Page 40 of The Liar

“Not beyond the fact she suspects Helena Ortez is responsible. She was reluctant to say much when we spoke. She’d only just found the body and was struggling to hold it together. She might be able to offer more insight now.” I debated whether to continue but decided I had little to lose. “She may be more comfortable speaking to a woman.”

Joanna scoffed. “Me?”

I shrugged. “Who better? It’s your case, and it would be better if this could stay off the official record, so it doesn’t interfere with our operation.”

Her nostrils flared. “Let me get this straight. You want me to interview the woman who inadvertently broke our sham of a marriage and then ignore protocol to protect my lying fake husband while I’m at it?”

“Um…” There was definitely a right and wrong answer here, but unfortunately, it wasn’t one of the times I could afford to soothe her pride. “Yes. Pretty much.”

Her laser-focused glare could slice through steel like butter. She didn’t want to, that much was clear. I yearned to take her hand, but I couldn’t be sure whether she’d accept the offer or punch me for it.

“There’s never been anything sexual or romantic between Portia and me,” I assured her. “I’m a physical person, you know that. Holding her hand was about supporting her while she went through something traumatic. Nothing more.”

She deflated. “It’s just hard to get that image out of my mind.”

“I know, and I’m sorry for that, but I’ve only had eyes for you since the day we met.” Goddamn her stubbornness—even if I understood the reason for it. I wanted to gather her against my chest so badly it almost hurt, and whether she’d admit it or not, she could use the comfort too. “No one else can rival your quick wit, or the softness you hide from everyone other than me.”

Her jaw firmed, and she swallowed. “Fine. If you’re willing to introduce us, then I’ll talk to her, but I can’t promise it will achieve anything. You’ve taken the time to earn her trust. I don’t know why she’d share something with me but not you.”

The pressure in my chest eased. “Thank you.”

She squared her shoulders and straightened her back, as if preparing to walk into battle. “Let’s do it, then.”

I hadn’t expected that. “Now?”

She met my eye. “No reason to delay, right?”

11

JOANNA

I followed West to his car, a yawning pit of dread in my gut. Regardless of what he’d said about not being involved with Portia, I couldn’t help remembering how beautiful the other woman was, and how gently West had clasped her hand. I did my best not to let my unease show on my face, although I was certain West sensed it.

He knew me too well.

It wasn’t fair, when I hardly knew him at all.

West popped the locks on his car, and I got in the passenger side. As usual, the interior of the vehicle was impeccably clean. For the first time, I wondered whether that was because he didn’t want to risk me coming upon any of his work stuff rather than out of a personal preference for tidiness.

He stood outside and made a call. I didn’t eavesdrop. When he got in, he turned to me.

“She’s free now. She’ll meet us at a coffee shop near her apartment.”

I intertwined my fingers on my lap. “Thanks for setting that up.”

“No problem.” He slotted the key in the ignition, turned it, and reversed out of the parking space.

“How long has Portia been one of your informants?” I asked as he drove.

“A little over five months,” he replied, glancing across at me before focusing on the road.

Huh. So she’d known my not-husband for longer than I had.

“You said she and Sasha Sloane were best friends. Did they meet at the Red Letter?”

His fingers tightened on the wheel as he veered around a corner. “My understanding is that they auditioned there together. They were friends from high school, although both dropped out before their senior year.”

I hummed thoughtfully. “And yet Sasha became the mistress of a mob boss, with an expensive apartment and nice things, while Portia has to work at a brothel to make ends meet. I wonder if that caused any resentment.”

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