Hector’d been talking to Julien’s father.
He glared at her, hardened his voice. “You’re telling me the truth?”
Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. He’d hurt her with the accusation. “I would never betray you. You are my life.”
The right answer. He believed her, and he needed to keep her loyalty. It mattered more now than ever. He rested his hands on the wall behind her, trapping her in place. “If only things could have been different. My father...” He shook his head and whispered in her ear. “He would not allow us to be together. I loved you, but Papa would have taken you away from me. Maybe even hurt you. I couldn’t let that happen.” The lies sounded so pretty. He leaned back to study her face again. “Do you understand?”
Emotions played across her features. The love. The joy. Yes, Farah was on his side. He could trust her. He wrapped one arm around her back and used the other hand to brush a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. Then he wove his fingers into her hair as she slid her hands over his shoulders and around his neck. He felt her trembling just as he kissed her.
If only he could pretend it was Rae in his arms, not this substitute. After just enough time, he ended the kiss.
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“I’m sorry.” He wiped her tears. “I shouldn’t have done that. I have worked so hard to keep my distance. I don’t want to hurt you again.”
She trailed her fingers along the back of his neck. His body responded in ways it should not, not in Farah’s arms. But he didn’t pull away.
She smiled through her tears. “As long as I can be at your side, I am happy. I will always be here for you. Always.”
He stepped back. “I cannot tell you how it soothes me to know that. I couldn’t do this without you.”
She nodded and looked at the floor.
“Hector is working against me.”
Her gaze snapped up.
“I have a plan,” he said. “Can I count on you to help me?”
“Of course. Whatever you need.”
Satisfied, he led her to the car.
After a quick stop for gas, they were back on the road. Julien returned to the interstate in silence while Farah cast him knowing glances and Hector glared from the backseat. No one spoke.
Less than an hour later, he pulled off the highway near Warwick, Rhode Island, and found a cheap hotel. He passed the parking lot, scanned for video cameras, and saw none. He stopped in the Denny’s lot next door.
“Are we stopping for the night?” Hector asked.
“No. You two get a fresh car and meet me. I’ll find a place and send you the location.”
“Is it wise to switch cars?” Hector asked.
“I believe so, yes. The cars in this lot won’t be discovered missing until morning, but this car has most likely been reported stolen by now. And the New York plates draw attention.”
He watched Hector in the rearview mirror as he nodded once to Farah. “Let’s go.”
Hector stepped out of the car and Farah followed, meeting Julien’s eyes before they walked away. Julien left to search for the perfect place.
It didn’t take long to find a quiet street in an industrial park. He parked on the edge of an empty parking lot on the far side of a large dumpster and next to the thick woods. He sent his location to Farah’s cell. If they left now, it would take them twenty minutes to get there. He should have time. Farah knew to keep the phone away from Hector. Of course he could take it from her forcibly, but not without showing his hand. This plan should work.
Julien pulled his gun from the glove box and, after he stepped from the car, shoved it in his waistband at the small of his back.
Boyle didn’t move when Julien opened the trunk. He reached in, touched the man’s neck, felt the pulse just as the man stirred.
“Do you need to stretch?”
Boyle nodded. The gag Hector had shoved in his mouth prevented him from speaking. Julien felt the gun, ensured it was handy if he needed it, and said, “If you scream or make any noise, I’ll kill you. You understand?”
Boyle nodded again, and Julien removed his gag. “Where are we?” His voice was tired and rough.
“We’re switching cars.” He pulled Boyle’s bound legs out of the trunk, untied them while Boyle sat awkwardly in the trunk, and shoved the rope in his back pocket.
“Why haven’t you let your friend kill me yet?”
Julien helped him stand. “I haven’t found her yet. I need you alive. ”
Boyle’s eyebrows lifted. It was too dark to see his eyes, but Julien imagined a spark of hope there. “So you’re going to let me go?”
Not likely, but there was no reason to tell him that. If for some reason Rae couldn’t be found, Boyle might still prove useful. Seemed they’d grown up together, so maybe if she wasn't at her home, Boyle could help them locate her.
Julien looked into the forest. Such dark, thick woods. This would work.
He grabbed the man’s upper arm. “Come.” He led Boyle into the trees, where branches snapped underfoot. The scent of fallen leaves reminded him of his childhood years, when he and Hector would play in the forest on the edge of the school grounds.
Julien pushed the memories away and supported Boyle over knobby roots until Julien found a sturdy trunk far enough back. “Sit.”
Boyle slid to the ground, and Julien turned to look at the car. From here, Boyle would be able to see everything. Did Julien care?
He didn’t have time to worry about it.
He tied Boyle to the tree. “I don’t know what’s going to happen next. Just be quiet.” He crouched down and met his eyes. “I’m your only hope. Hector will kill you as an afterthought. Farah will do as I say. Or as Hector says. So be silent.”
“What are you going to do?”
Julien ignored the question and returned to the car. He slammed the trunk closed and kept the gun in his waistband as he slid into the driver’s seat. Two minutes later, he saw the headlights. A nondescript dark-colored sedan. Perfect.
Hector parked behind Julien, and Hector and Farah stepped out. Julien did, too, and met them at the back of his car.
“Well done, my friend.”
Hector nodded. “There weren’t many to choose from. The newer ones are harder to hot-wire.”
“Yes, yes, but you managed, like you always do. Merci.”
Hector blinked at the second compliment, then nodded toward the trunk. “We kill him and leave him here?”
“Seems a good place.”
Hector looked around at the grounds, at the light poles which were placed sporadically around the parking lot but not close enough to illuminate them.
Julien stepped away from the car. “Go ahead.”
As Hector lifted the trunk, Julien pulled the revolver out. He gripped it in both hands and aimed it at his best friend just as Hector’s gaze snapped up from the empty trunk to meet his. It fell quickly to the gun in Julien’s hands.
Julien told himself to fire, but his finger wouldn’t cooperate. His oldest friend, his best friend. His only friend. Was this the right decision?
Hector reached into the pocket where he kept his gun.
Julien had no choice. He pulled the trigger, felt a sharp pain in his shoulder as he watched his friend stagger backwards one step, then two. Hector covered the wound in his chest with his hands, trying to stem the blood. It dripped between his fingers and down his arm.
He sat heavily on the asphalt and looked at Julien.
Julien kept the gun raised.
Slowly, Hector lay down, and Julien stepped closer.
“You shot me,” Hector said, his voice weak.
“You’re working with my father.”
“Yes.”
The single word, and Julien exhaled a breath. For a moment, he’d worried he’d been wrong, but to hear it from Hector’s mouth, after all they’d been through...“How could you betray me?”
Hector pulled in a rattling breath. “Always worked for your father.
”
Julien blinked. “What do you mean?”
His friend forced another breath. “You’re going to let me die?”
“Tell me what you mean.”
“When we were school children, your father paid my tuition. Not the first year, but after that.” He struggled through another breath, and blood trickled from his mouth with his exhale. “My loyalty was always with your father.”
Julien raised the gun and shot Hector between the eyes.
He turned to see Farah staring, mouth agape.
“Did you know?”
She shook her head quickly, her gaze darting from him to Hector and back. “I swear—”
“Get in the car.”
“But monsieur, you’re hurt.”
The adrenaline must’ve kept the initial pain away, but Farah’s reminder brought it back. Julien touched the wound on his shoulder, felt the hot sticky blood on his fingers, and swore under his breath.
Farah approached. “Let me look.”
“How did he do it? He never even pulled his gun out.”
“He fired through his pocket.”
Sure enough, when Julien bent to investigate, he saw Hector’s jacket had a hole in it. Quick thinking. Julien grabbed Hector’s gun and stuck it in his own pocket. Then he pulled out a poker chip and handed it to Farah. “Wipe that off and stick it in Hector’s pocket.”
Her jaw dropped, but she did as she was told, approaching the corpse cautiously as if Hector might wake up and grab her.
Julien leaned against the car, paused to let a wave of dizziness pass, and said, “Drag Hector’s body into the woods. Make sure he’s well hidden.”
Farah heaved the bodyguard’s dead weight into the woods. He could hear the strain in her occasional grunts, which sounded loud over the drag of the body on the ground. He forced himself not to scold her for taking so long.
Finally, she returned, breathing hard and sweating in the cool night air.
“Walk into the woods about twenty feet.” Julien nodded in the right direction. “You’ll find the reporter. Bring him back.”
Even in the dim light, he could see the terror in her eyes. She looked into the woods, then back at him. “But you didn’t kill him?”
“I still need him.”
She swallowed hard.
“I’m not going to shoot you, Farah. Unless you’ve betrayed me.”
She shook her head vehemently.
“And the reporter’s not going to hurt you, either.” He raised his voice and said, “Right, Boyle?”
The man’s reply was soft and pained. “I promise.”
“If you try anything,” Julien started.
“I can hardly move,” Boyle said. “What do you think I’m going to do?”
Farah obeyed Julien, as he’d known she would. A moment later, she returned from the woods supporting Boyle, who hobbled beside her. She approached the trunk, but Julien shook his head.
“Back seat.” He looked at the man. “You’re going to behave, right?”
The man bowed, stood straight, and then cringed. “I can barely walk. I’m sure as heck not going to run.”
They settled in the car, he and Boyle in the backseat. While Farah pulled out of the parking lot, Julien glanced back at where the body of his only friend lay in the darkness.
He faced forward. Time to find his wife.
Fifty-Two
It was the longest night in history. Johnny only slept in snatches. Rae managed to pack during one of his naps, then tried to grab some sleep herself. After the events of the day, it proved impossible to silence the voices in her head. The next time Johnny woke, this time with a diaper full of the only gift he had to give, she gave up on sleep altogether.
If she were at the house, she’d use the time to search for the gold, but she couldn’t go back there. Not ever. She wished she’d thought of that when she’d grabbed her things the day before. She’d never get to see the place again.
She rocked Johnny. “What was the point in all of this?”
He scrunched up his eyes and wailed. She knew exactly how he felt.
She’d come back to Nutfield to see her grandmother and get the gold.
Her grandmother had already passed away, and the gold was gone.
Coming home had all been for nothing.
She thought about Brady and Samantha and the time they'd spent together. No, her time here hadn’t been for nothing. She’d repaired her relationship with Sam, at least. She and Brady...well, he might never forgive her for rejecting him. Still, she wouldn’t trade the time spent with him for anything.
She set Johnny in his bouncy seat and ignored his cries just long enough to grab another cup of coffee.
Rae’s plan would only work if she set it in motion long before Julien found her. With Nate’s assurance that he hadn’t heard from Julien, she knew she had some time.
She looked at the baby’s red cheeks. He was still sick, but he’d be well cared for. And she couldn’t think about that, not now.
Rae’d never thought to ask Samantha for her phone number. Fortunately, she’d been with Brady when he’d stopped at Sam’s condo for the key to the cabin.
The sun hadn’t risen above the trees when Rae snapped Johnny into the car seat, ignoring his cries, and climbed behind the wheel. She hadn’t driven with him enough to know if this would put him to sleep, but other parents swore by it. She backed out of the driveway and turned toward the main road.
A police cruiser was parked about ten feet from her driveway. Brady was more stubborn than she, and that was saying something. But the driver wasn’t Brady. Rae waved as she passed, and the man followed.
She had to admit, she felt safer with the police car behind her, and very thankful it wasn’t Brady. She couldn’t see him yet.
At Samantha's condo, Rae pulled into an empty spot and climbed out. Johnny had fallen asleep, so she grabbed his seat and crossed to the door just as the police car parked across the street. She rang the bell.
Samantha answered a few seconds later. She was dressed in gray yoga pants and a navy top and carrying an oversize coffee mug. Rae was happy she was awake.
“Rae?” Sam peered behind her at the police car, then back into her eyes. “What’d you do?”
“Brady has somebody watching me. Protection, I suppose.”
“That’s good.”
“May I come in?”
Samantha stepped out of the way, and Rae entered the condo.
She let her gaze roam the space. It had looked small from the outside, but the great room she stepped into was spacious and bright, decorated in earth tones and cream. She’d expected the place to look like Samantha’s parents’ house. Rae was clearly stuck a decade in the past. Instead of the country decor Samantha’s mother had favored, Samantha had chosen a sleek, uncluttered look. It was...cosmopolitan. It took Rae a moment to reconcile the girl she’d known with the sophistication here.
“It’s beautiful.”
“What’s going on, Rae?”
Rae indicated a chair. “Mind if I sit? Johnny kept me up all night.”
"Be my guest. Did something happen?"
Rae set the car seat on the floor. Johnny was still sleeping, thank God. “I didn’t have your phone number.” She yawned hugely. “I need your help.”
“Let me get you some coffee.”
After Samantha handed her a steaming cup, Rae sipped and tried to figure out how to ask for what she needed. The direct approach might be the easiest.
“I need to fake Johnny’s death.”
Samantha’s eyebrows asked the question for her.
“If Julien thinks he’s dead, he’ll quit looking for him.”
“Do you think he’ll quit looking for you too?”
“I have a plan. But first, I have to make sure Johnny will be safe.”
“And you’ll be...?”
Rae attempted a smile. “If my son is safe, then I’ll be fine, no matter what.”
Sam reached across the table and
took Rae’s hands. “I’ll do whatever I can to help. So what’s your plan? You’ll run with Johnny, but somehow get word to Julien that he died?”
Rae blinked back the tears. She couldn’t think too much, or she’d lose her courage. “I think Brady’s fallen in love with him.” When Samantha nodded, she continued. “He’ll take him. He lost a son, and I have one who needs a home. Brady will be a great father.”
“No.” Tears filled Sam’s eyes. “Oh, Rae.”
“You understand, right? I would never leave my son if I had a choice.”
“Of course. But there must be another—”
“Don’t.” She pulled her hand away and squared her shoulders. “I need it to look real. Can you do it?”
Samantha nodded slowly. “I can print a death certificate.”
“Can you hack into...wherever one would hack to make it look official?”
“I think so.”
“If you get caught, will you get into a lot of trouble?”
Samantha shook her head. “My life isn’t on the line, Rae. It doesn’t matter if I get fired. Or prosecuted.”
“I don’t want you to get into trouble.”
“I’ll cover my tracks. I think I can do it without anybody knowing. It’s worth the risk. To save Johnny.”
“To save Johnny.”
Samantha wiped her eyes, then sipped her coffee. She studied Rae over the rim of her cup. “Brady doesn’t want to lose you. Why can’t you two just run away, take Johnny with you?”
“And let Julien and his father keep killing people?"
She nodded slowly. “Right. So you’re going to hand over the evidence to the FBI?”
“Something like that.” Rae couldn’t think about her next move, not yet. She tapped her fingers against the table. “Do you know anything about how Brady can get legal custody? I’m afraid if I do anything official...”
“Julien will figure it out.”
“Yeah.”
Samantha stared out the sliding glass door. Rae followed her gaze to a playground and beyond that, to the condominiums on the far side of a green field. Trees dotted the area, their leaves fluttering in the wind, hanging onto that last thread of hope before autumn.
Convenient Lies Page 24