Behind Every Lie(8)

“I think that’s enough now, Detective,” he said firmly. “Eva’s told you everything she knows. You can direct any other questions to my lawyer.”

Detective Jackson opened his mouth to argue, but snapped it shut. Liam had that effect on people. They just did what he wanted. Call it charm, charisma, whatever, people rarely questioned him. And if they did, he persisted until he got what he wanted. Liam’s confidence, his certainty, were exactly why I fell in love with him.

Detective Jackson lifted his palms, like he was saying, You win. He pulled a card from his wallet, dropping it on my lap.

“Kat Hansen was murdered. I’m going to do whatever it takes to find out who’s responsible for that.”

He turned to go, then stopped and faced me. He held my gaze, direct, stony. “Again, I’m sorry for your loss.”





five

eva




ONCE THE DETECTIVE HAD LEFT, Liam turned to me. “All right, tell me what you really remember.”

He’d crossed his arms over his chest and was frowning. Hurt corkscrewed through me. Didn’t he believe me?

“I don’t remember anything,” I whispered.

“Babe, this is important!” Worry creased the skin between his eyebrows. “Your mom’s been murdered, and that detective is trying to question you.”

I put my hands over my face, tears pressing against my eyelids. “I don’t know! I don’t know what I remember! I can’t do this, that cop … It doesn’t matter what I say! He’s only going to believe what he wants to anyway!”

Liam sat next to me, his weight dipping the bed as he put his arms around me. I turned my face into his chest and leaned against him, needing his reassurance.

“Don’t worry. I won’t ever let anything bad happen to you. I’ll take care of this.”

He stood and started pacing, his mind whirling three steps ahead, mentally making lists of things to do. Nobody was as good in a crisis as Liam. When he set his mind to achieving something, he put all his energy into making it happen. He’d found me when I was at my lowest, picked me up, and fixed the broken pieces.

“I know a guy at the SPD,” he said. “I’ll call him and find out what exactly they know. And then we’ll call my lawyer. But first I need you to tell me what you really remember about last night. We’re on the same team here—I just want to make sure I know everything so I can help.”

I let my head drop back onto the pillow, wincing in pain. I ran a hand through my hair, my fingers gently kneading my aching skull. The IV tugged at the inside of my arm. I was profoundly tired. Like on a cellular level.

“I already told you,” I said wearily. “I don’t know.”

“Anything can help. Do you remember getting home or going to bed? Or cutting your hand?”

“I don’t remember anything!” I shouted.

We both froze. Liam’s mouth fell open in shock. I had never shouted at him, never lashed out, not even once. I could be sulky, maybe a little brooding, but never angry. Liam said it was the artist in me. In fact, it was one of the things he mentioned when he proposed. I love that we never fight. I want to spend the rest of my life knowing I make you happy.

Liam puffed his cheeks out and exhaled sharply. I knew exactly what he was thinking: What the hell is wrong with her? I was wondering the same thing.

“You believe me”—my voice hitched—“right?”

I needed Liam to believe me. I couldn’t lose him—he was the only stable thing in my life.

Liam rubbed a hand over his jaw, the stubble making a harsh rasping sound. “Look, everything’s going to be fine. I promise.”

It was only after he’d left that I realized he hadn’t answered my question.



* * *



I woke that afternoon to the sound of rain pattering against the dirty window next to my bed. Anemic light filtered through the blinds. Beyond that, the sky was sullen, a hard, uniform gray. The sleep had done wonders, and physically I already felt better. I could move my arm, my ear didn’t throb as much, and my headache had dimmed.

Outside, a small brown bird hopped onto the window ledge. It stared at me solemnly. I took a crumb from the uneaten sandwich that had been left for my lunch and unlatched the window. It only opened an inch, but I pushed the crumb through and watched as the bird grabbed it and flew away, leaving me vaguely lonely.

A shadow, sharp as a sword, appeared on the other side of the frosted-glass door. It hovered there, someone trying to peer inside. My palms went slick.

Somebody’s there.

I shrank against the bed, heart throbbing, feeling trapped and terrified. Images tumbled over me, twisting and shifting. I was running in the dark. Black and purple clouds. The air crackling. Rain hitting my scalp. The sound of shoes hitting wet pavement.

“Eva! What’s wrong?” Liam’s voice came from very far away. His arms circled my hunched body, warm and solid, and I realized I was rocking back and forth. My face was damp with tears.

“Someone’s there,” I whispered.

Liam’s footsteps faded as he walked down the hall, then a minute later returned. He shut the door with a soft click.

“It’s only a doctor.” He gently pressed me onto the bed. “Here, lie down.”