Page 3 of The Fragile Truth

“The whole truth,” he countered.

No, she couldn’t tell Ian everything. That would mean giving away her leverage, and she wasn’t about to do that. It was clear that Ian Russell was now beyond her reach. Therefore, she had no further use for him. “It’s time for you to leave.”

He gave her a long look. “Brent was a good deputy. He had his whole life ahead of him. He didn’t deserve to die.”

She rolled her eyes as she swished her hand. “How many times do I have to tell you that I had nothing to do with Brent’s death?”

“After you received the threatening text, you said you called Brent for help.”

“Yes.” She wondered where he was going with this. Was he trying to trip her up somehow? She needed to be on hyper-alert.

He steeled his jaw. “Why did you call Brent?”

She bunched her brows. “What kind of lame-brain question is that? He was the deputy over the island. That’s why I called him.”

He kept his penetrating gaze fixed on her. She’d forgotten how forceful Ian could be. “Why didn’t you call me?”

Laughter rose in her throat. Her words rushed out in hard balls that clicked against her tongue. “Um, let me guess.” She cocked her head, feigning thinking. “Maybe because I knew you were ticked at me for breaking up with you?” That sounded plausible.

“I’m not buying it. You and Brent had some sort of understanding. Did you have a relationship with him too?”

She felt her eyes widen. Her voice shot up an octave. “What kind of person do you take me for?” As if she would stoop low enough to get involved with a nobody like Brent.

He didn’t skip a beat. “One who’ll stop at nothing to get what she wants. Did you sleep with him?” he pressed.

“Not hardly,” she scoffed. “Brent was a peon.”

“That you took advantage of.”

She clutched her hand, her fingernails digging into her flesh. “You know what? I don’t have to take this. Get out!” she pointed toward the door. “If you’ve got anything else to say to me, you can say it to my attorney.” The nerve of him coming in here and treating her like dirt!

His eyes were balls of ice as they locked with hers. “The only sliver of satisfaction that I can find in this situation is knowing that you’re about to be put away for a long time, where you can never hurt anyone again.”

Tears clouded her vision. “Get out!” she screamed.

He stood and strode to the door. He opened it and went out, closing the door behind him, not looking back.

Hot, black lava spewed inside Lina before it erupted, choking her throat with a guttural sob. A second later, she was weeping in ragged gasps. She was a pathetic trapped animal.

She didn’t know how long she sat there before another knock sounded on the door. Letting loose a string of curse words, she jumped up and practically ran to the door. She threw it open and began hurling insults, calling Ian every filthy word she could think of. Then, her vision cleared, and she saw the shocked face of a teenage boy holding a pizza box. She blinked several times. “I thought you were someone else.”

He thrust the box at her and fled.

“Wait!” she called. “I didn’t order this.” But the kid was almost to his car.

She stepped back inside and opened the box, the aroma of the pizza invading her nostrils. Lina couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten carbs or cheese or pepperoni. The kid hadn’t asked for payment. Did someone send her the pizza? She was about to toss it into the trash but then saw the edge of a neon yellow piece of paper sticking out beyond one of the slices. Forgetting her anger, she carried the pizza box to the nearby table, put it down, and lifted the slice.

The yellow paper was a sticky note. A message was written in block letters with black ink.

Go outside on your back patio. Midnight tonight. Let’s talk escape.

Her brain whirled. Escape? She looked at the note. Was it written by her benefactor? Could she trust this person? Chills slithered down her spine. Maybe this note was written by the person who’d tried to blackmail her. The one who shot and killed Brent. Was the person coming back to finish the job? She glanced at the landline attached to the wall in the kitchen. Fearing the line might be tapped, Lina hadn’t made any calls except to her attorney. Maybe she should call Ellis Rutherford and get his take on the situation.

No. Bad idea. What if this person was willing to help her escape? Calling Ellis could ruin everything. A tendril of hope sprouted in her breast, dispelling the heavy clouds of gloom closing in around her. The next second, her thoughts seesawed back down. She had no idea what to do.

She pulled out a chair and slumped down, staring into the distance as she drummed her fingers on the table. Finally, she reached a decision. At midnight, she would meet the person behind the note. It would either lead to her demise or her redemption.

Anything was better than sitting in this decrepit apartment, waiting for a trial that was sure to imprison her.

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