struggle?”
She blinked away the tears, refusing to speak.
“What about your mom and dad? Did they argue a lot?”
Her jaw clenched and her voice went hard: “I’d rather die than say anything bad about my dad. He would never hurt my mom. Never.” She glared at him from across the table, taking in a ragged breath. “I want to talk to my uncle. I know you can’t keep me here. You can’t make me say another word.”
James waited for Carly in the lobby at the police station, drumming his fingertips against his jeans-clad thigh, too intimidated to ask anyone where she was.
As Arlen would say, he was as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Any minute, he expected a uniform to slap on the cuffs, arresting him for having his girlfriend in a compromising position in a public place.
Or any number of other, unreported transgressions.
James had witnessed a thousand illegal activities at Stephen’s house, and he was no lily-white innocent himself. He’d been stealing a pint of whisky for Arlen from the booze aisle at Neptune Grocery every Saturday night for the past five years. It was more than luck that he’d never been caught. It was a freaking miracle.
He started sweating. Hell, they probably had a poster with his face on it around here somewhere. They were definitely looking for the anonymous tipster who left a message about Lisette. What if Summer had already turned him in?
Surreptitiously, he rose to his feet, holding on to the armrest of the chair for balance. Putting one foot in front of the other, he counted the steps to the door, his ears ringing in anticipation of someone saying,
He was only inches from freedom when he heard a voice behind him. “James!”
It was Carly. He froze, weighing his options. Bolting outside was pretty tempting. But playing it cool in front of Carly outranked all.
He turned to see her beautiful, troubled face. A beefy cop had his hand clamped around her upper arm. Uh- oh.
She struggled against the unwanted restraint. “This is my boyfriend. Get off me.”
The cop squinted at James, sizing him up and probably finding him lacking. James gulped under the examination.
The officer nodded and released her. “Ma’am,” he said in a polite voice, and ambled away.
Carly looked around the lobby uneasily. She seemed as nervous around the law as he was, if such a thing were possible. “I have to talk to you outside,” she said, grabbing his arm and leading him away.
“Thank God,” he replied, hurrying along beside her.
Outside in the parking lot, she stopped him, her face pale, eyes wide with panic. “They think my dad killed Lisette.”
His stomach dropped. “What?”
“Lisette’s been missing since last Friday, when she stayed over at my house. Now she’s dead and my dad is in deep shit.”
James thought of all the secrets he’d been keeping. Some had been building his entire life. Others had piled up more recently. Arlen’s abuse of women and children. Lisette’s body. Stephen’s drugs. Summer’s job. Seven minutes in heaven. A lifetime in hell.
“Fuck,” he said, sitting down on the curb, putting his face in his hands. “Fuck,” he repeated, knowing what he had to do.
Carly stamped her foot. “I need your support here, James. I need someone to be strong, because I’m feeling really weak.”
James stood up immediately, taking her in his arms and shielding her with his body, protecting her. “I’m here. I’ll make it better. I promise.”
While they stood there together, drawing strength from each other, a scruffy-looking young man came out of the lobby. His T-shirt was faded and his jeans were torn. Barely glancing at them, he lit up a cigarette and took a deep drag, seeking as much solace in that lonely action as Carly and James had in their embrace.
“That’s my brother,” James said, hardly recognizing him in the surreal situation. Waving to get his attention, he watched Stephen come forward, a puzzled expression on his haggard face.
James was intensely aware of Carly’s slender arms around his neck, the proximity of her body, the smell of her shampoo. He knew how it looked to Stephen, and felt a measure of regret that he hadn’t trusted his brother enough to take him into his confidence.
In addition to confusion, Stephen’s face registered a mixture of emotions James didn’t understand. One was relief. “Damn, man, where have you been?” he asked, glancing at Carly. “You had me worried half to death.”
James felt Carly’s hands drop away from him.
Stephen gave him a canny look. “This your girlfriend?”
“I’m Carly,” she said, flashing a thousand-watt smile.
Stephen blinked, momentarily blinded by her beauty. Then he recovered. “Stephen,” he said, shaking her hand. “No wonder you’ve been hiding out,” he added, arching a brow at James. “I would be, too, if I had such a pretty lady to hide out with.”
James shuffled his feet, uncomfortable with the deception.
“I have to go back inside and wait for my dad,” Carly said, affecting a sulky pout. She didn’t seem very pleased that he hadn’t mentioned her to Stephen.
“I’ll be a few minutes,” James replied. He needed to talk with his brother about things he didn’t want Carly to overhear.
She turned to leave and then halted, moistening her lips. “James?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I have my panties back now?”
His face grew hot. He fumbled in his pocket, came up with them, and pressed the tiny purple bundle in her hand.
She smiled and gave him a quick kiss before she walked away. Both brothers watched her go, admiring her cute little backside all the more for knowing it was bare underneath a scant few inches of well-worn denim.
When she was out of hearing range, Stephen whistled long and low, clapping James on the back. “Oh my God, bro! How in the hell did you hook up with that?”
“I don’t know,” he said, for it was glaringly obvious she was way out of his league. “But it’s not what you think. She’s a nice girl.”
Stephen took a deep drag on his cigarette. “Whatever you say, dude.”
James was adamant. “I mean it. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about her.”
Stephen studied Carly’s retreating form speculatively. James knew he saw only what she wanted him to see, a sultry facade, but Stephen shrugged, not really caring one way or another. Even before Rhoda and drugs screwed him up, Stephen had been wary of women. He liked looking at them, but that was about it.
“And whatever you do, don’t say anything to Dad.”
Stephen sobered, seeming to understand the reason for James’ secrecy. “Well, James, that’s what I’ve got to talk to you about,” he said, dark blue eyes glinting in the sun. “Dad’s dead.”
When Carly emerged from the ladies’ room, Ben was waiting for her. He clamped his hand around her upper arm, using more pressure than was necessary.
“You’re in big trouble, young lady,” he grated, leading her out the double glass doors.
“Why? I didn’t tell them anything.”
He paused, appalled that his sixteen-year-old daughter had lied to the police. Or, just as he had, simply withheld information. “You talked to them?”
Her perfectly arched brows drew together. “Not really. They asked about Mom’s bracelet.”
Anxiety coursed through him. Why had he believed that motherfucker Grant? Of course they were happy to release Carly-after they were finished grilling her.
She worried at her lower lip. “I said maybe Lisette stole it from your room.”
“Why would you say that?”
Her pretty face crumpled. “I don’t know!”
