Page 67 of The Liar

I ended the call, quickly removed the sim card from the phone and snapped it.

Joanna stepped inside and immediately narrowed her eyes. If she’d been a cat, her tail would have been swishing. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing.” I discreetly slid the broken sim card into my pocket. “Cooking dinner.”

“Which is it?” she asked, shutting the door. Nothing, or cooking?”

“You’ll regret making fun of me if I don’t let you eat any risotto,” I teased.

She laughed. “Please don’t. It smells great.”

“I suppose I’ll let you have some. It’ll be ready in a few minutes. Would you like a glass of wine?”

She considered for a moment, then shook her head. “I’d better not yet.”

Something in her tone was off.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I’m going to change, and then we can talk.” She stalked past me and out of sight.

To distract myself from worry, I sliced crusty bread and placed a slice on each of two plates, then checked the risotto and, satisfied it was done, turned off the stove and scooped the delicious creamy meal alongside the bread.

I carried the plates to the table and poured a glass of water for each of us, then gathered cutlery and waited for her to return. When she did, she came straight to the table and sat.

She inhaled, a smile on her lips. “Mm. I love your beetroot risotto.”

My gut heated as my libido mistook her interest in dinner for something else. Determined not to let her notice my reaction, I enjoyed my first mouthful of risotto, silently congratulating myself on getting it just right. Of course, Mamma could do it better, but it was still excellent.

“Hanson suspects you,” Joanna said.

The creamy rice turned to ash in my mouth.

“Excuse me?”

She nodded, yet to start eating herself. “He presented me with evidence that you aren’t who you say you are and warned me to be wary of you. Obviously, I didn’t tell him the truth, but if he mentions his concerns to others, it could be bad for your investigation.”

“It could be lethal, if he mentioned something to the wrong person.” We still didn’t know exactly who was involved. The chances were that Hanson had already alerted someone that he’d been digging into my cover. He wasn’t the most subtle guy. “Do you trust him?”

With long fingers, Joanna began shredding her slice of bread, breaking it into smaller and smaller pieces. “I’d like to. He accused me of being in on your activities when I wasn’t as surprised as I should have been about your alter ego, and I doubt a dirty cop would do that, but I’m not certain. I wouldn’t stake your life on it.”

“I’m guessing you have thoughts about what we should do.”

She wasn’t the type to raise a problem without having at least idly considered potential solutions.

She dunked a piece of bread into the risotto and popped it into her mouth. “Have you thought about reading Thackery into the operation?”

“We can’t.” The denial burst from my lips automatically.

She frowned, taken aback. “Why not?”

“I don’t know.” I wished I had a concrete answer for her. “Something about him just doesn’t sit right with me.”

“Thackery pushes people’s boundaries, and he may be more of a politician than I’d like, but he’s always been a solid cop,” she protested.

I forced myself to eat another spoonful of risotto and mull over my response before speaking. I had to keep in mind the fact that she’d worked under Thackery for years and believed him to be an upright policeman, whereas she’d known me for less than six months and I’d proven myself a liar.

“It’s not always the bad cops that turn,” I said mildly. “It wouldn’t be much use to crime bosses if their pet policemen were useless at their jobs.”

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