In his truck, her stomach growled and she realized how hungry she was. Too exhausted to feel like cooking tonight, she jerked her chin toward a hamburger drive-through. “Pull in there. I’d like a burger tonight.”
Wordlessly he complied, taking her money and ordering through the window for her. Very businesslike.
Something had changed.
In her apartment, they sat at the table and ate their burgers in silence. She decided to break it.
“When do we do Falco?”
“The plans have changed,” he stated simply, and a sudden fear coursed through her. He wouldn’t take this away from her, would he?
“You didn’t do him today, did you?”
He smiled ruefully. “No. I didn’t. I had to move the bodies. Liam is close to being onto me. He and Lilith suspect the others have been murdered. The cops are probably going to come question you.”
“Why? What do they know?” Panic filled her, and for the first time, she saw herself in prison whites. Her blond hair that had been black for years would come in. She would be a convicted killer. Wouldn’t that be ironic? Convicted of killing the men who’d gotten off for killing her sister. She idly wondered if she could hire the same lawyer they’d used.
“Nothing. They don’t know anything. But it’s on police record that you filed charges against them for attacking you so soon before they disappeared.” He let his words sink in, and she realized the foolishness of going to the police.
“I shouldn’t have even done that.”
“No. It was the right thing to do.” He said the words quietly, and she realized it was the first reassuring thing he’d ever really said to her. He sounded rueful, and she looked at him to see a strange look flit across his face, a cross between longing and regret. His eyes were cast down, at his lap, his hamburger forgotten on the table. “You’re a lot like her.”
That struck her. She couldn’t even respond.
Was Sunny who he had fucked last night?
Her own hamburger tasted like ashes.
Then a thought struck her. Theo knew everything about these guys. “Was that you that night?” Her question was a whisper, and he didn’t even have to nod silently for her to know. Of course it was. He followed them, knew their patterns, knew everything they did. “Did you know it was me?”
He shook his head and his eyes finally found hers, taking her breath away. “Not at first.”
His eyes were fathomless pools of darkness, his face etched with lines no thirty-something should have. He was so tortured, it was heartbreaking. This whole situation changed Theo’s life more than it had hers. It finally sunk in, how selfish she’d been with the killings. He was the one who’d been tied up, helpless while they’d tortured her sister. He was the one who had to watch it all. All of it.
He was the one who survived and had to live with the fact he’d survived when he’d begged them to do those things to him instead.
She hadn’t been there. She hadn’t earned the right to have anything to do with this. Yet he’d shared it with her anyway.
Dusty took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Attempting some semblance of levity, she said, “Then I guess I need my story straight. On the nights in question, I came home after work and went to bed, maybe slept with my hot bodyguard. That was it. Are you my alibi?”
“Yeah.” His smile was weak, yet it softened the creases in his face and made her insides brighten marginally. She liked his smile. This was the first time she’d seen it, and she wished he would smile more. She also knew it probably wasn’t really in his nature anymore to smile like he used to.
A memory of his smile on her, back when he’d thought she was Sunny, brought a tear to her eye. She wished he would smile at her like that.
“Okay, then. I’m going to go to bed.” She stood, crushing her napkin and sweeping her burger into the trash. His innocence had been stolen, cruelly. She had no right to his retribution.
“For the record, I’m done. You can have Falco. I know you need him. I don’t.” There. She said it out loud. Shock registered on his face before he schooled his features.
“Okay. It’ll get it taken care of.”
She left him sitting at the table, staring at his hamburger as she went into her bedroom and closed the door. The tiny room still smelled like their time together last night, and more tears leaked from her eyes.
Dusty didn’t know what she was doing, only that one moment it felt so right she could swell until she burst. The next minute everything felt so incredibly wrong and she felt like she was betraying both Theo and Sunny’s memory, as well as everything her parents had ever taught her about being a good person. She may have been a willful child, a free spirit, a little wild, but she’d always been good.
Now she wasn’t so sure.
Theo couldn’t bring himself to speak to Dusty again.
After that conversation, the next week was nothing less than awkward. Damn near torture. Dusty would go to work, Theo would come for his shift, and then they drove home in silence, to silence. They moved around her apartment, her eating, him sitting on the couch staring into space. He shadowed her, but that was it.
He did his job and kept her safe. Wednesday, he was sitting by the window of her living room after she’d eaten and gone to shower.
That’s when he saw the figure with the unmistakable stance.
Falco had a way of standing, head forward, shoulders back. He hadn’t ever been in the military, but his father was, and apparently posture was ingrained in him. Falco’s father had wanted more from his son than a two-bit criminal, but unfortunately that wasn’t in the cards. Still, the posture was telling.
It reminded Theo of a turtle.
His bottom lip stuck out, his shadow under the streetlight emphasizing it.
Recognition meant Falco knew where Dusty lived. He was actively pursuing her, letting them know he was watching. He probably knew she was in on the disappearances of his cohorts. His own imminent disappearance.
And he was watching her apartment.
Theo turned on the lamp on the table next to him, casting himself in a silhouette Falco couldn’t miss. The red glare of Falco’s cigarette rose to his lips, glowed bright for a moment, then dropped to the ground and he was gone.
So he’d seen Theo, knew she wasn’t alone. Had he thwarted a plan to break in tonight?
It only meant Theo’s timeline was moved up.
The next few days passed with nothing from the police, and Theo had started to relax a bit. Even so, he knew he had to go back and do more burning at his country house. He had to get rid of those bodies. He was coming up with something different for Falco, but the details were still fuzzy.
One morning, after another night of stilted conversation with this woman he was quickly coming to think about too damn much, he left her apartment in Lilith’s capable hands and drove straight to his house in the middle of nowhere.
He totally saw the navy-blue Explorer following. Liam was going to have a chat and a look-see at his new place. Whatever. So he’d probably have to come back tomorrow. He couldn’t very well turn around. That would raise suspicion even higher, if Liam suspected him of anything.
He did a mental recount of where on the property the bodies were, knowing full well if he and Liam stayed at the house, Liam couldn’t smell any decay or find any burnt barrels or anything.
But what if wild animals had dragged something up to the house?
Well, then, he would go to jail. That had always been a possibility, and he knew it.
He could only play the part of innocent homeowner and hope for the best at this point.
Two hours after leaving the city he pulled up in his driveway and cut the engine. Emerging from the driver’s door, he let himself inside his house, dropping his keys on the table by the door. Then he went back outside to grab a pallet of shingles and moved to the side of the house.
Liam pulled in behind him. Theo waved hello and opened the garage door where he kept his ladders.
/> “Hey, man, what’s up? This is quite a hike for you.”
“Why did you come all the way out here when you have a job in six hours?” Liam didn’t sound accusatory, but rather just curious.
“It’s supposed to rain next week, and I’ve done a bunch of work to my kitchen, but the roof is really leaky over it. I was going to try to patch it real quick so it didn’t fuck up my sheetrock work. Slap some shingles on, you know?” He tugged his tall ladder out of the garage. “Who’s watching Dusty? You’re supposed to be, aren’t you?” He kept up the same curious tone, to match Liam’s, but his insides itched.
“Lilith is. I’ll help. Maybe you can actually finish today and won’t have to come back tomorrow.”
Sounded like Theo would be back tomorrow. Especially if Liam stayed today.
“Suit yourself.”
Theo slung a stack of shingles over his shoulder, motioning for Liam to do the same, and started climbing up the ladder to the part of the roof over his kitchen.
He’d redone sheetrock, but the kitchen only had an old stove and a barely operating refrigerator in it. Nothing that he wasn’t planning on replacing eventually. Hopefully, Liam wouldn’t want a tour because he’d lied his balls off.
Thankfully, it wasn’t too hot, and Liam wasn’t a complete idiot with a hammer. Still, it took a little while for them to get into a routine and work efficiently, hammering new shingles over old shingles in a made-up Hail Mary that this would keep the water out of the inside of his house.
“So, I used to be a cop, and I have a gut that tells me things, cliché as it sounds.”
Great. Here it comes.
“Yeah? I bet you have some stories.” Theo was just trying for idle chitchat. He did not want to get into deep shit right now.
“Yeah. One is about a guy with a tragic past who’s hell-bent on revenge. He’s not wrong, but he’s not right either.”
Theo pounded the nail into the shingle in one swing of the hammer. He slammed the hammer down once more, mostly for effect.
Leaning back on his heels, he leveled Liam with a glare.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I think you’re involved. But your tracks are covered pretty well. I just hope you’re not dragging the client into it.” His voice was cool, not betraying any emotion one way or the other. “One of the reasons I took this job after retiring from the force was the sense of justice it gave me. It’s strong. But there’s only so much I can stand behind, you know?”
“No. I don’t.” He wasn’t admitting to shit. Not now. Not when he was so damn close.
“I’m saying killing a man in self-defense or if someone is in imminent danger is one thing. Cold-blooded and premeditated is something else altogether.”
Theo hammered down another shingle, forcing himself to take it easy. Liam didn’t have anything on him. He couldn’t. In fact, he’d just said Theo had covered his tracks pretty well.
Still…
“Based on what evidence?” Theo managed to ask as he grabbed another shingle.
“Just a hunch.”
“So you came out here to what? See if I had dead wannabe gangsters’ bodies stashed up here? Maybe buried in my woods out there? You wanted to see if I had that last one bundled up in the bed of my truck, whisking him away up here?” He allowed the indignation to show, hoping it would help his case.
“No. I came out here to tell you to be careful.” Liam stood, knees bent against the pitch of the roof. “If I have a hunch, someone else might get one too. Someone who cares about their job on the force more than I did.” Theo knew Falco was watching Dusty. He hadn’t told SEPS about the apartment. No reason, he just hadn’t. If he could get away with this for a few more days, Falco would be taken care of. In fact, he’d try to do something tonight. Just a bullet. All he would need was one bullet. The rest of this show was just some bullshit vengeance thing he’d cooked up during lonely nights on a cot in the Middle East. It wasn’t necessary. Really. The dude just needed to die.
Liam brushed his hands against his thighs and gingerly stepped toward the ladder. “I don’t really think you need my help anymore. I’ll see you for your shift. I need to go let Lilith go home.”
When his head disappeared down the ladder and Theo heard the Explorer start up and drive away, he exhaled deeply.
Great. First Po, and now Liam. There was no way he’d be able to keep this job when he was finished, even if he wanted to. Which he didn’t.
He put away his things and climbed down from the roof. He still had two hours to finish up the body disposal. He would have to work fast.
Tomorrow night would be his night for Falco. That was fine. His plans were solid enough at this point; he could make a minor adjustment. Thursday night was poker night. He’d just waylay him in his car on the way. He’d play the part of the boogeyman in the back seat.
Theo watched the bar fill up. It was busy for Dusty’s normal. She didn’t seem to mind, though, flitting around from customer to customer, her smile beaming from her face while she poured drinks, laughed at jokes, and cleaned up spills.
His earlier thoughts still stood. He would just kill Falco. No need for all the dramatic torture he’d planned. He’d done the other guys without a qualm, no hiccups, with the slight exception of Dusty joining in. But now, it just needed to be over. For her safety. He’d made his point. Falco needed to die.
The longer he drew this out, the more danger she was in, and now, he suddenly cared.
Theo rolled his eyes at himself in the mirror behind the bar.
He didn’t need to care for the woman. He hated her, right?
No, he didn’t. That much had become obvious. He hated himself, because he didn’t hate her. That’s what was happening. He was suddenly angry at Sunny, of all people, for leaving him.
They were supposed to have more time together—a lifetime. Instead, they’d had, what? Months? And she’d waged a war with his landlord for raising his rent that ended in her death.
The anger felt good. He knew it was misplaced, but it was easier to be angry at the dead sister than the living one. He closed his eyes and embraced the shift in emotions. It felt good. Calming, almost.
For years, he’d tried to talk to his dead wife. In bunks overseas, at night when other soldiers had been snoring, crying, praying, he’d been talking to his wife, desperate to hear something back. Some direction. He’d always gotten a big fat load of nothing in return.
Right now, this anger was something. He felt closer to her now in his anger than he had in the decade since, in his vengeance.
He opened his eyes, taking a deep breath in, smelling the now-familiar scents of Dusty’s bar.
Dusty wasn’t behind the bar right now. She was on the floor, serving a tray full of drinks to a table full of college kids. A round of bright-green shots and a pitcher of beer with glasses.
A light sheen of sweat coated her shoulder blades, and the tank top she wore had little dark spots between her shoulder blades. The tank top was cut low, and he could see the tops of her breasts peeking out of the top. Coupled with the short, lightweight skirt she wore, and the previous knowledge of her body, Theo was hard as a rock, just looking at her.
She came up next to him to drop off the tray and her scent wafted over him. He closed his eyes to control his urges, and he heard a voice in his ear.
“Let me go.”
His eyes snapped open, and he looked around. Dusty was gone, not having stayed to chat, and was back around the bar. There was a guy sitting near him, but not next to him.
And the voice was Sunny’s. Lighter and clearer than Dusty’s, it had been her voice, plain as day.
Gooseflesh covered his forearms and the back of his neck. Sunny had just spoken to him. For the first time since her death.
He could have cried.
For years after her death, he’d put himself in the most dangerous situations, hoping she would protest from beyond the grave. He strained himself during quiet moments, longing to
hear her, to feel her.
He’d gotten nothing.
Now, ten years later, in a crowded bar, while he had turned his anger to her and had a hard-on for her sister, she chose this moment to talk to him.
Theo knew without a doubt those three words had come from his dead wife.
They weren’t what he’d ever wanted to hear. He’d wanted words of love, of encouragement he was doing the right things with his life without her.
But she’d just let him go.
Well, not really. She’d just told him to let her go.
The anger was still there, but it was swelling to fill a hole she’d left in her death. It was a welcome feeling, giving him something to latch on to.
He chugged what was left of his beer, grimacing at the warm yeastiness clogging up his throat. Bruce, the guy behind the bar, looked at him funny before bringing him a shot of something and setting it down on a napkin from the neat stack next to him.
Theo tossed it back, not even feeling the burn until it hit his belly.
“That’s on me.” Bruce winked and walked away, helping other customers.
Theo held the glass in his hand, wondering what the hell he was doing. He was messing up the job. His plans had been derailed and he was planning the last kill to be efficient and quick, which defeated his initial buildup and finale.
And he was falling for fucking Dusty of all people.
He gripped the shot glass and looked down at the napkin.
A faint lipstick stain stared at him.
He’d watched Bruce pull it off a stack of napkins. Unless Dusty reused paper napkins, which would be gross and probably a health code violation, it was another message.
She was saying goodbye.
Her bar hadn’t been this busy in a while. She knew this week was finals week, and the college kids were out celebrating, but they usually didn’t celebrate here. But she wasn’t complaining. She had plenty of liquor and would accommodate as long as they weren’t too rowdy. The regulars had all tapped out, except for Don, who sat at the bar telling his stories to new ears with younger bodies and shorter shorts.
The Secrets We Keep Page 9