Page 52 of The Liar

He was my partner. I couldn’t just run around doing my own thing all of the time. At some point, he was going to ask what I was hiding from him.

A knock came at the door.

I flinched, and my hand flew to my heart. I tucked both the photocopied diary and my notebook away in my bag, then drew in a slow, even breath, attempting to calm myself so that whoever was on the other side of the door wouldn’t notice. I grabbed the handle and turned it.

Hanson stood on the other side, wearing a bemused expression. “What are you doing in there?”

15

WEST

I passed a glass of whiskey to an off-duty detective and glanced at the pub door as it swung open. Joanna entered, and my heart skipped a beat, but then fell. She was pale—almost pasty—and drawn. Had her case taken a turn? Perhaps she’d discovered something in Sasha’s notes that had upset her.

She approached the bar, and I grabbed onto the edge of the wood, determined not to make her uncomfortable by reaching for her the way I wanted to.

“Can I get you a drink?” I asked her.

“Just water.” Her eyes were blank, absent any of the emotions I often saw flickering through them.

I filled her glass and handed it to her. “Want to talk? Bartenders are good at listening.”

She arched one elegant eyebrow. “Is that so?”

I shrugged. “At least, that’s what I’ve heard.”

She didn’t smile, but the tension around her mouth eased, so I counted that as a win.

“Can’t talk about it here,” she murmured.

I looked around. Dean was making drinks, but there wasno line, so he should be all right on his own for a few minutes.

“Out the back,” I said softly.

She nodded, gulped down her water, and pushed away from the bar. I met her at the end and led her through the Staff Only door and into Henry’s office. She shut the door.

“What’s up?” I asked.

She rubbed her temples. She looked so tired. I wished I could rub the knots out of her shoulders and make her feel better, but I wouldn’t touch her unless she wanted me to, and she was giving no impression of that at the moment.

“I’ve gotten through almost all of the diary.” She rested her ass on the edge of the desk and crossed her long legs at the ankles. “Including part that talks about the homicide detective, the one Portia mentioned.”

“The one you thought could be Hanson?” I whistled. “What did it say?”

She scowled. “That’s just it. There was nothing there that Portia hadn’t already told us, except that whoever he is, he was drunk when it happened. I’d just finished reading that part when Hanson interrupted. Gave me the fright of my life.”

I tensed. “He doesn’t know, does he?”

“No.” She shot me a look. “But I had to do some fast-talking to avoid answering his questions. I think he realizes that there’s more going on here than he knows about. I’m sure he’s going to start demanding answers soon.”

“Shit. We need to come up with a reasonable explanation for why you’d be keeping things from him.” I stuffed my hands into my pockets. Better they be there than where they really wanted to be. “Do you think there’s a chance he might be involved? Perhaps it wasn’t a coincidence that you guys got this case rather than Neal?”

The fact she didn’t react negatively right away made mewonder if she’d already been considering the possibility herself.

She nibbled on her lower lip, obviously conflicted. “If you’d have asked me a few days ago, I’d have said no. Hanson isn’t the most sensitive guy around, but I would never have expected him to be dirty. Now… I’m not sure.”

I moved closer to her so we could speak quietly. I doubted anyone was listening, but it was better to be safe than sorry. “If he is the detective Portia and Sasha mentioned, and he was drunk when he went to the brothel, it’s possible he did something out of character. But by the time he’d sobered up, it was too late. Ortez would have had all the blackmail material he needed.”

She grimaced. “I know, and I can imagine him going to the strip club and thinking it was harmless. He likes people seeing him as a real man’s man. But the brothel… He must have known that would be different. Deborah would never forgive that.”

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