Web of Lies Read Free Page B

witnessed a shooting. Some poor young man is dead; we don’t know who he is yet. And a clerk at the 7Eleven was shot. He’s only eighteen.”
    Dave sucked in a breath. The oh-no-not-again worry crimped his face. He led me to his large leather armchair and eased me down. Sitting on the matching ottoman, he faced me. “Tell me everything.”
    I did.
    When I finished, he leaned forward, taking my hands in his. “Are you sure you’re all right? That would be an upsetting experience for anyone, but after all you’ve been through . . .”
    “I’m fine. Really.”
    Why shouldn’t I be fine? I’d had three months to recover. My family, along with Dave and Erin, had even gone to Hawaii and lolled on the beach for two weeks.
    Dave regarded me, clearly unconvinced. Sudden longing surged in me, and for a crazy moment I wanted to throw myself into his arms and cry. Wanted to tell him how weak I felt some days, and how much I’d begun to need him. And I wanted to hear that he accepted me, even if sometimes I still wondered if I accepted myself . . .
    Annie, stop it. I swallowed hard and forced a tiny smile.
    Dave inhaled slowly. He held my gaze, his eyes clouding with . . . what? Frustration? Disappointment? “You know I’m here for you. Please believe that. Don’t keep anything bottled up. It’s not healthy.”
    “Okay. Thank you.” How formal I sounded.
    When I left, he walked me to his front door and kissed me, long and gently.
    Heart flip-flopping, I descended his porch steps and headed across our double-wide street. The large log home Jenna and I had inherited from our father spread before me with gracious elegance. One of twenty-four homes in Grove Landing sky park, our house nestles at the end of Barrister Court and is edged in the back and one side by forest. Grove Landing is a dignified and quiet neighborhood — except for the noise of airplanes on the private runway, or taxiing into hangars built into the houses. Now, in the peaceful afternoon, a crow cawed from the woods on my right. The faint scent of newly cut grass wafted from a neighbor’s home. I slowed my steps, drinking in the sensations, inviting them to flow through me, quiet my spirit.
    God, why do I always hold back with Dave? Why can’t I just let him care for me?
    Jenna had left the garage door open for my return. I made sure to shut it. These days, our house was always closed up and locked tight.
    In the great room, I sank into the oversized couch facing the circular wooden staircase. The room stretches forty feet long, with a twenty-five-foot ceiling. Banisters run along the hallways of the upper floor on both sides, connected by a walkway toward the back of the great room that is supported by massive log posts. I looked up to my left, toward Kelly’s and my bedrooms — and a memory flashed in my brain. I stood
    at that banister, gun pointed down at the head of a strange man, hulking over my daughter as she lies on the couch . . .
    I shuddered. No. That was three months ago. This was now. We would not face such danger again.
    An hour later I heard the unique ring tone of my business line. I hurried from the kitchen toward my office, footsteps echoing over the great room’s hardwood floor.
    “Annie, it’s Tim Blanche.” He sounded pushed, irritated. “Bad news. The security camera at the 7-Eleven was broken. Turns out the owner knew it and was just about to have it fixed. Murphy’s Law and all that. We’re going to need you to draw a composite of the shooter.”
    My heart sank. I carried the receiver around my desk and sank into my chair. “From what I heard, none of the people in the store saw him clearly except for the boy who was shot.”
    “Right. Toby Brown. Looked right into the guy’s face.”
    What a terrifying second that must have been. “How is he?”
    “They’ve removed the bullet. He’s lucky it didn’t hit anything major. They’ve stabilized him, although there’s some problem with bleeding, so he’s staying in