Page 11 of Dangerous Lies

Jax stared, stunned by his father’s callousness. He understood his anger, but vigilante justice wasn’t the answer. “Attacking Megan is a crime. Whoever is responsible for this will be caught and prosecuted.”

His dad grew redder. “I can’t believe you’re defending her.”

“I’m not defending her. I’m standing up for what’s right.”

“What’s right?” Greg rose from his seat. “Is it right that I had to bury my son? Is it right that she caused the accident that killed him and gets to go on living the rest of her life without being punished?”

Getting this worked up was bad for his dad’s weak heart. Jax held up his hands in the classic sign of surrender, hoping to calm his father’s anger. “Of course not. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to upset you?—”

“You’ve disappointed me. That’s what you’ve done.” Greg jabbed a finger at him. “You promised to look into the accident, to get justice for your brother, but you haven’t done anything.”

Valentina stepped between them. “That’s enough, Greg.” Her tone brooked no argument. The only time their mother ever stood up to their father was in defense of her children. “Jax isn’t to blame here. He’s trying to help Wesley.”

“He has a strange way of doing it.”

Greg turned and stormed out, slamming the back door behind him so hard that the dishes in the cupboards rattled.

Valentina winced and then turned her sympathetic gaze toward Jax. She placed her thin hands on his shoulders and kissed the top of his head. “I’m sorry,mi amor. He’s angry and doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

Guilt mingled with worry in a toxic swirl, eating away at Jax’s stomach. His dad’s accusations weren’t true. He’d spent hundreds of hours poring over the case file. No one wanted Oliver’s killer brought to justice more than Jax did, but he couldn’t manufacture evidence out of thin air.

He told himself it didn’t matter. The relationship with his dad had always been a complicated one, filled with responsibility and expectations, but that didn’t stop the deep hurt in his heart. The way his father had looked at him… like he was a disappointment. It mirrored everything Jax thought of himself.

He’d failed Oliver. Jax had been in college, determined to live his own life, when his younger brother began floundering. The drugs… the recklessness… the lies and the secrets… perhaps all of it could have been prevented if Jax had prioritized his family over himself. Instead, he’d been selfish, and it had cost him dearly.

He wouldn’t make the same mistake.

Jax rose from the chair and kissed his mother’s cheek. “Please tell me if you hear from Wesley.”

Valentina nodded, but concern clouded her features. She held onto his arm. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to prove Wesley didn’t do this.”

SEVEN

A stiff wind whipped through Megan’s hair as she hit the fob to lock her grandfather’s Cadillac. Her vehicle was still being held as evidence, although Chief Garcia hoped to have it back to her within the week. The parking lot attached to Clearview Counseling was packed. Mondays were always busy. Megan could have taken more time off from work, but she’d spent the weekend sequestered in her house and was on the verge of going stir-crazy. Sitting around gave her far too much time to think. Nana had tried distracting her with Hallmark movies, but they hadn’t kept Megan’s mind from turning over the attack again and again.

Chief Garcia had increased patrols in her neighborhood over the weekend and, so far, everything had remained quiet. Wesley was still missing though. Megan had spent far too many hours turning over his potential involvement in her mind. She couldn’t sit around anymore and think about things that weren’t within her control. She needed to feel useful. To serve others. Going to work was the best medicine.

But first caffeine.

The rich scent of coffee hung in the crisp air. Megan hauled her laptop bag over her shoulder and hurried across the parking lot to Roasted Beans. The bright yellow awning was a spot of cheer against the heavy cast of clouds in the sky. A sign on the sidewalk announced the daily special: a cinnamon roll and a latte.

Bells over the door announced her arrival. Several tables were occupied, and the hum of conversation filled the space. A barista behind the counter glanced up but remained focused on filling orders. “Welcome in. What can I get you?”

Megan scanned the glass display case, where cinnamon rolls dripped with luscious icing. Her mouth watered. “I’ll have the daily special,” she said, using the wallet app on her phone to pay. Then she moved to join a small group of people waiting for their orders at the other end of the counter.

It didn’t take long for the whispers to start.

A woman standing near the pastry case leaned toward her companion, speaking in a low voice but loud enough for Megan to catch snippets. “That’s her… the girl who was mixed up in that accident years ago. You know, Oliver Taylor…”

Her companion cast a glance in Megan’s direction, then glanced away. “Didn’t she?—?”

“Yeah. And now she’s involved in some kind of trouble again. She was attacked Friday night.”

Megan’s cheeks burned, and she tried to focus on the cheerful chalkboard menu above the counter, willing herself to ignore the stares and whispers. She knew this would happen—Knoxville was small enough that word traveled fast, but big enough that not everyone knew her personally. That didn’t stop them from speculating.

Behind her, someone muttered, “She should’ve stayed gone. Troublemaker.”

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