Page 87 of Beautiful Lies
I did the mental math. Connor’s mom would have already been pregnant with Keira when she’d left them.
“How old were they when she left?” Keira asked, reading my mind.
“It was right after Killian’s seventh birthday, in August. Connor was three and a half.”
Whatever she thought about that, her face gave nothing away. The bell over the door chimed and a guy with dirty-blond hair entered the shop. Deacon Ramsey. I hadn’t seen him since that night at the hospital over a year ago. Instead of wearing NYPD blues, he was dressed in a dark suit and wingtips. He belonged in a glossy magazine advertising cologne and expensive watches, but I had a bad feeling that his appearance wasn’t accidental.
“Good afternoon, ladies.” He gave us a panty-melting smile, fully aware of his charms and the effect they had on women. “How’ve you been, Ava?” he asked as if he genuinely cared.
“It’s all good,” I said, wondering if that was true. “How are you?”
“Can’t complain.” His gaze swung to Keira, his eyes doing a full-body scan without bothering to hide it.
“Let me guess,” Keira said, leaning her hip against the counter. “Victor called the cops.”
“Deacon Ramsey,” he said with a slow, easy grin. “What makes you think I’m a cop?”
“Grace Matthews. I have a sixth sense for these things.”
His mouth quirked with amusement. “Is that your Porsche, Grace?”
“Yes, Officer. Am I parked illegally?”
“I’ll need to see some ID.”
Unfazed by his request, Keira whipped a license out of her wallet and handed it to Deacon who studied it. Since I was right next to him, I glanced at it, wondering how her story would hold up. Sure enough, the license said Grace Matthews and the photo was of her. I wasn’t an expert, but the license looked like a good fake. “A North Carolina girl,” he said, handing back the license.
“Go Tar Heels,” Keira said, pumping the air with her fist.
“You went to Duke?” Deacon asked.
“UNC. Duke is the Blue Devils. Watch yourself, Officer. If you ever head south of the Mason Dixon line, talk like that could get you in trouble.”
Deacon grinned. “Thanks for the warning. Be right back.” He strode to the back of the shop and when he disappeared, I exchanged a look with Keira.
“You swear the jewelry is yours?” I asked, keeping my voice low. There were CCTV cameras all over the shop and I wondered if Deacon Ramsey was back there, studying them right now.
“Yep. It’s cool.”
“What about the license plates?”
“They’re clean.” She cleared her throat. “I think.”
That didn’t put me at ease or answer any of my questions, but I couldn’t probe for more information because Deacon and Victor had returned. Victor handed Keira an envelope and she glanced at the bills inside then stuffed it in her bag without bothering to count it. “A pleasure doing business with you,” she said, turning to go.
Deacon strode ahead and held the door open for us then followed us onto the sidewalk and to Keira’s car. “Just passing through?” he asked. “Or are you planning to stay awhile, Miss Mathers?”
“It’s Matthews,” Keira said.
Deacon grinned. “So, it is. I have a bad memory for names. But I never forget a face.”
“In answer to your question, I’ll be staying a while.”
“Good. I have a feeling we’ll be bumping into each other a lot.”
Keira smiled as she rounded the front of her car. “Not if I see you first.”
“Game on.”
