Innocent Lies

by Robin Patchen

He reached the little church on the edge of the town common. The sun had dropped behind the towering pines, but the steeple reached into the sky, beyond the shadows, and reflected the last rays of evening. He stared at the steeple, waited for some flash of wisdom, of insight, until the shadows chased even that last vestige of light away.

  Darkness and chill settled over him, and he turned back in the direction he'd come. He'd begged God to bring Kelsey home, and now he had. It was time for Eric to figure out what to do next.

  Two steps inside the squad room, and the chief's voice called out from his office.

  "Nolan. In here."

  Eric avoided Donny's gaze as he crossed the room and stepped into the office.

  "Close the door and have a seat."

  He did what he was told, too tired to argue, too overwhelmed to think.

  "Been looking at your records." Brady peered at the computer screen on his desk. "No mention of a wife."

  "Yes, sir."

  "So you lied on your application?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Knock it off." Brady pushed back from his desk and glared. "We've been friends a long time. I expect more than two-word answers from you."

  Eric stood, pulled his gun from the holster inside his jacket, his badge from his pocket, and set both on the desk. "Anything else?"

  Brady looked at the items, looked at Eric. "Put those back where you found them and sit your butt down."

  Eric sat, but he left his badge and gun between them. He wasn't sure he'd be able to pick them up again. Wasn't sure he cared.

  "When did you get married?"

  He hadn't told this story, ever. Now, he related the events like facts in a case. "We were in college. We met before the school year started, at freshman orientation. We married right after our sophomore year."

  "That was when?"

  "Almost ten years ago."

  "How long were you together?"

  Eric broke his friend's gaze, stared at his knees. Remembered that time, time he'd spent right here in this little town, in a cabin on the lake. Even two college students could afford the cost of an off-season rental for a week. He'd been saving all year long, able to save thanks to his scholarship and his folks' financial support. The day after exams finished, Eric and Kelsey rented a car, drove to New Hampshire. A justice of the peace married them on Hampton Beach at sunset, and they'd begun the best honeymoon two broke college students could afford.

  "After we married, she stayed for three days."

  Brady's eyebrows disappeared beneath his hair. He schooled his expression quickly. "Why'd she leave?"

  Eric shrugged, started back into the past. He still had the note. He'd folded it and carried it in his wallet ever since. She'd signed it, Always and forever —Kels.

  Always and forever. Three whole days.

  "Her little sister ran away. They were close. Kelsey wanted to bring her to Boston to live with us when we got settled. I never knew the whole story, but it seemed there was something going on with the stepfather or maybe the stepbrothers, something Kelsey alluded to. She never said outright." He thought about when he'd met them, how he'd wanted to blame the men in the family for all of it. But he hadn't known, hadn't ever had enough information to even make an allegation. "Maybe she thought she'd be able to find Danielle when nobody else could."

  "And then?"

  Eric didn't have the energy to explain the weeks after her disappearance, the months he spent searching for her. The people, the...the scum he'd met along the way. The accusations. The revelations.

  The crushing grief that came with the news of her death.

  The hope that had kept his heart beating for ten long years.

  "And then she disappeared. A few months later, they said she was dead."

  "So you thought you were a widower." Brady glanced at his computer screen. "That would explain your answer on the application."

  "I never believed it."

  "But if she was presumed dead..."

  "She was."

  "Not that I'd have fired you for it, but that does make it easier."

  Like Eric cared about his job right now.

  "I called that number she gave us," Brady said.

  He sat up straighter, leaned forward. "What'd you learn?"

  "The detective, Sally Bowman? She passed away."

  The cop in him voiced the next question. "Natural causes?"

  "Breast cancer. Six months ago."

  "Did anybody else have information about Kelsey?"

  "Without more than a first name and a year? The guy who answered laughed his butt off right before he hung up on me."

  "You didn't give him more information?"

  "Course not." Brady sat back, shook his head. "I've been to this party before, remember? My own wife had reason to run. I didn't let her enemy find her, and I'm sure as heck not going to let anything happen to your wife."

  Eric had forgotten that story. The memory of it—and the happy ending—bolstered his spirits, if only just a little.

  Brady continued. "Your wife disappeared for a reason. We need to figure out what that was, and who she's afraid will find her."

  Eric stood. Glanced at his gun and badge.

  "Pick them up, and don't put them down again unless I tell you to."

  Eric slid his gun and badge back where they belonged.

  "Now that that's settled, why don't you take a few days off?" Brady nodded toward the computer screen. "I was mostly checking your vacation time. You've got plenty. Looks like you haven't taken a vacation in more than a year."

  "Took some time when my folks came to visit."

  "Good thing you get more than three days a year. You're officially on vacation as of now."

  Eric started to thank him, then stopped. "I might need the department's resources, after I figure out what's going on."

  "Then you'll have to trust me to help."

  Eric thought of his wife, thought of spending time with her, regardless of what would happen next. "I'm grateful."

  "Don't get mushy on me. Aren't you curious why she got arrested?"

  He'd forgotten that, in the haze of the past.

  "Breaking and entering," Brady said. "We found her in one of the cabins by the lake."

  "Okay."

  "Find Donny. He'll catch you up on what he knows. Then talk to her, see what you can learn."

  ERIC found Donny at his desk. His friend waited for an explanation, but Eric couldn't explain it all again. It was taking all his energy to hold in his emotions, and he'd need every ounce of strength to confront Kelsey.

  "You okay, man?" Donny said.

  "You made the arrest?"

  Donny's short pause held all his questions, but he kept them to himself. "We got a call this morning. One of the neighborhood watch guys at the lake thought he saw a light flickering in the window of a cabin on Lakeside last night. He didn't call it in, though. It was dusk, and he figured maybe it was a play of light. This morning, he drove by again and noticed a trail down the driveway and around back. The snow'd melted from where it had been packed down, making it easier to see."

  "A trail, like..." He was trying to picture it. Places where people had stepped on snow usually melted first. He could picture that. But a trail?

  "The guy thought somebody'd dragged a body." Donny chuckled. "Some people watch too much crime drama. But your...uh, friend said she'd sprained her ankle and crawled to the house. That would explain it."

  Eric closed his eyes against the image of Kelsey, injured, cold... Opened them when it passed. "Go on."

  Donny reached to the floor beside him, pulled up a backpack. "She was clutching this when we got there."

  Eric unzipped it, found clothes, toiletries, a canvas case filled with suspicious metal tools, a flashlight, a phone charger, a flash drive, and a map of New Hampshire. "That's it?"

  Donny opened his desk drawer, lifted out a revolver in a clear plastic bag, and set it between them. "This was shoved between the couch cushions."

&nb
sp; Eric studied it. An old Taurus that needed a good cleaning. "Bullets?"

  "None."

  "She admit it was hers?"

  "Claimed she never saw it before. Wicked coincidence, if you ask me." At Eric's look, Donny added, "Not that anybody did. Ask me, that is."

  "Anything else?"

  "Not that we found. We didn't search the whole place when we grabbed her. Figured she had all her stuff in the backpack."

  Eric searched the rest of the backpack. Every small pocket. He even searched for a tear in the lining, maybe a hiding place. All empty. "No I.D., no phone, nothing personal at all."

  "I thought that was weird, too. We could go back, search again."

  "No." Eric left the revolver and backpack on the desk. "Just hold onto those for now. Not sure what's going to happen."

  "About that. I was hoping Sam owned the cabin, but no deal. I talked to her, though, and she knows the owner. They live in Nashua. She's going to call them, see if they'll accept her story."

  "What story was that?"

  "That she sprained her ankle and sought shelter from the storm to keep from freezing to death."

  "You believe her?" Eric asked.

  Donny shrugged. "It holds up, if you don't ask too many questions. Like, how'd she get there with no car? Where'd she plan on going with no money or ID?"

  "You ask her any of those questions?"

  "I asked. She just said it was a long story."

  "Yeah. Seems her story only holds up if you're an idiot."

  "But you know Sam. She'll work her magic. And the place hadn't been damaged. Don't even know how she got in—no sign of a break-in."

  Eric remembered the little canvas case. Had Kelsey picked the lock? His wife was full of surprises.

  "Thanks."

  "Sure. Let me know if I can do anything else."

  Eric stood and headed toward the door that led to the holding cells.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Vanessa walked out of the Miami high-rise as if nothing had changed. As if her whole life hadn't just clicked into place.

  She'd been afraid, terrified, it wouldn't stay. Afraid the years had been too hard on her body to allow such a precious thing to grow inside her. Afraid to share the news with Carlos until after those first three months had passed. But now, after months of hope, months of fear, she could almost relax.

  She was carrying his child. And the child was healthy and strong. Another six weeks, and the doctor told her they'd be able to determine the child's gender.

  A boy, she thought. Please, let it be a boy. She had no desire to bring a girl child into the world. She knew what happened to girls.

  Not her child, though. No, her child would be doted on. Her child would be pure, innocent, cared for. Vanessa's child, boy or girl, would love her. Even when Carlos's care faded, as it was bound to do, the baby would always love her.

  She resisted the urge to pat her still flat belly. Carlos's man was watching her, of course. Always, when she left the house alone, Carlos sent a man to follow her. She hadn't really earned Carlos's trust. Maybe after the child was born, maybe then he'd trust her. Then, they could be a family.

  Freedom called to her. She would wait, see if it was possible to be with Carlos and be free. Like one of those normal women, the ones with the husbands and families who didn't dream of escape every night. She would try. God help her, she would try to make a life with Carlos, because as much as she desired freedom, she was terrified to be alone.

  Now, with this child, she would never have to be alone again.

  She would tell Carlos tonight. She would have a family again.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Kelsey'd been so hungry, she'd scarfed down the entire cheeseburger and almost all the fries. Now she thought she might be sick. Had it been too much food too soon after nearly starving all week? Or had the fact that she was trapped in a jail cell and would probably never see her son again contributed to the nausea?

  Maybe a little of both.

  Those maudlin thoughts wouldn't do her any good, and right now, she had to figure out how to get away from here. Make sure Daniel was safe. Leave town and regroup.

  The thought of leaving Eric again had her brushing tears away.

  The doctor had wrapped her ankle, prescribed Tylenol, and promised to send over crutches. He'd also suggested she get the ankle x-rayed. She'd declined. It was already a lot better now than it had been Monday. Another few days and it'd be good as new.

  So now, she waited. Would Eric be back to see her? Surely he wouldn't leave her here overnight.

  Remembering the anger on his face, she thought maybe he would.

  But just a few minutes later, the door buzzed.

  She swung her feet to the floor as Eric stepped in carrying a pair of crutches in one hand, a set of keys in the other. He stopped in front of her cell, leaned the crutches on the far wall, and turned to her. "How you holding up?"

  She shrugged, because the sight of him stole her voice. He was as handsome as ever. If anything, the years had only made him better looking. He'd cut his hair from the longer style he'd worn in college. Now, it was very short on the sides, longer on top, brushed back. His hazel eyes seemed gray right now, but she remembered the little flecks of green that flashed when his emotions flared. He had a five o'clock shadow that only enhanced his looks.

  "What?" he said.

  She'd been staring. "Just...you look good."

  He gave her a once-over. "Honestly, Kels, you've looked better."

  Kels. The nickname felt like a good sign. She let out a short laugh and ran her fingers through her tangled hair. "I don't doubt it."

  He unlocked the cell, crossed to the bed, and sat beside her. He turned toward her, brushed her hair out of her face. The feeling tingled to her toes. "I like it long."

  She ducked her head to hide the blush. She'd hoped he would. With all the other things, all the fear, all the worry, in the back of her mind, she'd wondered if he liked her hair.

  Stupid, but there you go.

  She looked at him again. She could hardly keep her gaze away. "You still mad at me?"

  His eyebrows rose. "For leaving me, for disappearing off the planet, for faking your own death...? It's gonna take more than a couple hours to get over that."

  "Wow. You can sure hold a grudge."

  His lips quirked, and he shook his head, looked away.

  She bumped his shoulder with hers. "I think you'll forgive me."

  "I never was the brightest bulb in the chandelier." He turned to face her. His amusement faded. "Oh, Kels. I don't know how to feel."

  "I know. Me, too."

  "Except you..." He looked away again. Stared toward the ugly beige cinderblock wall across the hall, maybe at the crutches propped there. "You could have come home. You could have—"

  "I couldn't."

  She was sure he'd argue with her. A moment passed before he turned his gaze on her again. "Why don't you start from the beginning?"

  She swallowed. She knew she needed to tell him, but here in a dingy jail cell? She hadn't imagined that. "Did Chief Thomas call Detective Bowman?"

  "She a friend?"

  Kelsey thought of the heavy-set woman, her frizzy hair, her salty language that would make a Green Beret blush. "Not a friend, necessarily. But she did save my life."

  "Did she know you faked your death?"

  "No. I wouldn't have put her in that position. I'm sure she suspected. She knew most of my story. Why, what did she say?"

  "Nothing." He took her hand in his. It felt so natural, so perfect. She almost cried at the simple touch. When was the last time anybody but Daniel had held her hand? The last time anybody had cared to protect her? To know her?

  Eric's gaze was tender. "Detective Sally Bowman died of breast cancer six months ago."

  "Oh." The news came as such a shock, Kelsey almost couldn't process it. They hadn't been friends, but Sally was the only woman who knew the story. The only connection to that time of her life who underst
ood and cared. And now she was gone, too.

  Kelsey wasn't sure she could stand to lose anybody else.

  "I'm sorry." Eric rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. "You cared about her."

  "I hardly knew her. But...she..." She couldn't explain the tears that sprung to her eyes. All the loss. This just seemed one too many. And breast cancer? A slight chuckle forced its way through her tears.

  "What's funny?"

  "She was the toughest woman I'd ever met. I can't imagine how she felt succumbing to such a...a girl disease. That probably ticked her off to no end."

  "Unfortunately, cancer isn't easily intimidated."

  "I'm sure it nearly met its match with Sally." The implications of Sally's death settled in her stomach heavier than the burger and fries. "There's nobody to back up my story."

  "You haven't told us a story."

  "I know. I thought she could help, keep y'all from thinking I'm nuts."

  "You can tell me. I'll believe you."

  "I have to get out of here."

  "Who are you running from?"

  "I'll tell you everything, if you get me out of here."

  He looked away, shook his head. "I don't get to decide, Kels. I'm not the boss." He turned back to face her. "Brady's a good guy. They're working on your release. A friend is calling the owner of the cabin to see if they'll buy your story."

  "Buy it? If I hadn't broken in, I'd have frozen to death."

  "No ID, no phone, no car, no money, and just a handful of personal items. Where were you headed when you sprained your ankle?"

  She looked at her knees. She'd concocted a whole story about how she'd been hitchhiking, how the driver had tried to get fresh with her, and she insisted on being let out. And she just happened to be in Nutfield, and she wanted to see the lake, and she just happened to sprain her ankle right there... Well, at least the last part was true.

  She peeked at Eric from the corner of her eye, saw him watching her. She was here, with him. Her husband. A man she'd thought of every hour of every day for a decade and more. Was she really going to lie to him?

  Not lie, but not tell the truth, either. "It's a long story."

  He looked at the wall again. Swallowed. Squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again, he didn't look at her. "You weren't going to call me."