The Liar

“I really want to see your house.”

“You do?”

She broke out in a smile. “I really do, and I’ve been trying to figure how to invite myself for a tour.”

“Consider it done.”

“I could bring dinner.”

“I’ll take care of it. Seven?”

“If we made it seven-thirty, I could give Callie her bath first.”

“Seven-thirty.”

“I need to check with Mama first, but I expect she’ll be fine with it. And you should listen to what else has come out before we make any sort of date.”

“It’s already a date.” He kissed her lightly before he walked away.

She thought that quick gesture had been a statement, a kind of stamp. And couldn’t quite figure out if she minded that or not. She put it in the back of her mind as she went back on stage for her next set.

She saw Forrest come in with her grandparents, take the empty seats.

But she didn’t notice the brunette until halfway through her set. Shelby’s heart jumped, but she kept the song going when their eyes met.

Had she been there all along, tucked into a table at the back, barely visible in the shadows?

Shelby looked away, tried to catch Forrest’s eye, but he’d gone up to the bar, wasn’t looking in her direction.

The brunette rose, stood a moment, sipping from a martini glass. Then she set it down, put on a dark jacket. She added a smile, kissed her fingertip, flicked it in Shelby’s direction, then strolled out.

She finished out her set—what else could she do? Then made a beeline for Forrest.

“She was here.”

He didn’t have to ask who. “Where?”

“In the back.”

“Who?” Griff demanded.

“She left,” Shelby continued. “Easy fifteen minutes ago. She’s gone, but she was here.”

“Who?” Griff demanded again.

“It’s hard to explain.” Shelby pasted on a smile, turned and waved when someone called her name. “I have to work. Maybe you could fill them in some, Forrest. I couldn’t get your attention when I saw her, but I swear she was here.”

“Who?” Griff demanded for the third time when Shelby walked over to another table.

“I’ll tell you about it, but I’m going to take a little look around outside.”

“I’ll go with you.” When Matt started to rise, Griff shook his head. “Keep the table. We’ll be back.”

“What’s all this?” Viola leaned over.

“Nothing to worry about. I’ll explain when I get back.” Forrest gave her shoulder a rub, then made his way out with Griff.

“What the fuck, Forrest? What woman? And why did she put that look in Shelby’s eyes?”

“What look?”

“Half scared, half pissed.”

Forrest paused at the door. “You read her pretty well.”

“I’m making a study of it. Get used to it.”

“Is that so?”

“That’s down-to-the-ground so.”

Forrest’s eyes narrowed as he nodded. “I have to think about that. Meanwhile, we’re looking for a hot brunette, about thirty, round about five-six, brown eyes.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s looking like she was married to the guy Shelby thought she was married to.”

“What? Thought? What?”

“And she’s bad business—so was the asshole Shelby likely wasn’t married to after all. A lot worse than I figured, and I figured bad enough.”

“Was Shelby married or not?”

“It’s hard to say.”

“How can it be hard to say?” Frustrated, and temper building under it, Griff threw up his hands. “It’s yes or no.”

Forrest scanned the street, the cars parked along the curb, the light traffic passing by. “Why are people from the North always in such a damn hurry? A story takes time to tell properly. I’ll do that while we walk around back, see what we see. Have you put your hands on my sister?”

“Not so much. Not yet. But I’m going to, so get used to that, too.”

“Does she want your hands on her?”

“You should know me well enough by now, damn it, Forrest. They don’t go on her unless she wants them on her.”

“I know you well enough by now, Griff, but it’s my sister here, so that takes more. And it’s my sister who’s been fucked over right, left, sideways. So that’s more yet.”

He told the story as they walked around the side of the building, made their way toward the back and the parking lot.

“And you think this woman’s telling it straight?”

“She’s telling enough of it straight so I know the bastard Shelby was with was a liar and a thief. I’ll be doing some looking for something on this millions in jewelry and stamps she claims they stole or conned somebody out of.”

His eyes, shadowed in the dim light, scanned the cars. “If they hadn’t bussed the brunette’s table, I could’ve gotten prints off it, gotten her name, her real one.”

“If she’s telling the truth about being married to Foxworth, he was using Shelby all along.” Griff stuffed his hands in his pockets, paced away. “And Callie . . .”

“Callie’s going to be fine either way. Shelby will see to that. But I’d like to have a conversation with this woman who’s dogging her.”

“Brunette, right? Hot, brown-eyed brunette.”

“That’s right.”

“I don’t think you’re going to have any conversations with her. Better come over here.” Griff took a deep breath as Forrest hurried toward him. “Looks like we found her.”

She sat, slumped in the driver’s seat of a silver BMW, eyes wide and staring. Blood still seeped from the tiny black hole in her forehead.