Tell No Lies Read Free Page B

really here, Miz Aldridge?”
    Augusta blinked at him. The truth was that she didn’t know.
    She sat forward in her chair, uncertain how to answer. “I . . . I want to help . . . if I can,” she said and met his gaze directly, willing him to see her sincerity. “I suppose I feel guilty about the way my sister is harassing you.”
    He brought his glass of water to his lips. No beer—straight up H2O. “I’m a big boy,” he said. “I can take care of myself. What you need to worry about,” he added darkly, “is your sister . . . and yourself. You’re in over your head,” he told her.
    Augusta’s face flushed. It was the truth. Whether or not he was innocent or guilty, she was a danger to herself right now. She suddenly felt crowded and stifled and stood abruptly, not really certain if she meant to go.
    He peered up at her with a look of concern. “You alright?”
    “Yeah. I just need some air.”
    That moment sealed her fate.
    They shared a long look, one that said nothing and everything at once.
    “I’ll walk with you,” he offered. “We could both use a little breathing room.”
    Augusta set her beer down on the table, glad that she hadn’t ordered a second, pretending to herself that she still had her wits about her and her sensibilities intact.
    It was the second lie she’d told herself tonight. The first was that she didn’t know why she was here, because deep down, she knew exactly what she was doing.
    He followed her out back, where, even in the thick heat of summer, there was a serious crowd—some spillover from the performance inside, others who simply wanted an excuse to drink a bottled beer out on the beach and still others whose youths had been spent loitering around the volleyball nets that were strung outside the Windjammer and who couldn’t see their way through a summer without reliving a moment from their past. Although the façade had changed somewhat, the Windjammer was an Isle of Palms institution. She made her way toward the beach, wholly aware of the man who silently followed. She could barely hear his footfalls along the boardwalk.
    Augusta tried to clear her head.
    What made her so certain Ian wasn’t the killer everyone was trying to make him out to be? And why was she leading him onto a dark beach on a nearly moonless night? Her sisters would be out of their minds with worry if they had an inkling where she was and whom she was with. “You don’t have to come with me,” she offered belatedly, though she hoped he wouldn’t stop.
    “And miss the chance to find out what makes Augusta Aldridge tick? Fat chance,” he said, and chuckled low.
    They walked down the boardwalk, through the shifting dunes and down onto the beach, which stretched nearly to mid-pier with the tide at its lowest point. A slash of moonlight reflected on the wet sand. There was just enough light to see that there was no one else on the beach, despite the sounds of revelry that filtered over the dunes. Her heart beating fiercely, Augusta made a left toward the pier, where it was darker and a little more private. She wasn’t in control right now. Some primeval part of her brain took over. All she could think about was kissing Ian . . . for starters.
    He didn’t fail to note the direction she led him and laughed huskily. “You’re a real puzzle, Augusta.”
    Augusta reached down, plucking off her sandals as they reached the pier, flashing him a mischievous grin. She threw the shoes up toward the dunes on a drier stretch of beach and leaned back against one of the piles, lifting her chin.
    He stood a few feet away, reluctant to come to her, studying her, his gaze traveling the length of her despite his resolve not to flirt with her. “Feeling better, I take it?”
    Augusta nodded, her smile as flirty as she knew how.
    His blue eyes were pale, glittering dangerously under the moonlight. “You really enjoy playing with fire, don’t you?” he whispered hoarsely.
    Augusta’s gaze fell to the bulge in his