Laura Caldwell - Red Hot Lies

I nodded.

He filled a glass, didn’t ask about ice, and handed it to me. “So, how are you doing?”

“I’m going insane.”

He half grunted, half laughed. “I hear that. I’d probably be the same.”

“Did you find out anything about Sam, like where he might be in Panama?”

“Yeah.”

I put the glass of water down with a plunk. “Tell me.”

“Alec Thornton’s credit card was used to check out of a hotel in Panama City a few days ago.”

“What hotel?”

“The Decapolis. It’s a nice one. I’ve been working the phones, trying to figure out what ‘Alec’ did while he was there. I did find out he was a blond guy, Sam’s age, but the rest is a little tough because of the language barrier. Finally, I found some people who spoke English, though, and from what I could tell, he kept to himself, didn’t charge much at the hotel and then left.”

“Was he with anyone?”

Mayburn put a hand in his sandy-colored hair and rubbed it, like he was trying to shake something loose in his head. He said nothing, but looked at me, clearly thinking over his words.

“Tell me.” I moved forward, leaning toward him. “Please tell me and do not hold back, because I am sick of not knowing, and I don’t need to be coddled.”

He made a face. “Step back, my friend, I’m not coddling you.” He exhaled. “Fine, you want it straight, here it is. He had one charge at the bar. It was for four drinks, two were beers, two were wine.”

Sam didn’t usually drink wine. He was a beer guy. I bit my lip.

“I tracked down a bartender who was there that night,” Mayburn said. “And since you don’t want me to hold back, I’ll just tell you…”

He paused, and I felt the pain in my heart, even before he spoke.

“He was with a woman.”

“I gotta go.” I turned and began walking from Mayburn’s kitchen.

“Whoa, whoa.” He caught my arm. “Where are you going?”

“To get a flight to Panama. If Sam thinks he’s going to steal from my client and cheat on me, he doesn’t get to do it without hearing a few select words. Like ‘fuck you.’” My substitute phrase from my stop-swearing campaign had been “flub you,” but that simply wasn’t going to work.

And yet the news about Sam didn’t all seem real. It couldn’t be true. But clearly I had to stop tuning into that gut instinct that said, Sam is a good guy. There has to be a reason for all this.

“So you’re just going to go to Panama?” Mayburn asked.

“Yep.”

Mayburn gave me a skeptical look. “Been there before?”

“No.”

“Speak Spanish?”

“No.”

“Where you going to look for him?”

“The hotel.”

“Anyplace else?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

He pulled me gently by the arm, coaxing me back into the kitchen. “Let me do some more digging. We need to find out more before anybody starts booking a flight, okay?”

I groaned with frustration and confusion. I could feel despair clawing at the edges of my brain, wanting desperately to get in. I held it at bay, sensing that admitting it would let it overtake me.

He rubbed my arm in a kind but awkward way. “Hey, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“He’s a complete dumbass if he cheated on you, and who knows? Just because he was with a woman doesn’t mean he was cheating. Trust me-never jump to conclusions on a case until you have all-”

“I know-all the pieces. It’s all right. You don’t have to baby me. You’re the one who told me we’d probably find him with some girl.”

He picked up the water and handed it to me. “Don’t jump to conclusions.”

I took a gulp and tried to imagine that the water was dousing the fire of my combustible emotions.

“Plus,” Mayburn continued, “I need you, remember? You’ve got a playdate.”

I looked at the clock above his kitchen sink. “I’m supposed to pick up Kaitlyn from preschool. Assuming I do that, and don’t veer toward O’Hare, what do you need me to do when I get to DeSanto’s house?”

“Well, here’s the thing…” He leaned back on the counter, his elbows up. “I’m going to need you to hack into his computer.”

I started choking up water. “Excuse me? You said you wanted us to get inside. You implied you’d be somehow getting into the house while I was there, and you’d be doing the dirty work.”

“That’s the thing. I can’t figure out how to do it, even with you inside. The place is a fortress. It’s not a normal house where you can just try to unlock the front door for me. They have huge walls and gates.” He shook his head. “You’re going to have to do it. You’re not techtarded, are you?”

“I don’t even know what that means, but I’m about as techie as a Buddhist monk. I don’t even have a Facebook page.”

“Well, it’s not as much about being technical as it is about being smart and a good learner. And you’re both of those.” He clapped his hands together and rubbed them. “So let’s teach you how to hack.”

A few minutes after one o’clock, I was pushing the button on the DeSantos’ buzzer. Mayburn wasn’t kidding about it being a fortress. The place took up three city lots and was surrounded by spiked, stone walls. I knocked, thinking the door looked more suited for Buckingham Palace.

“Is this a jail?” Kaitlyn tugged at my hand.

“No, honey.”

“Why are we here, Izzy?”

It would have been easier if she called me Mommy, but I told Mayburn that a) getting Kaitlyn to do anything she didn’t want was impossible, and b) it would probably cause her to seek therapy later. Instead, we’d come up with a story that since I was her stepmother, she always called me Izzy.

“Hello?” I heard Lucy’s high voice come through the intercom.

“It’s Isabel and Kaitlyn.”

She buzzed us in and the door swung open without me even touching it.

“Pretty!” Kaitlyn said.

The house was shaped like a huge L. Facing the door we’d just opened and, in front of us, was a courtyard full of bushes, windy stone paths and Japanese maple trees, blazing red. I’d never seen anything like it in the city. Lucy, or her expensive florist, had decorated the courtyard for autumn with cornucopias, garlands and grapevine wreaths, making the place look magical.

Lucy and her two kids came out onto their front porch, waving. “Noah and Eve, say hi to Kaitlyn.”

Noah eyed Kaitlyn, then offered her a book he held in his hand. Kaitlyn trotted up the stairs, snatched it and dashed behind him into the house. Noah looked up at Lucy, who nodded and laughed, then he disappeared after Kaitlyn.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “We’re trying to get her not to be so grabby.”

Lucy laughed again and shrugged. “They’re kids. Kids do that. It’s good to see you.”

As I reached the top steps, she stepped forward and hugged me. I was sort of surprised at first, but then I returned it, and it was one of those hugs that makes everything in the world feel better.

“It’s great to see you, too,” I said, meaning it. “Your house is stunning.”

“Oh, thank you! C’mon in. I’ll show you around.” With her daughter, Eve, holding her hand, Lucy led me around the house. Even though their furniture was predominantly dark wood, the home was filled with light coming in from the courtyard. The rooms were decorated in blue silks and gold accents. Lucy pointed out a blue rug they’d bought on their honeymoon in Portugal and yellow vases they’d brought back from a trip to China.

“And here’s Michael’s lair.” Lucy waved her hand at an office as we passed by it. Unlike the rest of the house, the office was gloomy, the furniture heavy, the charcoal drapes only barely pulled back. On his desk was a brown leather blotter and on top of that, a black laptop, its cover closed. I felt a lick of apprehension up my back.