A Necessary Lie by Lucy Farago (25)

“What do you think?” Grace said, curious to see if Cowboy agreed with her.

They’d returned to the hotel, changed clothes, and gone down for food but the restaurant was closed so they had a drink instead. Cowboy had been on and off the phone with Monty with nothing new to report. Either her father was still at the ranch, which wasn’t likely, or nothing had been made of the Stanton’s housekeeper taking a deadly nosedive down a flight of stairs. Which was also unlikely.

“I think you’re right. She was pushed.”

They’d gone over the various scenarios in the car. In a hurry to get the dress back to Grace, Lily had tripped and fallen. But there was a mirror in the laundry room. She hadn’t needed to go upstairs. Her skin color indicated she’d been dead for at least ten minutes. Why had none of the many guests seen her at the bottom of the stairs? It was possible no one had passed through the foyer, but wouldn’t someone have had heard her fall? Had her neck been broken and her body thrown down to make it look like an accident? Mrs. Stanton was allegedly passed out. It didn’t mean she’d remained that way. Why hadn’t Lily given the notebook to the police? With all these questions, Grace and Cowboy had drawn their own conclusions. Lily knew something. And she was killed because of it.

How better to throw off suspicion than to kill her in a house full of people? Everyone had gone outside to sing “Happy Birthday” to Ella, presenting the killer with a perfect opportunity. Cowboy had told Grace what he’d first suspected, that she’d been the intended victim. But she’d argued against that. Two reporters dead, both working on the same story—no, no one was that stupid. He’d reluctantly agreed.

“Do you think she knew who killed Jessie?” Why the hell hadn’t she thought to question her earlier?

“Maybe. Maybe she’s responsible and Lyle was cleaning house. Who knows.”

He’d pulled his phone out earlier, and when the text came through, together they looked at it.

“Why lock it up?” Grace asked. How valuable was the stupid thing?

Grace and Cowboy exchanged looks.

“He’s hiding it,” they said in unison.

Could they prove it was the car that hit Jessie?

The bartender headed in their direction as Cowboy retrieved the phone.

“Two a.m., folks. I’m leaving for the night, but you’re welcome to stay and finish your drinks.”

Cowboy fished out a bill and passed it to him with a thank you.

“Cars like that need special mechanics and that kind of damage would arouse suspicion,” Cowboy said to Grace.

“So he’s tucked it away until enough time has passed for him to repair it.”

“I think so.” He helped her off the stool. “Question is—who was driving the car?”

“One guess,” she said, following him out of the bar.

“You think it was Mrs. Stanton?”

“Don’t you?”

“It’s possible. She went to rehab a day ahead of schedule. The day Jessie disappeared. Could be she was freaked out. Gone on a little ride and hit her coming home. That ravine wasn’t far from the ranch. But the senator said he hid all the keys to the cars. Considering the damage her drinking was doing to his career, I’m leaning toward believing him.”

“But this wasn’t his car. It’s Lyle’s. I hate to say this, but we need to tell my father. He’ll be able to get a court order to open that barn.”

Cowboy nodded. “Make the call. Look, are you still hungry? There’s an all-night pizza place down the street.”

“I’m starving.”

“Same old?”

She smiled, liking that he knew what she wanted on her pizza. “Same old.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

“Can you do it? I should call my dad. Get the warrant rolling.”

“I don’t know, Grace.”

“Oh come on. I’ve never been in any real danger and I’m not leaving the building.” She was convinced the whole bodyguard thing was a ruse for her father to get ICU’s help.

“Okay, but I won’t be long. I’ll have them deliver it.”

“I can stay thirty minutes by myself.”

“Maybe I don’t want to stay thirty minutes without you. I did that tonight and I didn’t like it.” He leaned in and kissed her. “I didn’t like it one bit.”

“You were afraid something had happened to me. That’s all.” Wasn’t it?

“I was afraid,” he admitted. “But that wasn’t all.” He kissed her again.

The kiss was nice, what he’d said nicer. And she realized she agreed with him. She too didn’t like the idea of being separated from him. And it made her… uncomfortable. “If you hurry we can have dessert before the pizza.”

“Damn,” he said, kissing her again. “I like the way you think.”

She headed back to their room, knowing she was risking her heart. In all likelihood, once this was over he would leave. A man who didn’t want people to know his name didn’t develop ties. He’d told Mrs. Danielle he had a sister. With all that had happened, she’d forgotten to ask him about that. Why had he lied? He clearly had secrets. That should turn her off. Why didn’t it? Secrets destroyed people. Secrets had destroyed her parent’s marriage. Her mother might have claimed she left her father because she couldn’t handle his job, but she’d been the one having the affair. If Jessie had been open about knowing the Stantons, might things have turned out differently? Grace was positive that had she known the truth, Jessie wouldn’t have been in San Antonio writing a story she didn’t want to write.

So again, why did Cowboy’s secrets not bother her? The answer was there, waiting for her to acknowledge her foolishness. She was in love with the man. And it had nothing to do with great sex. And everything to do with the man himself. The real kicker was that he made her believe in what she’d thought was unattainable. Life didn’t gift you happy endings. So it was better to be prepared for the kick in the teeth because sooner or later that boot was headed for your face. With Cowboy the mouth guard was coming off. Would he be worth chancing it? The heart may want what it wanted, but she wanted a beach house on a South Carolina shore—didn’t mean she was going to get it.

She got off the elevator even more confused than when she’d gotten on. Perhaps it was better not to rationalize. Maybe the way to go was to simply let it happen and see where it took her. What the hell was she protecting herself from? Reaching the door, she pulled out her keycard and slid it into the lock. It wouldn’t open. She thought back and was unable to remember if she’d had it anywhere near her phone, causing it to deactivate. Damn. Now she had to go back to the lobby.

* * *

The pizza guy told him it would only take ten minutes and he should wait. He’d lied; the pizza had taken thirty-five minutes to cook. Thirty-five minutes of imagining Grace naked and in his bed. And as he pushed the elevator button, he was anxious to get upstairs and make it come true. He’d told himself he was not falling for her. But he was lying and he knew it.

His father had drilled him and his brothers on being respectful to women. And he had. He’d respected them enough to avoid loving any of them and been arrogant enough so they wouldn’t think they loved him. A time or two that tactic had failed. But sometimes women just wanted to save a man. It had taken some effort, but eventually he’d convince them he simply wasn’t worth saving. No matter how much he’d wanted someone in his life, he was careful not to fall for the women he dated. What he hadn’t expected was how simple it was to fall for Grace. Because none of them compared to Grace. The others had been easy to forget or move on from. His heart had remained firmly in his chest.

The elevator doors opened and he stepped inside, switching the hot pizza box to the other hand. What the hell was he doing? He’d seen the look on her face after he’d kissed her. He’d made her uncomfortable with all his talk of not liking being apart from her. But it had been true. He’d been scared to death when he hadn’t been able to find her, and when he had, the relief of knowing she was safe was like nothing he’d ever felt. It wasn’t just that he felt responsible for her. It was that he couldn’t imagine going back to the life he had without her. And in that, he was seriously fucked.

He got out on his floor, shaking his head at his own stupidity. Was he so desperate to not be alone that his mind had fabricated loving Grace? One thing was certain, she’d never forgive him if she found out he’d killed Edward. She would never understand why he and Jessie had concocted the story. She may have forgiven her best friend, but what was he to her? No, to Grace, he’d be another liar, someone who betrayed her trust by making her belief he was one of the good guys. He’d done that. In her books, there would be no going back because she was right, he wasn’t a good guy. He’d killed a man. Bastard or not, the man had died because of him.

He spotted a keycard on the floor by his hotel room door. He picked it with the intention of returning it to the front desk, then opened his door. “I hope you’re hungry,” he said, but didn’t mean for pizza. When he got no response, he checked the bedroom and then bathroom. “Grace?” She wasn’t here. He looked at the keycard in his hand and returned to the hall. Praying it didn’t work, he slid the card through the slider. The light went from red to green. This was Grace’s card.

He pulled out his cell and turned on the GPS he’d stuck in her purse. She’d left the hotel. On her own, or with help? “Fuck.” He was going to kill Stanton.