The Liar

“Do you have the gun?”

“I . . . Yes. I made sure it wasn’t loaded, and I have it in a box, top of my closet, where Callie can’t get to it.”

“And any of the cash—from the box?”

“I kept three thousand of it in cash—it’s up in my closet, too. I used most of the rest, like I said, to pay off bills. And I put some in the bank here. I opened an account here in the Ridge.”

“I want all of it. The IDs, the gun, the cash, the envelopes, anything you have that came out of the box.”

“All right, Forrest.”

“Now, I’m going to ask you why the fuck, why the fuck, Shelby, you’re just telling me all this now?”

“The hole was so deep, and it got deep so fast. First Richard’s dead, and I’m trying to think what to do, then the lawyers are telling me there’s all this trouble. I start going through the bills. I just never did that, because he locked them up. They were his business—and don’t slap at me for it. You weren’t there, you didn’t live that life, so don’t slap at me for it. Then I found out about the house, and everything. I had to deal with it. I found the key, and I had to know. Then when I found the bank box, and what was in it . . . I don’t know who I married, who I lived with, who fathered my child.”

She took a long breath. “And I couldn’t let that matter, couldn’t let that take the rest over. What matters is now, and dealing with it until I’m clear of it. Keeping Callie clear of it. I don’t know why this detective followed me here. I don’t have anything. I don’t know anything.”

“I’ll deal with that.”

“I’ll thank you for it.”

“I might’ve slapped at you some, Shelby. But just to wake you up. You’re my sister, goddamn it. We’re your family.”

She linked her fingers together again, to hold herself in. “You think I’ve forgotten that, and you’re wrong. If you think I don’t value that, you’re stupid.”

“What should I think?” he countered.

“That I did what I thought was right. I couldn’t come back until I’d started climbing out of that hole, Forrest. I wouldn’t. Maybe you think that’s just pride, just stupid, but I couldn’t come back and put all of it on my family.”

“You couldn’t ask for a hand, a hand to reach down and help you up out of it?”

“Well, Jesus God, Forrest, aren’t I doing just that? But I had to get up far enough to reach a hand. That’s what I’m doing now.”

He pushed up, paced around the room, stopped at the window for a while, looking out in silence. “All right. Maybe I see your side of that. I don’t have to say you’re right to see it. Go ahead, get me everything you have.”

“What are you going to do? It’s still my business, Forrest.”

“I’m going to have a talk with this Florida PI, let him know I don’t take kindly to him stalking my sister. Then I’m going to do what I can to find out who the hell you were married to.”

“I think he stole that money he had stashed in the bank box, or he swindled it. Dear God, Forrest, if I have to pay all that back—”

“You won’t. You took what you took legally. Whatever he did, it’s pretty damn clear there’s nothing left to pay anybody back. One more thing. You’re going to tell all of this to the rest of the family. You’re going to get this out.”

“Gilly’s about to have a baby.”

“No excuses, Shelby. You’re going to sit down tonight, after Callie’s in bed, and tell everyone. I’ll make sure they’re all here. You want them to get word some private investigator from out of state’s asking questions about their daughter, their sister?”

Because she saw the sense of it, she pressed her fingers to her eyes. “No. You’re right. I’ll tell them. You have to take my side, Forrest, when Mama and Daddy start talking about helping me pay off this debt. I won’t have it.”

“That’s fair enough.” He came over, put his hands on her shoulders. “I am on your side, you idiot.”

She dipped her forehead to his chest. “I can’t wish the years away without wishing Callie away, but I can wish I’d been stronger standing up to him. It feels like every time I found my footing, something changed and I lost it again.”

“It sounds to me like he was good at making sure people didn’t find their footing around him. Go on, get all the things from the box. Let me get going on this.”

•   •   •

IT DIDN’T TAKE LONG to track down the private investigator, not when the man had opted to hide in plain sight. He’d registered under his own name at the hotel—though he’d spread the word he was a freelance travel writer.

Forrest considered confronting him there, but he thought he’d give Privet a taste of his own medicine. Once he was off duty and in his own truck, he did some cruising until he spotted the Honda parked outside The Artful Ridge.

Forrest parked the truck, got out and strolled by the shop. Sure enough, the man he’d spent an hour or so running stood talking with Melody.

He’d get an earful about Shelby from that source, no question. With his target sighted, he went back to his truck, waited.