The Liar

“That’s awful nice of you, Griffin. She’s already got a crush going on you.”

“Mutual.”

She smiled at him, topped off his Coke. “How long have you been in the Ridge now, Griffin?”

“Going on a year.”

“And don’t you have a girl by now? Somebody who looks like you ought to have the single girls flocking.”

“Well, there was Melody for about ten minutes. And there’s Miz Vi, if only she’d reciprocate.”

“Grandpa’d fight you for her.”

“I’d fight dirty.”

“So would he, and he’s very canny. I have to say, I’m surprised Emma Kate—or surely Miz Bitsy—hasn’t tried fixing you up.”

“Tried, didn’t stick.” He shrugged, downed some Coke. “I haven’t been interested in anyone particularly. Up to now.”

“I guess it just takes . . . Oh.” It may have been a long while, but she supposed a woman didn’t forget that look in a man’s eyes, that tone in a man’s voice. Flustered, and under the flustered she couldn’t deny flattered, she took a careful drink. “Oh,” she repeated. “I’ve got to say, Griff, I’m a complicated, twisted-up mess of a thing right now.”

“I fix things, Red. It’s what I do.”

She managed a nervous laugh. “This is a complete overhaul—what you’d call a gut job, I think. And I come as a set.”

“I like the set, and I know I’m hitting on you pretty quick considering. It just seems to me it’s better to be straight-out. You knocked me flat when you walked into Bitsy’s kitchen. I planned to be slow and a lot smoother about it, but hell, Shelby, why?”

That was straight-out and forthright, she thought, and as unnerving as it was flattering. “You really don’t know me.”

“I plan to.”

This time she let out a laugh that was more stupefied. “Just like that.”

“Unless you take a strong dislike to me, and I don’t think you will. I’m likable. I want to take you out, when you’re ready and want to go. Meanwhile, since I’m attached to Matt and he’s attached to Emma Kate, we’ll be seeing each other. Plus, I really like your kid.”

“I can see that. If I thought different, if I thought she was a kind of conduit with you to me, this would be a different conversation. As it is, I don’t know just what to say to you.”

“Well, you can think about that. I’ve got to get back, and you’ve got things to do. Tell your mom I’ve got the measurements. Once she settles on the tile, the fixtures, we’ll get them ordered.”

“All right.”

“Thanks for the Coke.”

“You’re welcome.” She walked back with him, considering the nerves—those interesting, fluttery nerves she hadn’t felt in so long. A mistake, absolutely a mistake to act on them at this point in her life.

“I meant it about the pizza,” he said at the door.

“Callie would be thrilled.”

“Pick the day, let me know.” He frowned outside a moment, his gaze following the car that passed. “Do you know somebody with a gray Honda? Looks like a 2012.”

“Can’t think of anyone. Why?”

“I keep seeing it. I’ve seen it around a lot the last few days.”

“Well, people do live here.”

“Florida plates.”

“A tourist, I guess. There’s good hiking now while it’s still cool, and the wildflowers are popping out everywhere.”

“Yeah, probably. Anyway, congratulations on scoring the jobs.”

“Thank you.”

She watched him walk away—that swagger really was damn appealing. And he’d gotten her blood moving in ways she’d forgotten it could move.

Still, it was best all around if she kept all her attention on Callie, her new work, and climbing her way out of the canyon of debt.

Thinking of debt, she started upstairs. She’d change, work out a new budget, check and see if there was any progress on the house sale, or if there was any more money coming from the consignment shop. Then she could think about a playlist.

That was work, true enough, but it was also fun—smarter to get the hard over with first.

She stopped dead in the doorway of her room.

A gray Honda with Florida plates. She scrambled for her dresser, pulled out the drawer where she’d put all the business cards from Philadelphia.

And there was Ted Privet, Private Investigator. Miami, Florida.

She had seen him in the bar and grill. He’d followed her all the way back to the Ridge. Why would he do that? What did it mean?

He was watching her.

She made herself go to the window, look out, search.

She had no choice about the debt coming home with her, but she wouldn’t sit still, do nothing, when more of Richard’s mess tried to push its way into her life now.

Instead of getting to work, she picked up her phone.

“Forrest? I’m sorry to bother you at work, but I think I have some trouble. I think I could use some help with it.”

•   •   •

HE LISTENED TO HER, didn’t interrupt, didn’t ask any questions. That only made her more nervous, babbling it all out to her brother while he sat there cool as ice, his eyes on her face telling her nothing.

“Is that it?” he said when she ran down.

“I think so. Yes, that’s it, that’s all. I guess it’s more than enough.”

“Do you have the IDs, the ones you found in the bank box?”

“Yes.”

“I’m going to need them.”

“I’ll go get them.”

“Sit. I’m not done.”

So she sat back down at the kitchen counter, knotted her hands together on it.