Tell Me No Lies

Tessa nodded to the book. “Annie’s Baby is as well written as those.” She held the girl’s gaze. “Want to talk about anything, sweetie?”

Chelsea Chamberlain shrugged with typical teenage nonchalance. “Talk about what?”

Tessa had been working with this particular group of girls from Nick’s center every Thursday since September, and had gotten close to them. In the last few weeks, she’d begun to suspect Chelsea was pregnant. Tessa wondered how much to say. Kids hated to be pushed. She hated to be pushed. Something Dan did routinely, as he’d shown last night.

Before Tessa could respond, another teen, Jill, came up to them. Dark-eyed and intense, she said, “Hunk alert.”

Tessa laughed. She’d gotten used to the girls drooling over her brother-in-law. Nick was the center’s school liaison and focused on keeping troubled kids in classes, steering them away from drugs and into healthier endeavors, helping them keep their grades up. Dan, who’d had contact with Nick over the years, had been shocked to find out that he’d earned a degree in counseling in Rockford. “Is Nick here already?”

“Yeah.” Jill sighed. “He wants to see you when you’re done steering us to lesson-laden literature.”

“Great alliteration.” She cocked her head. “Do you mind so much? I thought reading about teenagers your age might help you figure things out.”

“You’re such an easy mark, Mrs. L. We’re cool. We like it better than those classics you had us reading when we first came here. Except maybe that doll’s house play, where the chick finally blows off her deadbeat husband.”

Tessa left them and found Nick staring at a glass-enclosed case full of books. From a distance, she could admire the long lines of his build, his dark hair and his almost navy eyes. In some ways he looked like his brother, and in some ways they could be complete strangers.

“Hey, how’s my favorite brother-in-law?”

Nick winked at her. “I’ll bet you say that to Brad, too.”

“That’s right. I’m an equal opportunity sister-in-law.”

“How are you feeling today?”

Nodding to the stacks where the girls had been drooling over him, she said, “I’m well enough to do this. I’m coming back to work here tomorrow.”

“Bruises look better.”

Self-consciously, she touched her face. “Finally!”

“How are my girls doing?”

“They’re on to me.” She told him about Jill’s remark.

Nick laughed. “You’re pretty transparent. I think that’s why they like you. What you see is what you get.”

She had to clear her throat. “I like them, too.”

“I’m ready to take them back, then go pick up my nieces at their friend’s house.”

“Thanks for watching them tonight.”

“Dan said he wanted an evening alone with you.” He squeezed her shoulder. “I think you scared him half to death with that accident. Me, too.”

“Still, you have better things to do than babysit.”

“I have nothing better to do than spend time with my two nieces.” He glanced at his watch. “You can return the favor, though.”

“Anything.”

“The guys at the center are jealous of this little Thursday excursion the girls get to take. They want equal time. Could you manage that somehow in your schedule? They could come to the library when you’re working your part-time shifts.”

She hesitated only a split second, but Nick must have caught it. Sometimes, he was too good at reading people.

“You don’t like working with the boys, do you?”

“I prefer to be with the girls.” The boys reminded her too much of someone else, long ago.

“Forget it then. I can do something else with them that they’ll like as much.”

“No, no, I want to help out. You never ask me anything.”

“Tessa, really, it’s okay.”

Dan came bursting through the front door of the library, precluding any further discussion. His face was lit with excitement. Anticipation. She knew him so well, had studied his moods, so she could prepare for them.

He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Hello, sweetheart.”

“Hi.”

“You look like you could scale Mt. Everest,” Nick said. “Did something happen?”

“Yeah. I’m glad you’re both here.” He grinned at his brother. “And that I have Tessa alone tonight. We’ve got something to celebrate.”

“What?” Tessa asked, already smiling.

“I’m being named Citizen of the Year.”

“Oh, Dan, that’s terrific.” The award had been instituted two years ago, and Tessa was hoping it would fall his way.

“Yeah, terrific.” Nick tried to sound enthusiastic, but Dan’s need for respectability always grated on him.

“Come on, Nick. It’s my thing, even if it isn’t yours. There’s a banquet honoring me next month. I want everybody there.”

Tessa had caught his excitement. “The girls, Janey and her family…”

“And our mother, right?” Nick asked.

“Of course.” Dan said.

“I’ll let you know.” Nick clapped Dan on the shoulder. “Congrats, Dan. I’m happy for you.” He started to walk away. “I have to find the kids.”

“Nicky?” Tessa called out.

“Yes?”

“Will you come to the award dinner?”

“Sure.”

After he left, Dan said, “He won’t. Not if Mom’s there.”

“Oh, dear.”

“Don’t.” In a rare display of public affection, he picked her up and twirled her around. “No negative thoughts. Nothing’s going to spoil this for me. Nothing.”

JACKHAMMERS WERE GOING OFF in his head. He sneezed into his handkerchief, then blew his nose. Frankie was ready to smash somebody’s face in as he rode the Iverton bus to the outskirts of town. Trixie wasn’t here. How could she not be here?

He’d scoured the place for her. First, he’d gone to her grandmother’s house. The shingles were new and the porch refurbished, and somebody else owned the place. Grandma Addie was gone. No loss there. She’d hated him….

Get out of here, you’re not welcome.

Trixie says I am.

You’re not right in the head. Leave her alone.

And when they’d gotten in trouble she’d screamed at him again. You crazy bastard. You corrupted her. She was a good girl until you came along.

He’d told the old biddy to go to hell. Trixie was his, and he could do anything he wanted with her. Hadn’t she told him that, in the letters stuffed in his duffel bag?

The ugly industrial scenery of downtown Iverton rolled by. He’d checked out the diner where she had worked all those years ago. They had new owners, too, who didn’t remember any Trixie Lawrence.

Now, he was headed to the south side of town. That bitch Janey, who was always trying to interfere, always trying to protect Trixie from him, for God’s sake, had ditched this place, too. But her old boyfriend, Teaker, still lived here. He might know something about Trixie.

Frankie got off at Farrell Street and walked up the hill; the bartender at Crane’s Beer Hall had told him where Teaker lived. Man, what a dump, Frankie thought as he found the shack. An old man tottered out.

“I’m lookin’ for Teaker. The guy at Crane’s says he lived here.”

The man came closer. “I’m Teaker. Who are…holy shit, Frankie, is that you?”

Frankie knew his mouth dropped. “What happened to you?”

“Fifteen years, Frank. You look older, too.”

Can’t be as bad as you. He ran his fingers through his gray hair, noticed the veins in his other hand were more pronounced. “I guess.”

“I had some bad times. Not as bad as you, though. I never went down. How’d ya hold up in there?”

“Letters. From Trixie.”

“I thought she was in the can, too.”

“Got out after a while. She wrote me every day from here. That’s why I’m back.”

“Trixie? She ain’t living in Iverton no more.”

“I don’t get it.” Frankie cocked his head and thought hard. The pain, which had started to recede, instantly came back. “Got any beer?”

“Yeah, sure. Come onto the porch.”

Frankie sat on a rickety chair under an overhang. Once he chugged some ale, he could think more clearly. “You ever hear from Janey?”

“Shit, no. She married some doctor and went to live in New York.”

His heart began to beat fast. “New York’s a big place. The city?”

Teaker lit a cigar and sat back. “Nah. On a lake, I think.”

“There’s a shitload of lakes in New York.”

“I dunno which one.”

“Who might?”

His old drinking buddy raised his bushy gray eyebrows. “I think there was somethin’ in the paper a while back about her doctor husband getting a grant to find a cure for some disease.”

“Yeah? Who’d know about that?”

“Maybe Mrs. Fox.”

Frankie recognized the name of the librarian he and his buddies used to terrorize. “Hell, she ain’t dead yet?”

“She’s too mean to die, Frankie.”

“You remember Janey’s new name?”

“Nope. But the article could tell you.”

Frankie finished his beer and crumpled the can in his fist. Promising to bring up a six-pack later that night and reminisce about old times, he left.

No way was he going to come back, though. He wouldn’t waste his time with that loser when he could be looking for Trixie. Frankie still couldn’t figure out all those letters coming from Iverton, if she hadn’t been here.

He found old lady Fox at the library. She was ancient now and just as nasty. Everybody in this hick town treated him like dirt. Everybody was always after him. The bitch turned him over to her younger staff member, who found the article on the computer for him.

He read it anxiously.

Janey Lawrence…Christopher.

Married the up-and-coming doctor, had two boys.

Bingo! In Orchard Place, New York.

Almost as an afterthought, he googled the husband. The guy had a freakin’ Web site for his practice and the grant thing Teaker told him about. It also had a section on family. He clicked that link. There was Janey. Older, heavier, but Janey all the same. She had Trixie’s looks, but Trixie was prettier. He waded through photos of the kids, the colleagues. The last picture was a family shot of all the Christophers. And arm in arm with Janey was her sister. Tessa. God he hated when people called her that. He stared at the different hair and clothes, but she had the same eyes, mouth and features of his beloved Trixie. He’d recognize that face anywhere. Glancing around, he printed off the picture.

Frankie smiled all the way to the bus station. If Janey was in Orchard Place, chances were her sister would be there. Those two were like Siamese twins. And Janey had hated Frankie with a passion. She’d tried every way she could to break them up but never could.

At the bus station, he bought his ticket. The attendant told him it was a ten-hour ride from Iverton to Orchard Place, stopping several times. But Frankie didn’t care. He was gonna see Trixie. He might have to bitch-slap her around some for not staying put, but after that there’d be pure bliss.

Finally, him and Trixie were going to be together again.

CHAPTER FOUR

TESSA ARRANGED FOOD at the picnic table on the patio of her sister’s home, where the family had gathered for their Memorial Day picnic. The sun was shining and the sky was cloudless; a warm breeze wafted over her, carrying the sweet sound of chirping birds, making this a halcyon afternoon.

“I like seeing that.”

Tessa looked up at Janey’s husband, Brad, who’d come over from the grill. “What do you like seeing?”

“You smiling.” He slid his arm around her. “We were worried after the accident. Your sister freaked.”

“I’m sorry she spends her time fretting over me. She always has, Brad. I can’t seem to break her of the habit.”

Brad shook his head—he was mostly bald now and had shaved off what was left of his hair. Still, he was fit and youthful-looking for forty-five. “You two had a hard life. You, especially.”

“I guess.” She held Brad’s gaze a moment. He knew about her past, of course, because he was married to her sister; after Tessa had been released from prison, she had lived with Janey.

Just the thought of her time in jail made her shiver. Dawson Federal Prison Camp was a minimum security facility, without bars, but the prisoners were locked down at night, performed long tedious work details and had no say over their time. Worse, Tessa had always had a sense of foreboding, as if something bad was going to happen to her. A few times, awful things had…even now, she sometimes woke up in a cold sweat from a bad dream.

Hugging her tighter, Brad whispered, “Don’t think about it, kid.”

“I try not to.”

“Hey, buddy, what are you doing with my wife?”

Tessa and Brad both smiled as Dan approached. He’d just gotten out of the pool, and his muscles were outlined by his T-shirt. Damp from the water, his navy shirt heightened the color of his eyes.

“Just catching up.” Brad took a carrot stick from the plate on the table. “I haven’t seen her much.”

Dan shrugged. “You’ve been out of town a lot.”

“Yeah, this grant thing’s great, but it’s hell on my life. We had to hire a new internist to take on some of my patients. Janey’s been terrific but I know it’s hard on her.”

“That’s what you get for being such a world-renowned researcher.”

“Says the hotshot D.A.” Brad glanced over at his wife, who was sprawled in a lounge chair getting some sun. “I wanted to ask you two to watch out for her and the kids. I’ve got that trip to London coming up, and I’ll be gone awhile.”

“Of course.” Dan’s expression grew serious. “Any time.”

“I’m sorry I can’t get back for the Citizen of the Year dinner. Janey will stay for it, though, and come to London afterward when Oxford officially awards me the grant.”

Dan clapped Brad on the back. “It won’t be the same without you.”

After exchanging more small talk, Brad went to check the meat on the grill, and Tessa and Dan stood watching the kids playing in the pool. Dan’s mother, Claire, who’d been taking pictures of them, got up from the poolside bench. At sixty, she was an attractive woman with gray-bobbed hair, youthful skin and a generous smile, though today it seemed forced. “Can I help?” she asked Tessa.

“No, we’re waiting on the grill. Want some lemonade?”

“Yes, dear.”

While she poured her mother-in-law a glassful, Dan put his arm around Claire’s shoulder and kissed her. “You okay?”

She looked up at him. “He’s not coming, I guess.”

“Nick had a lot going on at the center, Mom. Don’t take it personally.”

“It is personal. He’ll never forgive me for how I treated him after your father…left. It happened so long ago, and he’s done so much with his life. I wish he could forgive and forget.”

Tessa handed her the drink. “He’ll come around.”

“We Logans can’t seem to put the past behind us.”

Dan’s brow furrowed. “Did something happen?”

His mother sipped the lemonade, then ran her finger around the rim of the glass. “I received a letter from your father’s attorney. Daniel’s earning money again and wanted to know if we needed anything.”

Dan’s stance shifted. “Several years too late,” he said, his tone clipped. “We worked like dogs to survive after he used up all our money and stole more.”

Sometimes when Dan talked about his father, it chilled Tessa. He seemed to turn into a different man, one she didn’t really know.

“Be that as it may, I don’t want anything from him, but I’d like to stop taking your money, Dan.”

“Why?” Tessa asked. “We’re not hurting.”

“You two could vacation more. Have a new car every few years.”

Dan smiled at Tessa. “We’ve got all we need, don’t we, sweetheart?”

“You bet. And we use the money I earn at the library for anything extra we want.”

Dan refused to let her put her paycheck toward necessities. Instead she bought frills for the girls, Dan and sometimes herself, and used what was left for vacations, like a weekend away with her husband now and then. One of those was coming up. They were taking a few extra days when Dan had to go to Rockford to give a presentation to the city council on some innovative crime prevention work he’d done with underprivileged kids.

“Steaks are ready,” Brad called.

“Come on, Mom, I’ll help you find a rare one.” Dan grasped her arm and glanced over at Tessa. He mouthed “thank you.”

She nodded. She didn’t care about the money they gave Claire. No one wanted for anything in her household, and his mother couldn’t make ends meet on the hospital aide job she’d taken once she’d retired from full-time work. Though her condo was paid for, she needed other income.

Molly yelled from the pool, “Mom, look!”

Glancing over, Tessa saw her little daredevil do a backflip off the diving board.

Tessa’s chest tightened. “Be careful, honey.” Too protective, she knew. She had to lighten up.

Janey stood and yelled something to Molly about being careful. She wore a white swimsuit, high-cut at the legs. Tessa was in a navy Speedo swimsuit, with a wraparound skirt tied at her waist…

Buy this bathing suit, Trix. It’s sexy as hell.

I don’t want to. It’s too revealing.

I want you revealed, doll.

No, Frankie.

He’d grabbed her arms.

You’re hurting me. What’s wrong with you?

Don’t say that. Nothing’s wrong with me. Why do people keep sayin’ that to me?

Although the day was warm, Tessa shivered.

“Honey,” Dan called from the grill. “Come on, steaks are ready.”

“Be right there. I need to get more drinks.” She fled into the kitchen. Her life was wonderful, and she was going to enjoy it. She put on a big fat smile as she took the lemonade concentrate out of Janey’s freezer and brought them to the sink.

ALLISON MARKHAM was a striking woman. Her auburn hair, caught up in a twist, accented the flawless perfection of her face. She was dressed in her customary tailored suit. At one time, Dan had loved the cool sophistication Allison seemed to have been born with. He chuckled to himself at how he ever thought this woman could make him happy.

“I won’t plea down on this case, Dan. Your offer is insulting.”

He shook his head. “It’s the only one you’re going to get. Your client is a criminal, Allison, no matter how white his collar is. He cheated senior citizens out of their pensions.”

Her expression softened, and she hitched a hip on his desk. He got a hint of the French perfume she always wore. “That’s why you’re being such a hard-ass about this. Because it kicks in to what your father did.”

“No, because Sam Albert belongs behind bars. You should be working to keep scum like him out of business, not set him free so he can trick more people on a fixed income.”

Anger sparked in her gray eyes. He should have known better. Allison gave as good as she got, both in her professional and personal life. “Doesn’t it get tiring, keeping that halo in place?”

Looking down at his desk, Dan counted to ten. You’d think after all this time, Allison would let up on him. But, no, she was still steamed that he’d broken it off with her for Tessa. And her attitude had seemed to worsen in recent months. Probably because Allison’s marriage had ended not too long ago. Rumors had spread that it was an acrimonious split. He guessed that would make anybody sour. And maybe it made sense to take out her issues on Dan—in truth, they could have been married and she’d never have gone through the divorce.

Regardless, he wasn’t going to back down on this case. He looked her square in the eye. “This meeting is over. I refuse to discuss my personal life with you or anyone else. The offer on Albert stands. Take it or leave it.”

“I’ll let you know.”

“It’s only on the table for today.”

Damn it, he hadn’t planned to say that. But Allison could push his buttons.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Sorry, I’m not.”

She pushed off from the desk and glowered at him. “Someday, something’s going to bring you down, Dan. You’re going to find out you’re no better than everyone else.”

“I don’t think I’m better than anyone else. Far from it.”

“Get real. I hope you and your perfect wife are ready for the fall when it happens.”

Man, that divorce really had soured her. For a minute, he was frozen with fear. He’d never be able to handle it if something caused him and Tessa to split. Hell, why was he worrying? Things had never been better between them. Nothing was going to change that.

THE FREAKIN’ TOWN could have come off a postcard. From the bus, Frankie watched the quiet streets pass by—quaint houses alongside the downtown businesses. It reminded him of a picture book he’d had when he was little. He was sick a lot as a kid and had to stay in bed. Once, a priest from the church near his house had brought him a book. It was about God and how He helped a little town. Frankie loved that story. When he was alone at night and scared, he still talked to God.

He got off at the Orchard Place Station, wondering what the hell must have happened to make Trixie leave Iverton. He felt for the letter in his pocket. The last time she wrote to him, she asked him to come to Orchard Place and rescue her. He smiled as he navigated the steps. That was what Frankie was going to do here—save Trixie.

Though it was four in the afternoon, he put on his sunglasses and the fishing hat that he had bought at one of the places the bus had stopped on the trip east. No need to make his presence known yet; just his luck he’d bump into Janey. He looked the same as he had when he’d last seen her, screaming at him after the trial.

I hate you, you bastard.

Shut up, bitch.

Maybe on this visit he could get back at her for saying those things to him, and for poisoning Trixie’s mind against him. She must have brought Trixie here. His beloved wouldn’t have come of her own free will. It made him sick inside not knowing where she was and what she was doing. He had to find out what Trixie had gotten herself into in this Hicksville.

He went inside the station proper and up to the counter. He hated places like this. They suffocated him. That’s why, all his life, Frankie had had to own a car, so he could avoid depressing places like this. He’d had beauties when he was on the outside, which always made him feel like somebody. First thing he was going to do when he found Trixie was get some new wheels.

“Can I help you?” the man behind the plastic asked. He was a weasel of a guy with a bad comb-over.

“Yeah, I need a room to stay for a few days. Where’s the nearest hotel?” He didn’t have a lot of money, but he expected Trixie could get what they’d need to keep them going for a while.

“There’s a couple of bed and breakfasts on the outskirts of town.” The guy shrugged. “Nice if you like company. They serve communal meals.”

That was the last thing Frankie wanted. “Nah, somethin’ with more privacy.”

“There’s a hotel in the center of town. It’s not the newest, but it’s clean and private. Name’s Heritage House.”

“Thanks.” Frankie started to walk away.

“What’s your business here?” the guy called after him.

“None of yours.”

He wouldn’t give himself away—he wanted to surprise Trixie. He could picture her running to him like in those old TV commercials and throwing herself into his arms. And later, the sex would be hot and rough like she liked it.

As he left the bus station, a man in tattered clothes came up to him. “Any spare change, buddy?”

Frankie looked down at the guy. Homeless probably. Because Frankie remembered what it was like to be hungry and have nowhere he belonged, he dug in his pocket. Handing the guy a bill, he said, “Don’t spend it on booze.”

“Sure thing. Thanks, mister.”

The thought of some booze right now sounded good to Frankie. He glanced up and down the street. Then he saw a bar two doors over with a dark interior and a neon sign announcing Zip’s Café. In the window was a beer sign.

Dodging oncoming cars, Frankie crossed the street. Before he went looking for Trixie, he could use a belt or two to calm his nerves. Just the thought of seeing her made him jittery. And sometimes, his mind got cloudy and he didn’t remember things right. Especially when his cold was acting up. But alcohol always let him see things clearer.