White Lies Read online

  AFTER LEAVING LUCAS, Jay simply drove, automatically following the highway signs picked out by the headlight beams, and eventually wound up on U.S. 24, the highway that they had taken to Colorado Springs. She turned in the opposite direction. She didn’t pay any attention to the time; she just kept driving. U.S. 24 took her through Leadville, and finally she connected with I-70. She took a right, toward Denver.

  The sun came up, shining right into her eyes. She was nearly out of gas. She got off at the next exit and had the tank filled.

  It would be over by now.

  Exhaustion pulled at her, but she couldn’t stop. If she ever stopped, she would have to think, and right now she couldn’t bear it. She checked her money. She didn’t have much—a little over sixty dollars—but she had her credit cards. That would get her back to New York, to the only home she had left, the only refuge.

  I-70 went straight to Stapleton International Airport in Denver. Jay parked the Jeep and entered the terminal, carefully noting where she had parked so she could tell Frank where to retrieve his vehicle. She bought her ticket first, and was lucky enough to get on a flight leaving within the hour. Then she found a pay phone and called Frank.

  He answered in the middle of the first ring. “Frank, it’s Jay.” She identified herself in a numb monotone. “Is it over?”

  “Where the hell are you?” he screamed.

  “Denver.”

  “Denver! What are you doing there? You were supposed to call me hours ago! Luke is tearing the damned place up, and we have every cop in Colorado prowling the highways looking for you.”

  Her heart lightened, the terrible dread lifting from it. “He’s all right? He isn’t hurt?”

  “He’s fine. He took a little nick on the arm, but nothing a Band-Aid won’t cover. Look, exactly where are you? I’ll have you picked up—”

  “Is it over?” she asked insistently. “Is it really over?”

  “Piggot? Yeah, it’s over. Luke got him. Tell me where you are and—”

  “I’m glad.” Her legs wouldn’t support her much longer; she sagged against the wall. “Take…take care of him.”

  “My God, don’t hang up!” Frank yelled, the words shrieking in her ear. “Where are you?”

  “Don’t worry,” she managed to say. “I can get home by myself.” Totally forgetting the Jeep, she hung up the phone, then went into the ladies’ rest room and splashed cold water on her face. As she pulled a brush through her hair she noticed the pallor of her cheeks and the dark circles under her eyes. “You guys sure know how to show a lady a good time,” she murmured to her reflection, drawing several startled glances her way.

  Yogi Berra had said, “It ain’t over till it’s over,” but this was very definitely over. Jay couldn’t sleep on the flight, despite the utter exhaustion weighing down her body. Nor could she eat, though her stomach was empty. She managed to drink a cola, but nothing more.

  After the solitude of the meadow, New York’s J.F.K. airport was bedlam. She wanted to shrink against a wall and scream at all the scurrying people to go away. Instead she got on a bus, and an hour and a half later she let herself into her apartment.

  She hadn’t seen it in months; it was no longer home. It had been well taken care of in her absence, as Frank had promised, but it was as empty as she was. She didn’t even have any clothes with her. She laughed hollowly; clothes were the least of her worries. Frank would make certain they were shipped to her.

  But there were sheets to go on the bed, and towels for the bathroom. She took a warm shower, then even summoned the strength to make up the bed. The afternoon sun was going down as she stretched out naked between the clean sheets. Automatically she turned, searching for Lucas’s warmth, but he wasn’t there. It was over, and he didn’t want her. Acid tears stung her eyes as her heavy eyelids closed, and then she slept.

  “JANET JEAN. Janet Jean, wake up.”

  The intruding voice pulled her toward consciousness. She didn’t want to wake up. So long as she slept, she didn’t have to face life without Lucas. But it sounded like his voice, and she frowned.

  “Janet Jean. Jay. Wake up, baby.” A hard, warm hand shook her bare shoulder.

  Slowly she opened her eyes. It was Lucas, sitting on the edge of her bed, scowling at her. Those yellow eyes looked almost murderous, though his tone had been as gentle as his ruined voice would allow. He looked like hell; he badly needed a shave, his hair was uncombed, and a bloodstained bandage was wrapped around his left forearm. But at least he had on a shirt now, and his clothes were clean.

  “I know I locked the door.” Sleep still muddled her mind, but she knew she’d locked the door. In New York, one wasn’t careless about locking the door.

  He shrugged. “Big deal. Come on, sweetheart, go to the bathroom and splash some cold water on your face so you can focus your eyes. I’ll make coffee.”

  What was he doing here? She couldn’t think of any reason, and though part of her rejoiced at seeing him, no matter why, another part of her cringed at having to say goodbye to him again. She might not be able to stand it this time. At least before, she had been numb.

  “What time is it?”

  “Almost nine.”

  “It can’t be. It’s still daylight.”

  “Nine in the morning,” he explained patiently. “Come on, get up.” He lifted her to a sitting position, and the covers fell to her waist, exposing her bare body. Quickly Jay grabbed the sheet and pulled it over her breasts; she couldn’t meet his eyes as a flush chased the pallor from her face.

  His face was expressionless as he got to his feet and unbuttoned his shirt. “Here, put this on. I packed your clothes and brought them with me, but they’re all tumbled together in the suitcases.”

  She took his shirt, still warm from his body, and pulled it around her. Without another word she got up and went into the bathroom, firmly closing the door behind her. She started to lock it, but decided not to waste her time. Locks weren’t much good against him.

  Five minutes later she felt much more alert, having followed his advice and splashed cold water on her face. She was very thirsty, after having gone so long without anything to drink, so she drank several cups of water. She would have felt more secure if she’d had on something more than just his shirt, but it almost swallowed her. His scent was on the fabric. She lifted it to her face and inhaled deeply, then let it drop and left the security of the bathroom.

  He was lying on the bed. She stopped in her tracks. “I thought you were going to make coffee.”

  “You don’t have any.” He got to his feet, put his hands on her shoulders and shook her. “Damn you,” he said in a shaking voice. “I went through hell when I found out you hadn’t called Frank. Why did you run? Why did you come back here?”

  Her hair had fallen over her face. “I didn’t have anyplace else to go,” she said, and her voice cracked.

  He yanked her into his arms, reaching up behind her back to lock his fist in her hair and hold her head back. “Did you really think I’d let you get away from me that easily?” he all but snarled.

  “Was what I did so bad?” she pleaded. “I didn’t know any other way to protect you! When I saw your eyes, I knew you had to be the agent Frank had told me had been killed, and I knew he’d gone to an awful lot of trouble to hide you, so you had to be in danger. You had amnesia. You didn’t even know who was after you! Keeping the lie going was the only way I had of keeping you safe!”

  The yellowish eyes glittered. “Why should you care?”

  “Because I was in love with you! Or did you think that was a lie, too?”

  His touch gentled. “No,” he said quietly. “I think I’ve always known you loved me, right from the start.”

  Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. “The first time I touched you,” she whispered, “I felt how warm you were, and how hard you were fighting to stay alive. I started loving you then.”

  “Then why did you run?”

  He was relentless, but then, she