Page 19 of The Lie Maker

“They haven’t found him?”

She shook her head and tipped the glass back again. “Nope. Anyway, I’ve moved on to other stuff. They’ve got me covering this possible city workers’ strike. Contract talks have broken down.”

Lana moved in closer to me.

“You know,” she said, “there’s a silver lining to your car catching itself on fire.”

“And that is?”

“You don’t have to worry about where you parked it, for one thing. There’s no chance it’s going to get towed. And seeing as how you have no wheels, you don’t really have to worry about how much you have to drink.”

“There is that.”

Then Lana did something I’d rarely seen her do. She walked over to the muted television, which was, as always, tuned to an all-news station, and turned it off.

“Good God,” I said. “What is happening.”

As she walked back over to me, she said, “I am thinking that I would like to get a little drunk. And I would like to encourage you to join me in this venture.”

“Hold that thought,” I said.

I went to the fridge for another bottle of wine, found a chardonnay, and uncorked it. I topped up her glass. She had a drink and smiled.

I said, “Do you have any ambitions beyond the getting drunk part?”

By way of answering, she grabbed me by the top of my jeans, hooking her fingers into my pants behind the belt.

“I might,” she said.

We each took one more drink, then set our glasses on the island. As we slipped into each other’s arms she tipped her head back so that I could kiss her, which I did, with more than a little enthusiasm.

I thought about how lucky I was, despite recent setbacks, to have this woman in my life. And how I hoped nothing would come along to sabotage that. There were times when I wondered whether I should tell her all the things I’d kept from her up to now. And then I thought, If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

Lana started to unbuckle my belt.

The cell phone on the island began to ring. We stopped, froze, looked at the phone, and then looked at each other.

I said, “I should probably get that.”

Eleven

“Mom, Dad says he’s going to be gone for a long time.”

“Looks that way.”

“Why does he have to go away? Andy said he did some really bad things.”

“Who the hell is Andy?”

“He’s in my class.”

“Andy doesn’t know a damn thing, and you can tell him I said so.”

“He says Dad hurt people.”

“Jesus Christ, I can’t deal with your questions right now.”

“Can I go with him?”

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