Kate Carlisle - The Lies That Bind

“You are here,” I said as I opened the door. “I was a little worried.”

“Oh, it’s you, Brooklyn,” she said with some disappointment. “What is it?”

Ooh, feel the warmth. Had she been expecting someone else to come knocking? I was amazed to see her sitting there as though nothing had happened in the last few days to change her life. But I was even more shocked to see her looking like such a fashion plate. She wore a peach jacket that suited her skin tone and fitted her small frame to perfection, giving her the look of a true professional. Her makeup was subtle and her hair curled softly around her face. The mouse had come out of her shell, to mix a metaphor.

“You look great,” I said.

“Thanks,” she said, and her expression softened a little. “What’s up?”

I stepped inside and closed the door. “This is sort of a sensitive issue, but Layla had a book with her the night she died. It was the Oliver Twist I restored for her. I’d like to buy it from you once the police return it.”

Naomi’s eyes widened-in fear? Or was that speculation? But her face calmed instantly and I was no longer sure what I’d seen. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what book you’re talking about.”

“Layla talked about it the night of the Twisted opening party, remember?”

“Sorry, can’t help you.”

My eyes narrowed. She flinched. What game was she playing? She’d had a bad week, so I gave her the benefit of the doubt and explained the book again. “Since the police took it in for evidence, you probably won’t get it back in time for the silent auction, so I’d like to buy it whenever you do get it back.”

She carefully exhaled. “Oh, yeah, I think I know the book you’re talking about.” She pushed her hair away from her face and set her jaw. “No. Sorry, it’s not for sale.”

I couldn’t tell what was going on in that brain of hers, but she was carrying the mini-Layla bit too far. My gloves were off now.

“Naomi, I did the restoration work on that book. I know it from cover to cover, and I can assure you, it’s not what you think it is.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about its market worth. It’s a truly beautiful book and worth a lot of money, but it’s not the rare first edition Layla pretended it was the other night.”

“Layla wouldn’t lie.”

I almost laughed. “Oh, please. Layla lied plenty. And this time she lied to a room full of wealthy BABA contributors and supporters. And she did it knowingly and willfully.”

“Stop it. I don’t believe you.”

I had to think for a moment. Naomi did wield some power at BABA, but I didn’t think she was capable of sabotaging my career like her aunt was. So I decided to plunge ahead with the truth. “I’m sorry, Naomi, but Layla was not being honest about the book. And if you continue her lie and try to pass it off as a first edition, you’ll get caught. Whoever buys it will find out soon enough what the book was really worth. Do you know how fast your funding would be cut off if your corporate sponsors found out about it?”

Naomi’s face was a sickly gray. She blinked rapidly and shook her head. “I can’t… it’s not…” She mumbled something incoherent, pushed away from her desk, and ran from the room.

“Well, that went well.” I blew out a breath and wandered back to the gallery, looking for someone else to browbeat.

“Hello, darling.”

Shock and pleasure overcame me. Derek was loitering by the bookshelf in the north alcove, thumbing through one of the many other copies of Oliver Twist on exhibit.

I slipped my arms around his waist and rested my head against his rock-solid chest.

“Ah, that’s lovely.” He wrapped his arms around me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Hoping to see you, of course.”

“That’s so sweet.”

“I’m a sweet guy.”

“But isn’t Gunther giving a class tonight?”

“Is he?”

“Very funny. That’s why you’re here.”

“Yes, well, I’d still rather see you.” He seemed reluctant to let me go and I was perfectly happy to stay right where I was. After another minute or so, he said, “No matter what happens, I’m taking you out tonight.”

“Are you?”

“I am.” He leaned his head back and frowned at me. “You’re not otherwise engaged, are you?”

“Do you care?” I asked.

His mouth twisted into a sexy grin. “Of course I care.”

I patted the lapel of his bazillion-dollar Savile Row suit. “Then I’m available.”

“I’m glad.”

We continued to smile at each other and I tried to put a name to the emotion running through me. I felt… happy. No, more than happy. Blissful. Complete.

There was that sappiness again. Really, I didn’t need anyone to complete me, for God’s sake. I was complete all on my own.

And how complete could someone else make me feel when I’d never even been on a date with him? Crime scenes, yes. But unless crime scenes counted as dates, I barely knew him.

And just how happy and blissful would I be when he left? Did I really want to open myself to the pain I would suffer then? Because he would leave. His home was six thousand miles away. He’d only been to San Francisco a few times on business.

But none of that mattered to my heart right now. Or any other parts of me, either. I didn’t know what was going on between Derek and me, didn’t know where we would end up, but I was tired of fighting against the tide. I just wanted to be with him.

I rested my head on his custom-suited shoulder.

“Don’t ever play poker,” he said, brushing back my hair to nuzzle my neck.

“Why not?”

“Your face is an open book.”

I lifted my head and studied his face for a moment, then frowned. “I can’t read one word on yours.”

“That’s because I’m a highly trained operative,” he said, bending his head to graze his lips along my jaw.

I laughed. “Oh, Commander, does that line really work?”

“I believe it’s working right now,” he murmured, and kissed my neck.

After that exhilarating dinner break, I found myself racing through the second half of the class. There was more laughter and lots of questions. I tried to slow down, tried to be attentive to everyone’s needs, but I just wanted to get out of there.

I’d already given myself the lecture about appearing too eager, but let’s face it, that ship had sailed. Apparently, my heart was on my sleeve. Go ahead and call me an idiot. It couldn’t be worse than the names I’d already called myself, including fifty-seven kinds of stupid.

Somehow I managed to get through the class. I made sure everyone had someone to accompany them to their cars. For once, Mitchell wasn’t paying attention as he strolled off with the other two librarians, deep in conversation.

I straightened the room and walked out to the gallery. Derek wasn’t in the immediate vicinity so I checked the alcoves and the hallways, then wandered into Gunther’s classroom. It was empty. I could see lights on in the office wing so I ambled down the hall, thinking Derek might’ve struck up a conversation with one of the managers.

Naomi was the only one still around. She sat at her desk, pounding on a calculator and writing numbers on a sheet of paper. A single lamp illuminated the desk surface, leaving her face in shadow.

“Hi, Naomi,” I said.

Her hand jerked and the pencil slid across the page, leaving a dark mark. “Damn it.”

“Sorry to startle you,” I said.

She exhaled and I could see a frown appear on her face. “It’s okay. I thought everyone had left. Look, about the book,” she said, erasing the pencil smudge.

“Oh, we can talk about that later,” I said, glancing down the hall. I had bigger things on my mind than the Oliver Twist . “I’m looking for Derek Stone. I was supposed to meet him after my class.”