A Necessary Lie

by Lucy Farago

  “Do you believe in love?” she asked after he’d opened the door and got inside.

  “Uh,” he said, looking as dumbfounded as she felt.

  Where the hell had that come from? “I’m sorry.” She adjusted the seat, anything to hide her face. “I was thinking of Jessie. Funny where your mind goes when you’re mourning.” She moved the seat forward until finally her feet could touch the pedals.

  “And you thought about love?”

  Yeah, she’d think she was crazy too. “No. I remembered how she’d make me watch The Bachelor and how we’d argue over the contestants’ reactions.” That was true. Her mind had taken her there. She’d just leave him out of the equation.

  “I’ve never seen the show. But I understand the premise. One guy, twenty girls. All searching for love.”

  “Something like that.” She pulled out of the gas station and onto the highway, grateful to have anything other than Jessie or Cowboy to focus on.

  “You don’t believe in love at first sight?” he asked.

  “No.” But she could see falling for someone really quickly. “Do you?”

  “Don’t know. It’s never happened to me.”

  “Oh good.” She exaggerated a sigh of relief. “I was afraid you’d fallen for me.”

  “Huh. I thought we were talking about love at first sight? But I’ll tell you…” He scooted down in the seat and slid his cowboy hat over his eyes. “I don’t need a reason to dislike someone immediately, so the opposite is true. Sometimes you know when you sink and from there anything is possible. Take you and me, for instance. I knew you were trouble the moment I laid eyes on you,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching.

  She smiled, then mentally slapped herself for doing exactly what she’d berated him for, taking her eyes off the road. He was the one who was trouble.

  *

  It had taken Cowboy a few minutes to stop obsessing over Grace’s question on whether he believed in love at first sight. He was tired. And a tired brain did all kinds of stupid things. Like wonder exactly what she’d meant. She’d clearly told him she didn’t believe in happily ever after. She certainly wasn’t the type to fall in love at the drop of a hat. He took her explanation at face value. She’d been thinking about Jessie… and not him. He might not be developing real feelings for her, but he was definitely developing something. He cared for her. Didn’t he mean he cared for her.

  Earlier he hadn’t lied, but he hadn’t told her the whole truth when she’d asked why he’d hired himself to be her bodyguard. Grace wasn’t an assignment for him, and even though Jessie did deserve justice, it wasn’t the only reason he’d chosen not to be paid.

  “Cowboy?”

  He opened his mouth to ask what, but it came out as a grunt. He cleared his throat. “Uh-huh.”

  “We’re here.”

  He sat up. Forgetting his hat was over his eyes, it slid onto his lap. He ran his fingers through his hair as he glanced out the window. All he saw were trees. He scrubbed a hand over his face. “What am I seeing?” he asked, blinking and trying get his fuzzy brain to focus.

  She pointed over him and out his window. “That is the road leading up to the cabin. It’s private.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because,” she said, handing him a cup of hot coffee, “when I stopped at the general store down the road, the guy who owned the place told me. The places up here aren’t vacation rentals. They’re all privately owned. It belongs to a doctor friend of theirs.”

  “He told you?” He took a sip of his coffee.

  She nodded. “He thinks I’m doing a story on her and I came up for an interview. She’s very well liked. They’ve been here a while but it’s not their usual time to come up. He said they’re a nice family.”

  “A nice family hiding from something.” The road that had eluded him before he now saw clearly.

  “Someone,” Grace corrected.

  “There’s only one way to find out. How far up the road is the house?”

  “About half a mile.”

  “Good. You got your walking shoes on?” He threw his cowboy hat in the back seat and fingered his hair.

  “Why are we walking?”

  “I don’t want to spook them. If they see us walk up they’ll see us as less of a threat.” He got out of the car and waited for Grace.

  “Then let me do the talking,” she said, joining him at the end of the driveway. “I’m not a scary behemoth of a man who talks funny.”

  “I don’t talk funny.”

  “You have a southern accent. Stanton has a southern accent. We don’t want to give them any reason to be spooked.”

  She had a point.

  *

  Mr. Lewis was the first to come out. Dressed in worn jeans and a baggy t-shirt, he wasn’t the same well-tailored man they’d seen in the picture. This man carried the world on his shoulders.

  “You’re on private property,” he said, politely but firmly telling them to leave.

  Grace identified herself as a reporter and then brazenly pointed out that if they’d found them, so might the Stantons. Smart girl.

  “Who?” he said.

  “This is Daniel Bailey,” Grace said. “Show him your phone, Daniel.”

  Cowboy pulled up Isaiah’s picture and passed the man his phone. Nothing would freak out a parent more than seeing his kid’s image on a stranger’s phone, but they had to let him know they were on to him. While Lewis inspected the photo, Cowboy checked out the property. Through the glass pane of the front door, a woman pointed a shotgun in their direction. Mrs. Lewis. These people were scared.

  Luckily Grace seemed to have things control. “We found that photo in Lyle Stanton’s office. And I may have… accidently, while hiding behind a curtain, overheard him say he wanted the boy found,” she said, trying to look contrite when she wasn’t, all the while expressing concern for his son.

  He had to admit it, she was good. The man had yet to flee inside. Of course the woman who had his back might have something to do with it.

  “We’re here to help. We think Lyle Stanton is responsible for getting my friend killed.”

  “I work for a company called ICU. We have a lot of connections,” Cowboy said, deciding it was time to speak up. “I can see to it that you’re put in a safe house until all of this is sorted out.” ICU had been in the paper a lot in the past year and hopefully Lewis had heard of them. He wouldn’t know what they were really about, but their public image was good, always cooperating with law enforcement. When he saw the spark of recognition light up the man’s face, Cowboy had his answer but not the one he’d been expecting.

  “Do you know Dozier?”

  Cowboy smiled and prayed like hell Dozier hadn’t done anything to piss this guy off. “He’s a close friend.”

  “Come in,” he said, gazing around and into the trees behind them, making certain no one else lurked about. Inside the luxury summer home he told his wife to stand down. Grace hadn’t spotted her through the window and she paled a little.

  Lewis introduced them to his wife. Isaiah was nowhere to be seen.

  “How did you find us?” Mrs. Lewis asked after they’d explained how they knew Stanton was looking for them.

  “Lucky guess. Isaiah’s Facebook. He posted pictures of your time here. This place is remote enough, I figured you might consider it safe.”

  “Why are you hiding?” Grace asked.

  Mr. and Mrs. Lewis wordlessly looked at each other. Probably gauging how much to divulge to two strangers. She nodded to her husband.

  “We got a call, warning us not to let Stanton anywhere near Isaiah. We’d have gladly encouraged our son to be tested as a bone marrow donor, but not at the expense of his life.”

  That needed to be addressed, but first…. “Just to confirm, sir,” Cowboy said. “You are not the boy’s father.”

  Mr. Lewis visibly bristled. “In every other sense of the word I am.”

  “I meant no disrespect.” Flesh and blood
didn’t make someone a better daddy.

  “I got pregnant very young,” Mrs. Lewis said, resting her hand on her husband’s forearm. “I didn’t know much. Except a young black woman carrying the child of a respected politician’s son wasn’t good for anyone. So I told no one and went to live in a group home for unwed teenage mothers. They gave me a job and started my path to the career I have now.”

  “I’m sorry,” Grace said “but I have to ask. This is Edward Stanton’s son?”

  Mrs. Lewis nodded stiffly. Lyle would be none too happy about that. But would it be enough to hurt the boy after he got what he wanted? It was a little extreme even for Lyle. His grandson was dead. Then something so vile occurred to Cowboy that he almost didn’t want to voice it. He had time to mull it over as Grace asked her next question.

  “Do you mind telling me who told you?”

  The pair exchanged another of those looks before Mrs. Lewis answered. “It’s not important.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I think it is. Especially if that someone was Jessie Cook.”

  He had to give it to Mrs. Lewis, she’d tried real hard not to react to Jessie’s name. “Don’t bother denying it.” Cowboy said. “I can see it on your face.”

  “Leave my mother alone.” Isaiah Lewis came down the hall and stood protectively by his mother, big blue eyes daring anyone to try something.

  Cowboy hadn’t expected the young man to be quite so tall; beside him, his mother looked petite. Just like Jessie.

  “It’s all right, son,” Mrs. Lewis said, wrapping her arms around her boy’s waist. “These people are here to help.”

  “Jessie was a close friend of mine,” Grace said. “My roommate, in fact.”

  “Was?” Mr. Lewis said.

  Cowboy moved closer to Grace, wanting her to know he was there. “They pulled her body out of the Colorado River yesterday.”

  Mrs. Lewis covered her mouth in a gasp.

  “Foul play is suspected,” Cowboy continued. “Her rental car was dragged out earlier in the day.”

  “Could she have driven off the road?” Mr. Lewis asked, obviously not comfortable with Jessie being murdered.

  How close had Jessie been to these people? Or were they concerned they would be next? “Not on her own.” Then he went to explain the police’s new theory. “She was in a front-end collision but then someone pushed her car into the ravine. The damage on the guardrail looked like it was done on purpose.”

  “Dear Lord, with Jessie inside?” Mrs. Lewis’s eyes grew glassy.

  So, not simply concerned for their own well-being. “No one is sure. It could have been made to look that way.”

  “Is she the one who called you? Did she warn you about Stanton?” Grace asked.

  The couple didn’t reply, but Mrs. Lewis hugged her boy tighter.

  “I don’t understand,” Isaiah said. “Why would he want to hurt her and why would he want to hurt me?”

  “Son, why don’t you go back to your video games? I’ll come and talk to you once these nice people leave.”

  “No, sir. I’m sorry, Dad, but I’m not a kid anymore. I’ve kept quiet like you’ve asked, but if Stanton hurt Jessie and it’s tied to me, I have the right to know.”

  Mr. Lewis nodded and went to stand behind his family, putting a strong hand on the boy’s shoulder. This family stuck together. How would Cowboy’s life had been different if he’d thought his family would have done the same for him?

  “Why don’t we all go and sit in the living room, where we can be more comfortable? Regina, darling, I’ll fetch some tea. Can I offer you a beverage?” he asked, turning to them.

  “No, thank you,” Grace said.

  “Nothing, thanks,” Cowboy said.

  They followed mother and son into an open great room that overlooked the water. The view was spectacular. More important, no one could approach from the back without being seen. Once they were all seated on opposite caramel-colored sofas, Grace began to speak.

  “You were close with Jessie?” Grace probably wondered why her roommate had never told her about these people. In fact, he was starting to wonder himself.

  “I met Jessie when she and I were volunteering at a home for unwed mothers. She was several years younger but she impressed me nonetheless. She was a great help to me when I needed it. We stayed in touch.”

  “How did you know Edward Stanton?”

  She crossed her legs and leaned into her son, her sudden smile not reaching her eyes. “I worked in a diner on the highway and he’d drop in on his way to college. He struck up a conversation and then became a regular.”

  She was lying. He chanced a peak at the boy. He wasn’t showing the same signs of discomfort his mother was. So whatever it was, he wasn’t in on it. “Forgive me for being blunt.”

  “I know what you’re going to say. But he didn’t seem to object to the color of my skin.”

  Again, she was lying. No, not lying but something.

  “I was going to say that the Stantons don’t strike me as the diner type.”

  “Oh. Yes, I have to agree with you.”

  “So you dated?” Grace asked.

  “No,” she said far too fast to be a simple no. “I mean we went out. I wouldn’t call it dating. I was young and naïve. When he said his grandfather wouldn’t approve, I realized any…future I may have been entertaining was foolish. So I ended it. A few months later I realized I was pregnant.”

  Mr. Lewis returned with the tea for his wife and, after he’d set the mug down on the coffee table, he took a seat next to her and his son.

  “So the real question here is, why did Jessie feel that Stanton would hurt Isaiah?” Cowboy had his suspicions but no way would he say it in front of the boy.

  “She didn’t say,” Lewis said. “Only that we were to get out of town.”

  “And you took what she told you at face value? You didn’t want to know why?” Grace asked.

  Grace and he were of the same mind. This was bullshit.

  “Do you have children, Ms. Irvine?” Mrs. Lewis asked, looking directly at Grace, then at him.

  “No.”

  “Well, let me tell you. When someone you trust says your son is in danger, you listen. Jessie wasn’t one for exaggeration. If you knew her then you’d understand.”

  Cowboy slid a hand to the small of Grace’s back. It had the desired effect as her shoulders eased back to their comfortable state.

  “No,” Grace agreed. “She wasn’t. Still, I find it hard to believe you didn’t ask her why.”

  “There was no time,” Mr. Lewis jumped in. “She’d left a message for us to call. When we did she told us to leave immediately.”

  “She was supposed to call later and explain. Now we know why we haven’t heard from her,” his wife said, her voice catching. “Poor Jessie. Hadn’t she suffered enough?” she asked her husband.

  He reached out and gave her hand a squeeze.

  Now he and Grace exchanged a look. But unlike Grace, Cowboy understood. The Lewises knew Jessie had been raped. Did they know about him? He had to remind himself they wouldn’t know what he looked like, then or now.

  “Isaiah, we aren’t going to learn anything new here and your mother doesn’t like to be upset in front of you. You know how she is. Go to your room, son.”

  When Isaiah didn’t move, but instead gave his father a defiant stare, Lewis changed his tone. “You’re not a child. I apologize for treating you like one. We’ll keep you informed of anything new. I promise.”

  That seemed to appease the boy; he kissed his mother on the cheek and stood. “You going to help find her killer?” Isaiah asked Cowboy.

  “I’m going to try,” Cowboy said.

  “Good. She was a nice lady.” Then he left, but not before giving his father a quick hug.

  Admittedly jealous, Cowboy watched the young man as he went down the hall and returned to his room. How many times had Isaiah’s dad told the kid he’d amount to nothing? Cowboy would bet not a single one. Looking back as an
adult, he understood his own father had most likely been attempting to get him to fall into line, to be more like his brothers. But when you’re a kid, you don’t see things that way. If not for his mother Cowboy might very well have become a different man, one no one would like.

  “Now that your son is gone,” Grace said, “how about filling us in on what you’re not telling us. And please let me remind you, Jessie is dead.”

  Yes, she was, but he was alive and kicking and he wasn’t so sure he wanted Grace to know Jessie’s past. However, he could see no way to stop this train wreck determined to turn his life into one big damn mess.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Mr. Lewis said. “Drink your tea, Regina, and you’ll feel better.” He picked up the mug and passed it to his wife.

  “I love you.” She set the cup back on the coffee table. “But this needs to come out. A woman is dead. Protecting me serves no purpose.” She motioned with her hand to encircle the house. “Look at us. This isn’t our vacation home. It’s our prison. Do you expect us to stay here forever? And if he finds us, the way these people did? Then what?”

  Just as Cowboy had suspected, Regina Lewis and Jessie Cook shared a dark secret. A secret Lyle Stanton wanted dead and buried with the man responsible. It was starting to make sense now, Lyle’s desperate need for the world never to find out about Isaiah Lewis.

  “We’ll find somewhere else to hide. Mr. Bailey has said he’ll help us.” He argued with his wife, but in his eyes one could see he knew she was right.

  “Is that the life we want for Isaiah? Think of him. Once it’s out and in the open, Lyle Stanton can do nothing about it.”

  “He’s a powerful man, Regina. Don’t fool yourself. And Isaiah, you truly want him to know the truth?”

  “Of course not. The whole truth doesn’t need to be told.”

  “Jessie wanted none of it to be told. She believed the boy was in danger. Look what happened to her.”

  “Please,” Grace said, interrupting the pair, who appeared to have forgotten they had company. “Maybe we can find a way to use what you tell us to find the proof to put Stanton away.” She looked to Cowboy for confirmation.