Behind the Lies (A Montgomery Justice Novel)

by Perini, Robin

  “The last two days feel like fiction.”

  “Ever hear that truth is stranger? Well, they were right.” He let out a slow stream of air. “Raise my arm up to ninety degrees.”

  The beam of light dropped.

  “Sam, keep the flashlight pointed this way, baby.”

  “OK, Mommy.”

  The illumination spread across Zach’s torso, lighting his face. Jenna clutched his warm hand in hers and slowly moved him into position.

  “Good. Now, turn my arm so my palm is facing toward my head.”

  She watched every facial expression as she turned the limb, but couldn’t read a thing. He set his jaw and looked straight ahead, completely still.

  He blinked once and bent his knee. “Now, I want you to put your foot where my collarbone is.”

  She shook her head. “I could hurt you.”

  “Right now it hurts. I need you to do this for me. Take hold of my hand and pull.”

  “Zach—”

  “Brace yourself. Be firm, but do it slow and easy. You’ll feel my shoulder slip back into place.”

  She followed his instructions. She couldn’t help but wince when she practically stood on the bone. “Are you sure?”

  “Do it,” he ordered through gritted teeth.

  She grabbed his arm. Slowly, she pulled. His arm moved. Nothing shifted. She eased her grip.

  “More,” he ground out. “Again.”

  She closed her eyes and heaved harder. Suddenly, the bone shifted against her.

  “That’s it. You did it.”

  His eyes cleared a bit.

  “Position my arm as if I were wearing a sling,” he said.

  She removed her foot. With the greatest care she knelt next to him and placed his hand against his belly. He didn’t move it. She let her hands linger on his arm and raised her gaze to his, gnawing her lip with worry.

  He nodded with approval. “Not bad for the first time.”

  Her entire body sagged with relief. She bowed her head and sank closer. He caressed the back of her neck with his left hand. “Thank you,” he whispered.

  “Are you all right, Dark Avenger?” Sam said. “I didn’t think you could get hurt.”

  “Everyone can get hurt, Sam. How’s your foot?”

  “Mommy told me I can’t run around the mountains anymore ’cause I twisted my ankle.”

  “Your mommy is a very smart lady.” Zach shifted and came to a sitting position. “Jenna, grab a long bandage out of the first aid kit. We need to immobilize my arm.”

  Within moments, he’d talked her through bandaging. He tested the ties. “Something else you’re a natural at,” he said. Zach rose and reached for the backpack.

  “You might be indestructible in the movies, but this is real life, Dark Avenger. No way are you carrying anything heavier than Sam’s flashlight after I nearly pulled your arm off.” She shoved his hand away. “I’m carrying this.”

  He opened his mouth to argue, and she glared at him, giving him her best I’m serious look. It worked with Sam. Zach’s brow arched. Jenna simply ignored him, heaving the pack with both arms. She planted her feet and gripped the straps tight. “Which way?”

  “Fine,” he said. “Can I have the flashlight, buddy?”

  Sam handed it over.

  “At least someone around here does what I tell them,” Zach groused. “There’s a cave a few hundred yards away. I’ve used it as shelter during a summer rainstorm.”

  Zach led the way, and by the time they reached the dark hole in the side of the mountain, the moon had risen enough to light their path a bit. “Get behind that boulder,” he said, and stood to the side of the entrance.

  Jenna pressed Sam to her side, peering into the inky blackness. Zach tossed a rock into the opening. It clattered inside and rolled to a stop. He repeated the action three times before motioning them out.

  “No one’s home,” he said. “I’ll go first.”

  He ducked his head and stepped through into the cave. The flashlight swept around. “It’s clear. Bring Sam in.”

  Jenna helped her son through the darkened entrance. They picked their way into an eerie combination of dampened walls and a strangely glittering floor as Zach’s beam of light sliced through the shadows.

  “Look, the ground sparkles, Mommy.”

  “It’s called granite,” Zach said. “There are crystals in the rocks.”

  Sam crouched down and ran his fingers along the ground. “How did they get there?”

  Zach stared at her son as if he were a strange alien, then let out a laugh. “I don’t have a clue, buddy. Maybe you’ll be a geologist when you grow up and teach me.”

  Sam scraped at the sparkling floor and Jenna set the pack down. She rubbed her hands together. “It’s getting chilly.”

  “You wait with Sam. I’ll get firewood.”

  “With one arm?” Jenna said.

  “Sam needs you,” Zach said quietly. “It’s been a rough afternoon.”

  Jenna searched his eyes, recognizing the stubbornness. Reluctantly, she nodded.

  “You’ll come back, right?” Sam asked.

  Zach knelt in front of her son.

  “I promise, Sam. I won’t let you down.”

  Each thud of Farzam’s feet on the dusty road pounded another nail of hate into the coffin of his life. He held a bag in his hand, all that was left of his menial job.

  Khalid and his terrorist contacts worked fast.

  Farzam stood outside the hovel he called home. The wretched place would be too expensive now. He didn’t know how he would tell his wife how far they’d truly fallen. He’d be lucky if she didn’t leave him and beg her parents to take her back.

  He pushed open the door.

  His wife sat on the dilapidated couch and stared up at him, her eyes wide with fear. She blinked.

  Farzam shoved away the panic that squeezed his lungs. He whirled around. A man stepped back, hands up in a peaceful gesture. “I am here to help.”

  His accent was unusual. As if he knew numerous languages but owned none of them. With a glance up and down the man’s shabby clothing, Farzam let out a snort. “What can you possibly do? You’re worse off than I am.”

  “Looks can be deceiving.” He took a step toward Farzam. “You lost your position today.”

  His wife gasped, and Farzam glared at the man. “This is my business. Not yours.”

  A woman wearing a full chadri stepped from behind the man, her movement confident. The netting across her eyes hid their color from Farzam, but he could tell from her demeanor she was foreign.

  “You’ve been asking about Zane Morgan,” the woman said, her voice soft, but her accent clearly American. “Why?”

  Farzam rubbed his tired eyes. He’d gotten nowhere in his search, and without any income, he wouldn’t be able to buy information, let alone have enough to survive. His son was lost. His shoulders slumped under the burden. “If you’re going to kill me, don’t bother. We’ll starve to death in a matter of weeks and save you the trouble.”

  The woman stood quiet and still, then tilted her head toward the door. Without hesitation, the man Farzam assumed to be in charge obeyed the silent order and left. Odd.

  “Your son has been taken. Your job has been taken. Your sister is dead. Your life is over,” she said.

  “Get out,” Farzam ordered. No way would he let a woman steal what little remained of his dignity.

  “Zane Morgan caused your downfall,” she said. “His death could rebuild your life, correct?”

  Farzam paused. “Perhaps. If I could start again somewhere Khalid has no reach.”

  “That can be arranged.”

  Farzam stared at his fingers. No one gave something for nothing.

  “What do you want?”

  “I’m giving you a gift. Your heart’s desire.”

  She pulled a poster from a bag she carried at her side. A flyer with a photo of an actor. Farzam read the words. Zach Montgomery IS the Dark Avenger.

  �
��What is this supposed to be?”

  She took out a second poster and Farzam gasped. The hairstyle changed, a beard, a scar on his cheek. This man he recognized. “Morgan?”

  She held the posters side by side. Now, Farzam could see. The same shape of face, the same eyes.

  “Zane Morgan is Zach Montgomery. And I know how you can find him. I can even provide transportation to Colorado in the United States.”

  “Farzam, no. What will we do without you here?” his wife protested.

  “Silence,” he said. “I’m listening.”

  “I thought you might. I know about your brief but very interesting stint in your country’s military. If Zach Montgomery dies, I guarantee you safe passage back and enough funds to provide you with a home, a job, and a new identity anywhere in the world.”

  Farzam’s knees shook. He clutched the rickety chair. His grip broke the arm of the dilapidated furniture. He snagged the two posters and stared at one, then the other. Back and forth. Zane Morgan, Zach Montgomery. The world around him faded away: his wife, his nieces, his home. The images morphed until he met the eyes of the man who had seduced his brother-in-law and sister into betraying the family. The man who had ultimately cost him his son.

  The man whose death would save his son.

  He crumpled the papers. “How do I get to America?”

  Very little could rival the night sounds in the Rocky Mountains or the crisp air. Zach just wished he had a few more supplies for a night on the side of the mountain.

  An owl hooted nearby, and Zach bent over, shifting a small log onto his good arm. Jenna’s place was with Sam, but it would take forever to gather enough firewood to keep all three of them warm for the night.

  Jenna had really come through. If she’d been squeamish, she hadn’t shown it. Not many could complete a shoulder reduction in the middle of nowhere. Jenna Walters—McMann—was a woman who had his back.

  And Sam—well, that kid was something else. He made Zach think of his brothers, and the connection they used to have. A bond Zach had done his best to destroy over the last five years. He’d thought he’d made the right choices; now, he had to wonder. As his entire life slipped away—not only his acting career, but more importantly his national security work—he recognized for the first time how truly alone he’d become.

  With the flashlight balanced in the V of his jacket, kindling and dried grass clutched in his bad arm, and a few logs propped on his left arm, Zach reached his limit. He made his way to the front of the cave and dropped his supplies.

  Jenna looked up from where she’d laid out the space blanket, the protein bars, and the canteen from the pack. Fishing some matches from the side pocket of his backpack, he knelt at the mouth of the cave.

  Sam stared at him, disappointment clouding his face. “Aren’t you going to rub sticks together?”

  Zach chuckled. “A good woodsman brings matches, buddy. Want to help?”

  His young friend nodded and crawled to the entrance.

  “We can’t build the fire in the back of the cave. The smoke isn’t good for us, so we’ll build it at the entrance.”

  Sam nodded eagerly as Zach took him through the steps to place the logs where air would circulate to give the fire the best chance of catching.

  “Did you chop the tree down?” Sam asked, his eyes wide.

  “I’m using dead wood. It burns more easily.”

  With that, Zach struck the match. He took Sam’s hand, and together they lit the kindling, blowing gently until the flames began to feed on themselves.

  “We did it,” Sam said, beaming up into Zach’s face. “Look, Mommy.”

  “Good job.” Jenna smiled gently.

  “Now you’re a wilderness expert,” Zach said, ruffling Sam’s hair. “You hungry?”

  Sam nodded his head.

  “We have two protein bars,” Jenna said.

  Sam frowned. “But there are three of us.”

  “Luckily, we’re in the mountains in June. There’s lots of good stuff to eat. I found some wild cucumber a few feet away from the cave, and I even came across wild strawberries.

  “Watch the fire, Sam. But don’t get too close.”

  Zach dug into his pocket for a knife. He snagged the flashlight and walked outside, turning back toward the cave. If he’d been alone he’d never have risked the fire, but Jenna and Sam needed the warmth. There wasn’t much chance the flames would become a beacon to the wrong people. They’d traveled far into the wilderness. Only a fool would try to track them at night. And Zach didn’t work for fools.

  His mind plotted a route home to get Jenna and Sam on the road as quickly as possible. He wouldn’t be able to carry Sam, so he’d need to take the easiest route for them. Zach crouched down beside the wild cucumber. Pine needles crackled behind him.

  “Let me,” she said, kneeling on the soft earth. “That can’t be good for your shoulder.” She took the knife from him and sliced through the stalks of the plant. “You’re really good with Sam,” Jenna said. “He likes that you don’t talk to him like he’s a baby,” she said, through a smile. “He told me that.”

  “He thinks I’m a superhero,” Zach said, holding another set of stalks so she could make the cut. “What’s not to like?”

  The firelight illuminated Jenna’s features. “It bothers you.”

  “I’m not the Dark Avenger,” he said. “I’m not anywhere close to being a hero.”

  She added the wild cucumber to the pile and laced her fingers through his right hand. Zach’s body tensed at the voluntary touch. His chest tightened as if a vise closed around his heart.

  “You saved my son’s life. You outheroed the Dark Avenger, Zach. You can’t run from that truth.”

  He refused to meet her gaze. She didn’t understand. One saved life didn’t make up for the tragedies he’d caused—his father’s, Pendar’s, probably others.

  She scooted closer to him. “Why don’t you see what I see in you?”

  “Because you don’t see the real me, Jenna. No one does.” He stood, the darkness within rising up and taking over. “If you knew—”

  “What? That you’re human? That you make mistakes?”

  “That I’m not who I pretend to be.” He clasped her arm. “You just found out your husband lied to you for your entire marriage. You need to cloak yourself in skepticism, Jenna. For your sake and Sam’s. You need to see people for who they really are. Even your son.”

  Zach weighed his words, and her need to hear the truth. “Do you know what Sam saw?” he asked.

  Her hand dropped to her side. She backed away. “What are you talking about?”

  “He saw your husband hit you. Sam saw you go back again and again. He believes Brad can change, that a time-out and ‘I’m sorry’ fixes everything. You and I know there are times when nothing makes it OK.”

  An itch rose on Zach’s arm, the same sleeve that had been soaked in his father’s blood. Sometimes sorry meant less than nothing.

  “You can’t let him believe in fairy tales any longer. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.”

  Even in the dim light, Jenna’s face washed out, completely devoid of color.

  “I wanted him to have a father to look up to,” she said. “Like mine. My dad gave me hope and a belief in the possibilities. I want Sam to be optimistic, to dream big.”

  “You can’t afford for him to dream big, Jenna. He needs to be safe. Sam Walters could dream big. Zan McMann has to live under the radar,” Zach countered. “While Brad is still out there, those hopes can’t exist.”

  She turned her back to him. He tried to ignore the hurt fairly vibrating from her.

  “Protect yourself and Sam, Jenna. You have to stop believing in superheroes,” Zach said. “Especially me.”

  She rounded on him. “Why are you doing this?”

  “For your own good. Go back to the cave. I’ll finish here.”

  “Fine. I’ll just go ‘fix’ what my son has seen. I may have made some mistakes, but you und
erestimate us, Zach.”

  He crouched to the ground, refusing to watch her return to their shelter. He sawed a few more wild cucumbers, trying to tear away the guilt at his harsh words. The clouds had hidden the moon, and the forest had grown black, save the littering of stars in the sky. The temperature had dropped. Zach told himself the chill settling in his bones had nothing to do with the truths he’d spoken and everything to do with the weather.

  He made his way to the camp, shocked to hear Jenna’s soft chuckle.

  “Then what happened?” Sam asked, his posture eager as he leaned toward his mother.

  “The warrior knew he had to save the princess…”

  “And her son, the prince,” Sam giggled.

  “Exactly. He had a choice to make. To save himself and his own castle or to protect the princess.”

  “He had to leave his home?” Sam said. “Like we did?”

  “Sometimes you have to leave things behind to move forward. What do you think he did?”

  “He saved the princess and her son.”

  Sam’s voice was so very certain. Zach leaned against the outside rock face and simply listened.

  “What about the diamonds in the floor of the hideout?” Sam asked.

  “Because the warrior sacrificed himself, the Queen of the Forest gifted him with the cave. He was able to take the diamonds and give them to all those who needed help. Until the end of his days.”

  She’d taken a few flecks of crystal in rock and incorporated them into a tale that mesmerized even him. And the message to her son couldn’t be clearer. Sometimes the past had to be left behind—for the best.

  “He did the right thing,” Sam said.

  “Sometimes doing the right thing is hard,” Jenna said quietly.

  Zach cleared his throat and entered the cave. She nudged her son, and Sam stood and faced Zach, meeting his gaze with unblinking courage.

  “I’m sorry I ran away, Dark…I mean, Mr. Montgomery. I’m sorry you got hurt because of me.”

  Zach bent down to Sam. “It’s all right.” He held out one hand, full of green shoots and red berries. “I brought you something to eat.”

  Sam wrinkled his nose. “I don’t eat green stuff.”

  “How about strawberries? Do you like those?”

  Sam nodded.