Tell Her No Lies

by Kelly Irvin

  Nina took a breath and relished that thought. Only Jan was missing. Deployed. Still in the danger zone of a different sort. God, protect her and bring her home safely. This family has suffered so much loss. Please.

  Jan hadn’t said much when Nina shared the news via Skype. She shrugged and offered a resigned smile. Then went back to her job. Healing work needed to be done. Life’s loose ends could not be tied up neatly. Fairy-tale endings were for Grace’s romance novels and Lifetime movies.

  In the meantime Nina honed her rusty prayer skills every night. For Jan, for Hudson, for Emma, for Brooklyn, for Grace. A long, long list of people hurt by a selfish, psychotic woman.

  Nina was still working on praying for Liz.

  She turned to the enormous black-and-white photos that adorned the walls. These were her heroes tonight. People who experienced homelessness and found ways to survive.

  The frail man with his shopping cart. The men gathered around the trash fire with their bottle in a paper sack. The pregnant woman curled up on a filthy blanket under the I-10 at the Martin Street highway overpass. The toothless, grizzled man in overalls, barefoot, pulling a red Radio Flyer wagon filled with all his earthly possessions. A little girl with a dirty face and runny nose in a diaper riding a tricycle dwarfed by a passing semi on the highway behind her.

  On and on they went. In each area video vignettes ran on a continuous loop. The interviews she and Aaron had conducted over the last year. Stories of jobs lost, health deteriorated, wars that didn’t stay overseas but came home with a soldier who couldn’t close his eyes at night without seeing and hearing and reliving the explosion that killed his buddies. Stories of women abused by husbands, homes repossessed, children living in cars, and men driven into the street by voices that couldn’t be stilled, no matter how much they drank.

  Aaron had done a masterful job of editing digital images to look like black-and-white film, giving them a beautiful Vietnam-newsreel-era feel. Stories that needed to be told and that Nina and Aaron needed to tell.

  “There you are.”

  Looking sharp in the only suit he owned, Aaron approached. He carried an armful of red, pink, and yellow roses. “For you, my lady.” He kissed her gently on the lips and handed them over. “You look gorgeous.”

  “Thank you. This old thing?”

  They grinned at each other. What she would wear to the reception had been a topic in dispute for nearly two weeks. She wanted to wear black slacks and a white blouse. Grace objected. One day her mother had appeared at her bedroom door with a box from Dillard’s. A beautiful electric-blue sheath with a lacy overlay that fit like a glove and flared gently just about the knee. Along with matching ballerina flats, a nod to Nina’s staunch refusal to wear heels.

  “Every girl needs a party frock,” Grace said before settling into a chair to watch her daughter try it on.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She inhaled the roses’ heavenly sweet scent. “More than fine. Content. Come what may. The best is yet to come.”

  They were clichés. But every cliché had at its core an eternal truth that made people say it over and over until it lost its burnish. She wasn’t a writer tonight. She was a bruised, battered survivor. Just like her Haven for Hope friends. She’d weathered the storm and still stood firm. Better than ever. Her faith had emerged from the storm, as unsteady as a toddler’s just learning to walk, but on the right path.

  “People love the photos.”

  “I don’t want them to love them. I want them to be up in arms. I want them to notice these people and really see them for the first time in their lives.” She tried to tether her emotions, but they chomped at the bit. “I want them to stop and say hello and offer to take them to dinner when they see them on the street instead of ducking their heads and hiding their eyes.”

  “Preaching to the choir, my friend.”

  “I know.” If anyone understood, Aaron did. Because he understood her like no other man ever had or ever would. Like the fairy tales, she was allowed her knight in shining armor. Together they had saved their world. No princess in a tower, she had been on the battlefield with him. A mighty team.

  “I’m glad Hudson and Emma were okay with including photos of their mom.” His hand rubbed Nina’s back. She closed her eyes and let the comfort of his touch ease the tension that held her captive. “I’m glad you decided to include them.”

  Swallowing against sudden tears that tended to appear out of nowhere, she took a breath and nodded. She couldn’t talk about it. Not yet. Not even to the therapist. Emma and Hudson now had their own child psychologist recommended by Nina’s. They needed a neutral party to whom they could talk. They needed time to become a part of this new family and accept that their mother, a murderer, had given up their custody to Nina without a fight.

  One photo of Liz captured the desperation mingled with bravado that was her mother at Haven that day in the commons. The smoke rings hung in the air. Her lips were puckered as if she might give Nina a kiss. But she didn’t.

  She never had. Not in her entire life. That the present tense should be no different should not surprise Nina. It didn’t.

  Another photo captured the moment she had ruffled Emma’s curls that night in the backyard before she tried to kill Nina. She had the most maternal of smiles on her thin lips. She looked like every mother Nina had ever known. In the outtake group photo her skinny arms flailed, fingers splayed, her head thrown back, mouth open, as if she’d erupted with laughter at the very moment the shutter clicked. Hudson had rabbit-ear fingers behind Emma’s head. Little Emma crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue.

  They looked happy.

  Photos might be worth a thousand words, but sometimes photos lied. They told stories that didn’t exist, had never existed, would never exist.

  Nina had scanned Liz’s letters and created captions with excerpts in her biological mother’s handwriting. They hung below each of the five photos on display. The juxtaposition of optimism and reality made Nina stare into the darkness every night, unable to sleep. No audio vignette existed for this story.

  The thought of her mother’s voice blaring in this exhibit at this moment was unbearable.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Aaron’s hand crept around her shoulders and squeezed her tight against him. He had such strength, such broad shoulders. “You’re shivering.”

  “Here comes trouble.”

  Dressed in his usual natty blue suit, Matt King strode toward them. For once he smiled. “Congratulations. It looks like your exhibit is a hit, if the lack of parking spaces means anything.”

  “I’m surprised you’re here.” Aaron shook the detective’s hand. “You don’t strike me as the art exhibit type.”

  “Actually, I just bought a loft condo north of downtown. Right there on Madison Square Park.” He grinned. “I need something to hang in the living room. And this is a good cause. Cops see what homelessness does to people every day.”

  Proceeds from the sale went to Haven for Hope. Another reason to like this man who’d saved Aaron and her lives that night in the darkroom. “Which one did you pick?”

  “The little girl in a diaper riding her tricycle under the overpass.”

  “That should make for some interesting conversations when you bring home dates.”

  “I don’t bring home dates. I’m a good Christian boy.”

  Another thing she hadn’t known about Detective Matt King. “How are you?”

  “Cleared by the officer-involved shooting team and back on full duty.”

  “I know, but how are you?”

  “If you’re asking me if I regret shooting Skeeter Miles, the answer is I sleep just fine. I hope you do too.”

  “I’m working on it.”

  “So how is your partner—your real partner?” Aaron threw in the question.

  “I forgot for a second that you’re in the news business. Always on the job.” King chuckled. “Off the record? He’s asked for a new part
ner. He says I’m trigger happy. I say the guy committed suicide-by-cop. The shooting team agrees. Looks like Manny Cavazos and I will be paired up from now on.”

  Until the next incident. Maybe she should introduce him to her counselor. “Try to be careful. Next time it could be you who takes the bullet.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He saluted. “I’ll be by tomorrow to pick up my piece. Don’t let anyone else grab it.”

  “No worries.”

  He strode away, another hit-and-run completed. He probably intended to go home to that condo and make notes on a new case or back to HQ to comb through evidence.

  “I think you made a new friend.” Aaron shook his head. “I hope you’re up for that.”

  She shrugged. King needed a woman in his life. Nina needed to do some matchmaking. A person couldn’t have too many friends. “Absolutely.”

  Aaron’s arm tightened around her waist. “Before we get into the speeches and all that jazz, there’s something I want to ask you. It’s important.”

  “Of course.”

  He turned to face her. With great care he took the roses from her arms and laid them on the closest white-linen covered table. She longed for her camera to capture that moment. He dropped to one knee.

  “Aaron, are you all right?” She glanced around. Grace, Trevor, Will, and the children were drifting their direction. Her friends from Haven right behind them. His buddies from the news business. They all had grins the size of Texas on their faces. A wave of anticipation crowded her. The music faded. The room grew quiet. “What’s going on?”

  Aaron plucked a small black velvet box from his suitcoat pocket. He cleared his throat. “I had this whole speech prepared. I can’t remember any of it. I have loved you since the day I met you. We both know how short time can be, and I don’t want to waste another minute of it.” He snapped the lid open. A simple solitaire diamond glistened in the gallery lights. “I know how hard it is for you to trust. I can be trusted. I will love, honor, and cherish you. I promise never to leave you of my own accord. You can trust me, and even more, you can trust God. Nina, will you marry me?”

  A thrill ran through Nina. For a second it seemed as if her ballet flats lifted from the burnished tile floor and she floated in the air. That kind of thing didn’t happen to a woman like her. Until now.

  No waiting. No more wasted time. No fear. Smiling, she knelt. “Yes, I’ll marry you. Will you marry me?”

  Aaron let out a whoop. One fist pumped. His newsroom buddies Snoopy-danced around the room. An intricate series of high and low fives followed by fist bumps commenced.

  A flash caught her by surprise. Emma used her new camera, a gift from Grace, to take photos of this special moment. Aaron’s best photog buddy was shooting the proposal. Likely it would be seen on Channel 29’s nine o’clock newscast. News families were like that. She would be a part of that family now.

  “We better give them something to talk about.” Aaron slipped the ring on her finger. He took her hand and together they stood. “Seal it with a kiss?”

  He leaned in. Nina stretched up to meet him halfway. The kiss went on and on. Catcalls sounded and more applause.

  Eyes closed, Nina captured the image in her mind. No need for a camera. No need for a lens to filter the view. She could see their future clearly. Always together as long as they both shall live. God was in charge of how long that would be. She could live with that too. Their new story had begun.

  A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  While Tell Her No Lies is a work of fiction, the plight of people experiencing homelessness is not. Haven for Hope is a real place in San Antonio, Texas. Haven serves the needs of thousands of men, women, and children every year. They come from all walks of life. Many are veterans who have served their country honorably. Many suffer from mental illness. All need our prayers. Financial help is also appreciated. If you’re interested in learning more about Haven for Hope, visit the nonprofit organization’s website at http://www.havenforhope.org.

  I take joy in every book I write, but Tell Her No Lies has a special place in my heart. Early in my fiction-writing career, I published two romantic suspense novels. Then I switched genres to Amish romances. I love writing those books, but romantic suspense was my first love. It’s been my dream to be able to share the story in Tell Her No Lies for several years. My dear editor and friend, Becky Monds, stepped up and presented the manuscript to her HarperCollins Christian Publishing team. She encouraged her colleagues to take a chance on it. Her efforts helped make my dream come true. My heartfelt thanks go to Becky for her support and her fantastic job of editing the manuscript. I also want to thank my agent, Julie Gwinn, for her hard work in diligently searching for the right home for it. As always, line editor Julee Schwarzburg has saved me from a deluge of errors. Her patience is monumental.

  A huge thanks goes to retired San Antonio Police Detective Richard Urbanek. Richard tweaked Detective King’s homicide investigation techniques. His knowledge of police procedures was invaluable. Richard was a good sport in reading a romantic suspense novel, and he also caught a couple of historical inaccuracies that would have been embarrassing for me. His observation that, in the end, this is a work of fiction reminded me that sometimes writers are allowed a little poetic license.

  I’m also in debt to my husband, Tim Irvin, for his expertise regarding the profession of news photography and the TV news business in general. His insight garnered from twenty-five years in the business helped to give an authentic ring to those scenes in this novel. His expertise regarding digital video cameras was particularly helpful. Any remaining factual errors are all mine.

  I thoroughly enjoyed setting this book in my adopted hometown of San Antonio. Readers, please know that while I’ve used the names of real businesses, particularly media outlets, in this story, all the characters and crimes are figments of my overactive imagination. If I’ve fudged on locations or descriptions for my own purposes, please forgive me. I take full responsibility for any inaccuracies.

  Finally, my deepest appreciation goes to my readers. May you be blessed by our Lord Jesus Christ.

  DISCUSSION QUESTIONS

  1.Sometimes the people who should love us the most are the ones who also hurt us the most. How do you deal with hurt and strife caused by family members?

  2.Nina has a hard time seeing God the Father as someone she can trust after she realizes that her adopted father has been lying to her for years. What would you say to her to help her understand how different her heavenly Father is from her earthly father?

  3.Nina spent part of her early life being homeless and coping with the stark realities of her situation. As an adult she volunteers to help homeless people in her community. She incorporates their struggles into her art. What does Scripture say about helping those who are poor or hungry? Do you incorporate good works into your life? How?

  4.Rick overcame poverty to attend law school and run for public office. Then he allows his desire for power and acclaim to send him down a path of crime and self-destruction. Is power or public acclaim important to you? Do we sometimes get carried away, trying to make our dreams come true? How do you make sure you’re walking the path God has chosen for you?

  5.Aaron cares deeply for Nina, but he’s never stepped up and told her that he has feelings beyond friendship for her. Do you think he’s right to keep his feelings to himself in favor of friendship? Is friendship sometimes more important than romance? Was he right to act on his feelings in the midst of the turmoil in Nina’s life?

  6.Nina’s mother, Liz, takes revenge on Geoffrey out of bitterness and anger that she has stored up for years. While the great majority of us will never commit a heinous act of murder the way Liz did, we are guilty of harboring bitterness and anger. Sometimes we let it show through smaller, petty acts and words. How do you let go of these feelings? What do you do with negative thoughts? What does Scripture tell us to do?

  7.Nina says she has forgiven her adoptive father for his deceit, but she’s still working
on forgiving her mother for murdering him. What does Scripture say about forgiveness? Is there someone in your life you need to forgive? What keeps you from doing it? What would you say to Nina to help her forgive Liz? Could you forgive her?

  8.When life is hard and keeps getting harder, we often wonder why God would allow us to suffer so much. Scripture says in everything God works for our good. How do you see God at work in the difficult times in your life? What are the blessings that come to mind when you think of God’s grace?

  9.Geoffrey’s decision not to tell Nina and Jan about the letters from Liz was a lie of omission. He may have felt it was best for them not to know. Is there ever a time that lying—such as little white lies—can be justified? Do you think Nina’s feelings of betrayal are justified? What do you think would be a better way of handling the situation?

  10.Nina says Geoffrey was a Christian. He went to church, served as an usher, and participated in church activities. She puzzles over how he ended up with a second hidden life that involved gambling and engaging in criminal activity to support his addiction. Do you think church attendance is a sign that a person is a Christian? How can Christians help each other be accountable for their behavior outside the church walls? What ultimately makes a person a true Christian?

  Bestselling author Kelly Irvin also writes Amish romances. Escape with her to these intriguing communities.

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