The Liar

He patted her hand. “Don’t you worry now. We’ll figure it out. If you think of anything else, anything at all, you tell me about it. Or you tell Forrest if that’s easier for you.”

“I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what to think about any of it.”

Out in the restaurant, Griff had done about all he could do. He’d helped organize people so the deputies could take statements, or just names. He’d helped Derrick serve out coffee, soft drinks, water, as another deputy interviewed the staff in the kitchen.

He’d gone out once for air, had seen the police lights around the BMW, and timed it inadvertently so that he watched them loading the bagged body into the coroner’s wagon.

An experience, he decided, he’d be happy never to repeat.

The second time he made rounds with coffee, Forrest pulled him aside.

“Shelby’s going to be out in a minute or so. I need to keep my hands in this thing here. I’m trusting you with my sister, Griff, because I can.”

“I’ll look out for her.”

“I know you will. She pushed Emma Kate to go home, and that’s likely for the best. She’ll get out of here quicker without another female to stroke her and ask for details. Get her home.”

“You can count on it.”

“I know I can. Coroner’ll know for certain once he digs the bullet out of her, but eyeballing, he figures a .25.”

“Do you know who she is yet? Real name?”

Distracted, Forrest shook his head. “We’ve got her prints now. I’ll be running them myself tonight. There’s Shelby now. Give me a second with her, then get her out. She argues, carry her out.”

“If I do, don’t shoot me.”

“Not this time.” Forrest walked over, took Shelby by the shoulders as he studied her face, then just drew her in, held her.

Whatever he said had her shaking her head, again and again, as she burrowed into him. Then she sagged a little, shrugged. When Forrest let her go she started toward Griff.

He met her halfway.

“Forrest says you need to drive me home. I’m sorry he’s being so fussy.”

“Whatever Forrest says, I’m driving you home. Men aren’t fussy—that’s a girlie word. We’re logical and protective.”

“Sounds fussy to me, but thank you.”

“Let’s go.”

“I should find Tansy first, or Derrick, or—”

“They’re busy.” He didn’t go as far as carrying her, but he took her hand, pulled her firmly away from the building and the hard lights. “We’ll take your van.”

“How are you going to get home if—”

“Don’t worry about it. You’ll need the van. I’ll drive.” He held out his hand for the keys.

“All right. My brain’s too rattled to argue. Nobody knew her around here. People around here don’t just walk up to a strange woman and shoot her in the head, for God’s sake.”

“Which should tell you whoever did isn’t from around here.”

She looked up at him with considerable relief. “That’s what I said to the sheriff.”

“She brought trouble with her, Shelby. That’s how it reads to me.”

“It has to be that O’Hara person.” The one, Shelby remembered, the brunette had warned her about. “She said he was in prison, but she lied about her own name, so who knows what else she lied about. If it was him, and if she was telling the truth about Richard, about all those millions, it’s not safe to be around me.”

“A lot of ifs there. I’ll add some.” He shot her a glance, sorrier than he could say that the sparkle she’d emitted when she sang had dulled. “If this O’Hara’s around and did this, and if he thinks maybe you know something about those millions, it would be pretty stupid to hurt you.”

He waited until she got in the van, then settled behind the wheel.

“And if he’s such a badass, why didn’t she drive away, get the gun in her purse. Why just sit there?”

“I don’t know.” She let her head drop back on the seat. “I thought things couldn’t get crazier. After Richard died and the roof caved in, I thought, This is as bad as it can get. Then it got worse. Then I thought, All right now, that’s as bad as it gets and we’ll work our way through it. Then she came here and it’s worse again. And now this.”

“You’ve had a streak of bad luck.”

“I guess you could put it that way.”

“Luck changes. Yours already has.” At an easy speed, he followed the wind of the road. “You sold the house, you’re carving away the debt. You packed the house tonight and had them in the palm of your hand.”

“You think so?”

“I was in the house,” he said. “And you’ve got a date with me coming. I’m a damn good catch.”

She didn’t think she had a smile in her, but he found it for her. “Are you?”

“Damn right. Just ask my mother. Hell, ask yours.”

“You don’t lack in the confidence department, do you, Griffin?”

“I know who I am,” he told her as he pulled up at her house.

“How the hell are you getting home?” She pushed fingers against that headache spot between her eyes. “I didn’t even think. You can take the van, and I could get Daddy to drive me over and pick it up in the morning.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

He got out, came around. She’d opened the door before he got to it, but he took her hand when she got out.

“You don’t have to walk me to the door.”