Behind Every Lie(59)

“—and Mom hired a moving van and Lily got all the guys in the neighborhood to pack it full of things that they would need instead of doing the garage sale.” I smiled at the memory. It felt nice connecting with my brother.

I picked at a splotch of gold lacquer on my desk, but my stubby nails were too short to get it off.

“Are you just getting off work?” I asked.

“No, I was at the police station. Detective Jackson brought me in for questioning.” Andrew enunciated each word sharply, the way he did when he was pissed off.

“Why? They don’t suspect you too, do they?”

He sighed. “They suspect everybody. It’s part of their job.” I could tell when Andrew put our call on the hands-free system, the sound becoming a tinny echo. “Did you know the police found your DNA and fingerprints at Mom’s house?”

I didn’t reply.

“Eva—” He stopped abruptly, like he was debating what his next words should be. “It’s strange that you can’t remember anything. And you didn’t remember the night you were … you know. You didn’t remember that either.…”

What was he really trying to ask me? I thought of the knife in my hand, the blinding, all-consuming rage, so intense it hijacked the logical part of my brain. But then I thought of our camping trips on Whidbey Island when I was a kid. Dad always stayed behind to work, but Mom would pack up our camping stuff, and she and Andrew and I would squish into one tiny tent and it would be cold and rainy, even in June, but we’d all be laughing as we set up another game of Uno.

I loved my mother. I did. That was real.

“Did you hurt Mom?” Andrew asked.

“I can’t believe you would even ask me that,” I whispered. My eyes burned. Was I really capable of doing this thing they all thought I did? “It’s just circumstantial evidence. It doesn’t mean I did anything wrong! What about you? Weren’t your DNA and fingerprints there?”

“Yes, but I was at her house last week.”

“Why?”

The sound of shifting gears reverberated over the hands-free.

“I was meeting her for dinner. She didn’t answer my knock, so I let myself in and waited. Anyway, I was always visiting her. I mowed her lawn, took her to dinner, changed her fucking lightbulbs. What did you do? You were never around! Even now, you’re off in your own world! So explain to me, Eva, why are your fingerprints on the mug? What did you do to Mom?”

He’d raised his voice so he was almost shouting. I gasped, stunned by the vitriol from my stoic brother.

“Did you know Mom had a gun?” Andrew bit out. “Did you ever stop to think, maybe she bought a gun because she was afraid of you?”



* * *



“Eva.”

The sound of my name made me jump. I lifted my head from where it was resting on the surface of my desk. Liam was standing in the garage doorway holding a glass of red wine. His eyes were circled with purplish rings, his features dragged down by exhaustion. He held the glass out to me like a peace offering.

“Thank you.” I took a giant gulp, relishing the acidic burn of the wine sliding down my throat. I rarely drank since that night four years ago, but I needed something to soothe the venom of Andrew’s words.

“You okay?”

I sighed. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.” Liam knelt next to me, his gaze earnest. “About earlier. I shouldn’t have tried to force you to go to the hospital.”

I pressed a finger to his lips and kissed him, long and slow. His arms tightened around me, his body solid and steady against mine.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” I said. “You’re just worried about me, and I appreciate it. And you’re right, I do need to go. Maybe the lightning has changed me. I feel like I’ve landed in the wrong country, a million miles from the person I used to be.”

“Well, I’m here to take care of you. I’ll help you fill in the gaps.”

I pressed my face into the crook of his neck, my body softening against his. Liam’s heartbeat thrummed against my forehead, steady as a drum. He lifted my chin and kissed me again, a kiss that told me I was his world.

When he pulled away, he was smiling. “I’m not going anywhere. We’re in this together, okay? Forever.”

I nodded, and Liam pulled me to my feet.

“Come on,” he said. “You’re too pale. You need a proper meal, something with lots of protein. Go wash your hands and clean yourself up. I’ll get dinner started. I have a salmon in the fridge. It’s wild and sustainable so we don’t destroy the oceans.”

He smiled, a teasing glint in his eye. Liam thought it was charming—his word—that I’d spent most of my adult life trying to reduce my carbon footprint. I wore secondhand clothes. I had been a vegetarian since I was a teenager. I recycled everything. These things were completely foreign to a man like Liam.

Fish was, strictly speaking, against my rules as a vegetarian. But right now I didn’t want to argue. I wanted Liam to be happy, and he was happiest when he was taking charge.

“Fine.” I followed him into the kitchen. “But after we eat, I need the number for that lawyer. I want to make sure he’ll come with me to the detective’s office in the morning.”