me, for some reason tears burned in my eyes, and I blinked them away. He was the picture of dad to the rescue.

  Ignoring everyone else in the room, he pulled me into a hug and squeezed. “You scared the hell out of me. I haven’t told your mother yet because I want to know what’s going on so I can answer her questions.”

  Typical Dad, protecting his ladies from anything he could.

  I quickly relayed what I knew, which wasn’t much, and my father looked to Detective Fortier.

  “So, what do you think?”

  The good detective shook my father’s hand. “We’re just starting our investigation, but have no doubt we’ll figure out what happened. Probably just random vandalism. Someone who got started partying a little too early and found a brick to play with.”

  “Sir, I don’t think that’s the case,” the crime scene tech said. She was in her mid to late twenties, and had blondish-brown hair and blue eyes.

  Detective Fortier crossed his arms. “What do you mean?”

  Rhett joined the powwow and looked at the paper she was carefully holding with her latex-covered fingertips. On the paper was a grainy picture with a red slash through it. I didn’t get a clear view of the image until the crime scene tech held it up in front of me.

  “Do you know this girl, ma’am?”

  My stomach dropped to the floor. Trinity. Her hair was a ratty mess—not something she’d ever allow on purpose—and she had a forlorn expression on her face.

  Oh my God. I needed to call Rix.

  “Isn’t that the girl who works here? The one you’ve been mentoring for years now?” my father asked.

  Rhett’s sharp green gaze drilled into mine. “The one that was missing but you said was no longer missing.”

  All three men and the two crime scene techs looked at me.

  In that moment, I had a choice. I could lay it all out for the cops and put Trinity’s safety in their hands, or I could keep my mouth shut and trust that Rix would get her back. Like right now.

  My mouth opened and closed again without words coming out. Finally, I said, “I think this has to be some big misunderstanding. I don’t know why someone would do this.”

  Detective Fortier studied me carefully. “If there’s something you know or something you’re afraid of, it’s in your best interest to tell us right now, Ms. Noble.”

  My father frowned. “Valentina, what’s going on?”

  I opened my mouth to lie to all of them, but both Rhett and his partner’s phones started ringing. Sirens filled the air outside, and my father’s phone started ringing as well. And so did the crime scene techs’.

  What in the world?

  The people on their phones looked at each other, and everyone froze for a moment before asking rapid-fire questions to whoever was on the other end.

  From what I could hear, there was a bomb threat called in on all government buildings in the parish. Police stations, city hall, courthouses, and the like.

  Suddenly my little broken window was no longer important.

  My father turned to me first. “I’ve already got someone on his way to board up the window, and then I want you to get home. It isn’t safe to be out and about right now. I’m going to get your mother. She’ll want you to come to the house, but you decide what you want to do.”

  “I’m fine, Dad. Go do what you need to do. I’m sure whoever you sent will be here in a minute. This is no big deal compared to whatever else is going on out there.”

  “Okay, baby. Call me if he isn’t here in five minutes.”

  I hugged my dad. “Fifteen minutes. It’s going to be a madhouse of traffic out there.”

  Sirens wailed from streets all over the Quarter.

  My dad nodded and turned to go. “Call me when you get home too.”

  “I will.”

  The crime scene techs reached for their gear bags and packed up the evidence. Before it was gone, I snapped a picture of the piece of paper that had been wrapped around the brick. You’d better believe Rix was going to be explaining what the hell was going on.

  Rhett and Fortier were wrapping up their calls, and I watched them out of the corner of my eye as I reached for my phone to text Rix.

  But there was already a text from him.

  RIX: I just heard about your window. Sending someone to fix it. Don’t leave until I come for you.

  How had he heard?

  VALENTINA: Waiting for the repair guy now. My dad sent someone too.

  His response was instant.

  RIX: Be there in 10. Get your company moving out.

  So he knew the cops were here too? How did he know that? Seriously, the things Rix knew were creepy. Had he called in the bomb threat to get the cops out of the gallery?

  And you’ve officially picked him over the cops.

  I’d made my decision. That much was clear. I had a side, and that side wasn’t the right side of the law.

  Rix came in the front door, glass crunching under his feet from the pieces I’d missed with my broom. He didn’t stop to look at the window. He didn’t look at anything but me.

  “You okay, duchess?” His hand cupped my face as he stared down at me, his silver eyes soft but his jaw muscle clenched.

  I nodded. “Just shaken up, I guess. That was a first for me.”

  “My guys are just behind me. We’ll get the window boarded up, and get you out of here.”

  “Is that going to be secure enough? Or do I need to move the artwork?”

  Rix’s thumb skimmed along my jaw. “No one will touch this place. I’ll have people on it 24/7. No one targets you.”

  He dropped his hand and I reached for my phone, the picture of the note on the screen. “What the hell is going on?”

  Rix’s gaze dropped to the screen, but before I got an answer as to why her picture was with the brick, two young black men walked up carrying large pieces of plywood.

  “Later. I gotta go. Shit’s unfolding and I need to be on top of it. I’ll meet you back at your place in a few hours.”

  He turned, and I reached out a hand to grab his arm. “That’s it? You’re not going to tell me anything?”

  Rix met my concerned gaze. “There ain’t nothin’ you can do right now to help your girl. I’m the one who’s got a lock on that. Get home. Set your alarm. When I’ve got news, you’ll hear it from me in person.”

  I cocked a hip, not altogether sold on Rix’s non-informative decree. “And what if I’m not okay with that?”

  One move. That’s all it took for Rix to reach out and yank me against him. “Thought we were on the same p
age, duchess.”

  I pressed both hands to his chest. “I’m starting to wonder if we’re in the same story.”

  His silver gaze was determined. Unyielding. Possessive. “There’s only one story. The one where you’re mine, and you chose me. You didn’t say jack shit to the cops, and you cemented that choice. I’m gonna protect you and your girl, but I’ll do it my way.”

  In my peripheral vision, I could see the men working on the window. Rix must not care about our audience because he didn’t release me.

  “We clear now, duchess?”

  I wasn’t used to this level of caveman behavior in any man of my acquaintance, but Rix had been different from the beginning. He didn’t ask permission. I wasn’t even clear on whether he asked forgiveness. He wrote his own rules, and instead of being completely put off by that, I was drawn to it like metal to a magnet. Something in me responded to his constant display of confidence.

  How a man could be that sure of everything all the time, I didn’t know. But not having to have all the answers and be expected to make all the decisions . . . it freed a part of me. Yet that didn’t mean I didn’t want to have some say, and it surely didn’t change the fact that I wanted to be kept informed.

  I broke the stare with Rix and flicked a glance over his shoulder to the men who were already almost finished boarding up the window.

  “We’ve got an audience.”

  “Don’t care. Just waiting for one word from you, and we’ll be on our way.”

  “Okay. I get it.” His grip on my arms loosened, and I added, “But I want you to fill me in on everything when you get to my house.”

  His fingers flexed, and I could tell he was frustrated with me.

  Rix leaned in close, his breath brushing my ear. “You make me want to turn that ass of yours red, duchess.”

  A shiver worked down my spine as he pulled away, pressed a hard kiss to my lips, and released me.

  Turning, he nodded toward his guys who were packing up their tools. “Let’s go.”

  THE DOORBELL RINGING THREW ME off completely. I’d been expecting Rix to magically show up—despite my active alarm—and find me in my studio where I was covered in more paint than I probably should be. But I’d thrown myself into my work so I could try to stop worrying about whatever might be happening with Rix and Trinity. It wasn’t working.

  It wouldn’t be my parents. They’d called to invite me to stay in their guest room, and when I’d declined, my father had tried to tell me I needed a bodyguard. That hadn’t gone far, and not only because I couldn’t have a bodyguard because said bodyguard would find out about Rix. And then there was the fact that I didn’t need a bodyguard because I had Rix.

  So, who in the world was ringing my doorbell—I glanced at the clock on the wall—after ten o’clock at night? I cleaned my brush, killing time and hoping whoever it was would give up and go away. But they didn’t. The doorbell rang again.

  I need to get that gate latch fixed. And maybe electrify it. Would that be bad? With my luck, I’d zap some Girl Scout selling cookies, and she’d have curly hair for the rest of her life.

  With that random train of thought winding through my head, I paused at the kitchen counter where I’d laid my purse to pull my gun out and stuff it in the back waistband of my yoga pants. After the events of today, I wasn’t taking a chance with my safety. I knew all too well what could happen if I wasn’t careful.

  Not thinking about that. I’ve moved on.

  And I had. The last week held the longest stretches I’d gone without thinking about that night. I took that as a huge win.

  The doorbell rang again and a strong, steady knock followed.

  I peeked through the sidelight. Crap. Rhett.

  He’d had way too many questions in his eyes when he’d stood in the gallery earlier today. He knew that Trinity had been missing, and then I’d dodged answering when he’d asked if I’d found her. Tack on a picture of her wrapped around a brick, and anyone would be suspicious.

  I unlocked the dead bolt and pulled open the door.

  “A little late to be stopping by to invite me for coffee,” I said, shooting for breezy and carefree.

  He didn’t smile. His gaze dropped to the paint on my hands and clothes—and probably on my face.

  “How many of the paintings in your gallery are your work?”

  Of all the secrets I had, that one used to be my most closely guarded. Oh, how my life had changed recently.

  “None.”

  “But there was. The anonymous artist. That was you.”

  It didn’t seem worth the effort to lie about that anymore. “Yes, but no one knows.”

  “Why were you so surprised to see it there? Hell, you were straight shocked.”

  Dammit, his perceptiveness was really starting to become a pain in my rear.

  “Because I didn’t know it was there. Someone decided to push me into showing a piece to prove a point.”

  “Who?” His gaze narrowed.

  “Does it matter?” I countered. “Because that can’t be why you’re here.”

  “Are you going to invite me in?”

  I glanced out the front door to see his Jeep parked on the opposite side of the street. Would Rix notice? Or would he sneak in unaware?

  My heart thumped in my chest at the thought of Rhett and Rix coming face-to-face in my house. In my head, Desi Arnaz’s voice said Lucy, you got some ’splaining to do. I really didn’t want to do any ’splaining tonight, but what choice did I have?

  “It’s pretty late, Rhett.”

  “I’ll make it quick.” His expression stayed blank. This was not a social call, or at least not a lighthearted one.

  I opened the door wider and stepped back. “Then come on in.”

  I made espresso, in part to keep my hands busy, and partly because I wasn’t planning on falling asleep before Rix showed up. Rhett didn’t start talking until I turned around with two espresso cups in hand.

  I set one on the counter where he leaned, opting not to take a seat on a bar stool.

  “Are you going to tell me why you’re here, or are you going to make me guess?” At this point, I decided playing dumb was probably my best bet.

  “I’m pretty sure you know why.”

  “Stop being a cop for thirty seconds and cut the crap, Rhett.”

  That finally got a hint of a smile out of him. “I like the fire when you stop keeping it banked.”

  I said nothing and sipped my espresso. I was still gathering the words to let him down easy when Rhett tipped his double shot back and downed it in a single gulp. His smile faded and he cut right to the point.

  “Where’s Trinity?”

  Lie or don’t lie. What the hell do I do?

  The back stairs that led into the kitchen creaked, and I froze.

  Oh. Fuck. I didn’t use the F-word very often, even in my head, but using it right now made a hell of a lot of sense.

  I didn’t turn to look. Maybe Rix would see Rhett and duck back up the stairs. And how the hell did he get upstairs? He had to have used the front stairs in the foyer.

  Rhett’s eyes went wide with shock.

  Oh shit. Oh fuck. I bit my lip, which was a good move considering the voice I heard next.

  “I’m right here.”

  I spun around, shock and relief coursing through me. My eyes searched every inch of Trinity for evidence of injury or mistreatment. Sweeter relief followed when my inspection revealed a well-rested, well-fed, unmarked girl. She’d never looked more lovely to my eyes. Her hair wasn’t in its usual intricate style, but it looked like she’d recently showered.

  My gaze darted to the stairs for a moment. Rix had to be up there. He’d gotten my girl back, and I couldn’t wait to deliver on what I owed him, even though technically I already had. Mostly, I just wanted to throw myself at him and climb him like a tree.

  My chaotic thoughts and emotions ran together as Trinity came toward me and stopped beside me, leaning slightly against my side. I wrapped
an arm around her and hugged her tight.

  “As you can see, we’re having a bit of a slumber party tonight.”

  Rhett’s eyes were every bit as assessing as mine had been on Trinity. “You just happened to be upstairs?” Skepticism edged his words like blades.

  She nodded. “It’s almost time for me to go to bed, so yeah.” A ring of attitude came through loud and clear. She was still my feisty little trooper. And thank God for that.

  “Where’ve you been the past few days?” Rhett asked. “I stopped by to talk to your grandmother today, and she’s been worried about you. She said she hasn’t seen you in over a week.”

  Trinity stiffened, and I thought for sure the gig was up. We were screwed.

  I opened my mouth to interject something, anything, but Trinity beat me to it. “I was staying with my boyfriend. Gran just didn’t want to admit it to you because she doesn’t approve of pre-marital relations. But I’m eighteen and I’m not committing a crime.”

  Rhett’s gaze sharpened on both of us. “So, why aren’t you with your boyfriend tonight?”

  Trinity trembled beside me. “We got into a fight today and we broke up. When I asked Valentina if I could crash here, she said yes. I’ll go home to Gran soon, but I’m not ready yet. She’s just going to tell me she told me so, and then I’ll get a lecture about why would he buy the cow when he’s getting the milk for free. I couldn’t handle it tonight.”

  Rhett nodded, and I wondered if he was buying it. If I couldn’t feel Trinity’s shivering against me, I might have bought the whole story too.

  “I’m glad you’re all right then. You should definitely keep the people around you informed of your whereabouts. They worry. Especially your boss.”

  “Thank you for your concern, but I’m all good,” Trinity replied.

  Rhett looked to me. “So, how does that explain the brick?”

  Again, Trinity came to the rescue. “It’s my fault. I told my boyfriend I was breaking up with him to spend more time on my art, and that was how he decided to show me how he felt about it. Dick.” She looked to me. “You’re right to avoid men. They’re all assholes.”