Liar, Liar

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Liar, Liar Page 15

by K. J. Larsen


  “Savino sounds like a dangerous man.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “This is where you thank me for keeping you out of lock up.”

  “Thanks, Max.”

  “And happy birthday.” He reached in the back seat and handed me a single red rose.

  “Huh?”

  “It’s after midnight. You’re thirty.”

  “Ouch.”

  “For the next twenty four hours I’m officially your boyfriend.”

  I smelled the rose. “It’s a three hour gig. And it starts at the party.”

  We parked in the shadows under a large maple tree and ten minutes later a rusted pick-up skidded to a stop in front of Jack’s house. Devin crammed the last half of a burger in his mouth. The front door flew open. Uncle Jack stormed down the steps and yanked Devin from the truck by his ear.

  “I wanted to do that,” Max said.

  “You’re opening the shop in the morning and you reek like pot.”

  “You’re killin’ my ear.”

  “Smarten up. Hang around your loser friends and you’ll be back in the pen.”

  Jack shoved Devin in the house and snuffed the porch light.

  “Wait here.” Max was out the car and across the street before I could respond. He returned to the car a few minutes later and threw a black ski mask in the back seat.

  “He took the diamonds in the house with him. We’ll have to get them later. Too bad his uncle won’t let you marry the guy. You’d be rich.”

  “There aren’t that many diamonds in the world.”

  “The pinks and reds are Australian. They’re rare and exceptionally valuable.”

  “How do you know so much about diamonds?”

  “I buy gifts for the women in my life. A new relationship, flowers and candy. Stage two, jewelry, silver or gold. Stage three, precious gems, including sapphire or ruby. Stage four, diamonds.”

  “How many stage fours have you hit?”

  “Enough. But I never made it to the altar.”

  “You’re terrified of intimacy. I saw it on Dr. Phil.”

  “You might be the cure.” His fingers lightly caressed my cheek.

  Oh boy. I pulled my gaze away. Max laughed softly and pulled on to the street. A light rain began to fall. I rested my head back and closed my eyes.

  “Home, James,” I said.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  I awoke on my birthday knowing I had thirty-year-old bags under my eyes. My solo B&E had been reduced to a party of thieves and I’d let a two-bit crook snatch a fortune from my hands. Devin’s a klutz and he has sinus problems. I should’ve heard him coming a mile away.

  I stared at the ceiling and imagined Chance Savino in the slammer. He was the reason I was in this whole stupid mess. I don’t know why I still felt guilty for leaving him to get caught. And then, out of the blue the glorious truth hit me.

  I hopped from my bed and did the happy dance with Inga barking at my heels. The illusive Chance Savino, a man deemed dead by the FBI, had been arrested, fingerprinted, and his fine mug was shot. It was now official, a matter of public record. Chance Savino was alive and Cat DeLuca wasn’t so loopy after all.

  Footsteps sprinted down the hall and Max burst through the door waving his gun.

  “I heard a commotion. Are you OK?”

  “I’m FAB-U-LOUS,” I sang. “The truth is out!”

  “What truth?”

  “Chance Savino is alive and I am—” I snapped my fingers. “What’s the word…?”

  “Thirty?” Max said.

  “No. Sane.”

  “Is that news?”

  “Regretably, there were rumors.”

  I boogied my way into the shower and dressed quickly in a comfy lemon vee-neck tee and Levis. I found Max in the kitchen pouring two cups of coffee.

  “Put the eggs away,” I said. “Breakfast is on Roger.”

  I punched my client’s number on my cell phone. For every gloriously happy life, someone else’s was in the toilet. Right now that someone was Roger.

  I pinched the smile from my lips. “Hey, Roger, how are you holding up.”

  “I miss Bambi,” he whined. “Did you talk to her? Will she stay with me?”

  “I want to talk to you about that. Where can we meet?”

  “I’m downtown at the Chicago Hilton.”

  “Spendy.”

  “Bambi and I stay here when we go into town for a late dinner or play. We always request the same suite.”

  “And that’s where you are now?”

  “Uh huh.”

  I tried to keep the you are such a sucker sound out of my voice. “Do you think that was wise? Wouldn’t that be the first place Bambi would look for you?”

  “I just had to feel close to her. You’re not mad, are you?”

  “Roger,” I said through gritted teeth. “You have to do what I say.”

  “I guess.”

  “Call the concierge and tell him you want a taxi to pick you up at a back entrance.”

  “I don’t think there is a back door.”

  “He’ll probably take you to the kitchen and you’ll exit into the alley. Tell him you’ll return tonight. Don’t say anything more.”

  “This sounds very cloak and dagger.”

  “Take the taxi to the North Shore Inn and wait for me in the restaurant. Leave now and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  “That won’t work for me. I have a massage scheduled with Madame Butterfly at nine.”

  I knew that name. I photographed her once. “Well you’re gonna have to cancel, Rog.”

  “Dammit, Cat. Do you have any idea how hard it is to schedule a full hour with Madam Butterfly?”

  “Cancel but don’t check out. We’ll send for your things later.”

  “But you said to tell the concierge I’d be back.”

  “You’ll lie.”

  Roger’s voice was wary. “What’s going on, Cat?”

  “Nothing. It’s my birthday, I’m famished, and you’re buying me breakfast.”

  Roger laughed with relief. “Call me bonkers but for a minute I thought we had a problem.”

  I ended the call and stared at the phone in my hand. I hated this part of my job. Telling Roger what I knew about Bambi would break his heart. Breakfast wasn’t going to be pretty.

  My cell phone blared and I jumped. “Here’s a quarter, call someone who cares.”

  Max grinned. “I changed your ring tone.”

  “It’s Rocco. He wants to tell me a dead man is in custody and the Chicago Police Department wants to apologize for questioning my sanity.”

  “Put him on speaker.”

  “Talk to me, Rocco.”

  “You OK, Cat?”

  “More than OK.”

  “You’re slipping. Someone saw a prowler at Jack’s last night and called it in. Would’ve been a helluva way to spend your birthday.”

  I giggled. “Too bad everyone wasn’t so lucky.”

  “Did you find what you wanted in your car?”

  “Some diamonds, but I’ll tell you about that later.”

  “Diamonds?” Rocco’s voice peaked with interest. “No shit.”

  I winked at Max. “Tell me why you really called, Rocco. I want to hear the best part.”

  “Uh, happy birthday?”

  “Yeah, yeah. Did you talk to the officers?”

  “No, but I read the report. You’re cool, Cat. No one ID’ed you.”

  “You can’t say it, can you? You hate to admit you were wrong.”

  “What are you talking about? I’m happily married because I admit I’m wrong whether I am or not.”

  “I’m talking about the guy they arrested. Chance Savino. You remember the dead man.”

  “There was no arrest at the shop last night. According to the report the back door was open and the intruder—that would be you—ran off.”

  “Don’t jerk me ar
ound, Rocco.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Savino was there.”

  “What can I tell you? They didn’t find him.”

  “Damn.”

  “Is Max there with you?”

  “Yeah. He’s laughing.”

  “Maybe he should take you to a doctor.”

  “Rocco?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Shut-up.”

  I tucked the phone away before I threw it at Max.

  “Tough break,” he said. “Your happy dance was a tad premature.”

  “Don’t look so cocky. There’s a simple explanation.”

  “Really? I’d love to hear it.”

  “It’s obvious Chance Savino regained consciousness and escaped before the cops arrived.”

  “There wasn’t much time. The sirens were closing in.”

  “The sirens must have acted like an alarm clock. You saw him lying there.”

  “No I didn’t.”

  “I guess it was pretty dark,” I conceded.

  “I saw you.”

  “Savino’s skin is darker. He’s Mediterranean.”

  “So are you.”

  “He has a tan.” I chewed my bottom lip.

  “Let me get this straight. You’re saying the FBI, Chicago Police Department, and a whole sea of your friends and family still think you are—”

  I slapped my hand against his mouth and held it tight. “Let’s just say an unfortunate misunderstanding persists.”

  I grabbed the leash, disarmed my premium platinum system, and the three of us were out the door and on the road in minutes.

  “We’ll drop by Jack’s on our way to meet Roger.”

  “Better not let Jack see you.”

  “He won’t if you distract him. I just need five minutes alone with Devin.”

  “What’s your plan?”

  “I’m taking the diamonds back.”

  “Flash a gun in front of witnesses?”

  “Who’s flashing? I’m telling Devin to hand the diamonds over.”

  “Good luck with that.”

  I smiled. “The summer we were in the seventh grade I played Texas Hold’em and bought a new bicycle with Devin’s allowance. He didn’t know how I did it.”

  “How did you?”

  “Devin’s left eye twitches when he lies. It’s his tell.”

  “So what’s your tell?” Max asked.

  I grabbed my Dr. Pepper Lip Smacker and slathered it on. “You’ll never know.” I winked.

  For me it’s the lip smacker. My lips tingle when I lie. Ever since I was eleven I’ve been hooked on the stuff.

  Max dropped me off at the back door and I waited until Jack’s head disappeared under Tino’s hood. I counted three mechanics elbow deep in engines and Devin flat on his back beneath a vintage VW bus. I’d know that wretched sinus sniff anywhere.

  I kicked his leg with my Biala Mary Janes. He shot out from under the bus and hit his head on the bumper. Devin was, like I said, a klutz.

  The guy Jack forbade me to marry bounded to his feet and his skin paled beneath the grease.

  “Uh, Cat,” he gulped. “It’s you.”

  “Surprised to see me so soon?”

  “Jack don’t want you comin’ around here.”

  “And Jack don’t want you chopping cars. I have pictures if he’s interested.”

  Devin’s jaw clenched. “What do you want?”

  “I want my diamonds back.”

  He snorted. Prison made him a more convincing liar. “I ain’t got no diamonds,” he spat, but then the left eye twitched.

  “You’re too smart for this,” I said, telling the biggest lie of all.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “A few shiny rocks aren’t worth going back to prison for. Don’t make me call the cops on you.”

  “You can’t. The diamonds were stolen long before you lost them. Am I right?”

  “You’re an ass, Devin. Where did you hide the diamonds?”

  His sinuses wheezed and his gaze flickered almost imperceptibly to his tool box. Devin wasn’t the same goofy kid I conned in seventh grade. He was harder and meaner now, but he wasn’t any smarter.

  “Get out,” Devin said.

  I leaned against the Volkswagen bus folding my arms in front of me. “I’m not leaving without the diamonds.”

  “We’ll see about that.” He turned on a heel and ran toward Tino’s car.

  “Jack!” he called.

  I was in his tools before he hit the shop door. I jerked a greasy red rag from the bottom of the box. Voila the pouch. I stuffed it in my bra and the rag back in the box. With a little luck he wouldn’t know the diamonds were missing until after work.

  I bucked out the back door just as Tino’s Buick screamed down the alley, slowing enough so I could jump in.

  “Go go go!” I called, and Max laughed.

  “I knew that stinkin’ hairy dog was hers,” Jack hollered. He waved a fist and Devin smirked behind him.

  “You pissed Jack off,” Max said. “You might need a lawyer to get your car back.”

  “I might.”

  “Did Devin admit stealing the diamonds?”

  “No. He said you can’t steal merchandise that’s already stolen.”

  “Interesting defense. How’s his left eye?”

  “Twitching.”

  “You should’ve threatened him with your gun.”

  “I should’ve shot him.”

  I felt the soft velvet against my breast and I sighed happily. “Let’s find Roger. I’m starved.”

  ***

  The North Shore Inn is a quiet, luxurious hideaway on Lakeshore Drive and possibly the last place Bambi and her trigger-happy other half would look for Roger. The hotel has catered to movie stars and heads of state and the kitchen is ruled by one of America’s top chefs. Ray Risho is an excitable man and is rumored to chase mediocre cooks with a butcher knife.

  We elbowed our way into the restaurant and scanned the crowded room for Roger. The bold Hawaiian print shirt and Bermuda shorts were dead ringers. Roger jumped to his feet unnecessarily, and waved us to his table.

  “Happy birthday, Cat.” Roger tucked a small package in my hand. “Open it!”

  I tore past pink ribbon and silver paper to a velvety black box. Rogers and Hollands Jewelers.

  Max swore under his breath. “I’m looking like a cheap bastard.”

  “Why yes you are,” I said.

  Cascading emeralds were joined together by a delicate gold chain. I caught my breath.

  “Emerald like your eyes,” Roger said, enormously pleased with himself.

  Roger was a big dopey guy with a huge heart. “This is the best present ever!” I dangled the brilliant green stones in the light. “Stage three,” I noted for Max and he growled.

  “Don’t mind him,” I said to Roger. “Max has intimacy issues.”

  “If Roger had a few we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

  I hugged Roger. “I’ll wear this tonight at my party and I want you to come with us.”

  “You do?” Max frowned.

  “It’ll be fun. Besides I want you to meet my family.”

  “What should I wear?”

  “Not that,” Max said. “Can I give you some advice?”

  “No,” I said.

  “You’re a stage four guy, Roger,” Max said.

  “What’s stage four?”

  “You met and married Bambi in a week.”

  “Actually it was five days.”

  “Suicide.”

  “This is coming from the man who ground you into my step,” I reminded him.

  “Take it slow next time, get to know the girl.”

  Roger gaped like a goldfish. “I can’t get to know a girl. I’m married.”

  I took a deep breath. “Well about that, Roger. You’re not. Bambi was married when you met her. Your marriage is kaput.”


  “Kaput?”

  “Null and void,” Max said.

  Roger smiled. “My brother put you up to this.”

  “He didn’t,” I said. “Bambi’s real name is Stacey Pope. Her husband is a sleazy biker dude. He has a criminal record and a lot of tattoos. He fully intends to kill you.”

  Roger laughed indulgently. “You’re mistaken.”

  Max slapped a disc on the table. “See for yourself. Cat wanted to spare you the video but you won’t listen.”

  Roger waved it away. “I know what computers can do.”

  The waiter brought steaming mugs of coffee and a platter of scones and fruit. He took our order. When he left again, I pushed back my chair and hugged Roger tight.

  “I know this is difficult for you. You have every reason to be upset.”

  “I’m not upset.”

  “Of course you’re upset,” I shook him. “Bambi wants to kill you.”

  “You’re choking him,” Max said. “I bet Roger wants his necklace back.”

  “I’m going home tomorrow,” Roger coughed.

  “Fair enough but I have you today.” I sat down and pulled a folded paper from my bag. I slapped it on the table. “Is Bambi home now?”

  “She’s at the gym. She has a morning session with her trainer.”

  “I want you to call her.”

  “I can’t reach her for an hour.”

  “Leave a message. Read exactly what I’ve written.”

  Roger skimmed over the page and glanced up hopefully. “I’ll see Bambi today?”

  “You will if she shows up.”

  “Can I drive my own car?”

  “I’d rather you take Tino’s. It has a few surprises.”

  Roger punched some numbers and got Bambi’s voice mail. He read from the script.

  “Bambi, this is Roger. I know you’re cheating on me. I haven’t told anyone yet. If you want to give this other guy up and start over meet me at one o’clock at Pederson Park. I’m driving a black Buick. If you don’t come I’ll call my lawyer in the morning and you’ll need to be out of the house by the end of the week.”

  Roger was pale when he finished. “Bambi will be livid.”

  “Not as much as she will be after your next call.”

  I waved another sheet of paper and Roger’s eyes widened.

  “I can’t freeze my assets.”

  “You’re only freezing Bambi’s access to your assets.”

  Roger sniffed. “My wife says she loves me.”

 

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