Deadly Lies Page 10

  The intensity of the storm made it seem much later than it was. Through the gloom, she took the turn off to Fallen Leaf Lake Road. She was driving a little too fast, and her tires slid on the compacted snow. Easing her foot off the accelerator, she slowed down even more. It hurt to breathe. The smell of snow filled her nostrils, and she tried to shake the sense of foreboding that had settled in as she skirted the edge of the lake. The force of memory was too strong, stubbornly pulling her back to the day her life had changed.

  Like it was yesterday, she could hear the car radio blasting Creedence Clearwater Revival’s “Green River” as she sat in the backseat of the Volvo station wagon. Her stepfather, Master Sergeant Sam Morris, was taking the family on a ski vacation at a resort deep in the Cascade Mountains. Her brother, Derek, was four years her junior. And at eight years of age, he was so excited about his first ski trip that he had barely stopped talking since they climbed into the car. It was hard to ignore Derek, and she had to admit that his enthusiasm was infectious.

  Sam was on a mission to teach his only son how to ski, and Jill felt grateful to be included. The initial plan was to have a father-and-son getaway, but at the last minute Jill’s mother convinced him that they all should go. How she wished her mother had failed. How different everything would have been.

  Her stepfather seemed in an unusually good mood that day, despite the heavy snow and slick driving conditions. Jill looked on as his big paw left the steering wheel to cover her mother’s hand in a rare gesture of affection. He turned to say something to her, his head angling toward hers with a smile. Jill could remember the sound of the windshield wipers swishing back and forth on the wet glass as the song ended. The pause between songs was filled with the soft chuckle of her mother’s laugh.

  The shrill, terrifying blast from a horn came next. Jill started, and dropped her Nancy Drew book. She saw the tractor trailer jackknife on the snow-encrusted road. Time slowed into single frozen frames in her memory as her stepfather stomped hard on the brakes. Both hands closed around the steering wheel in a death grip that turned his knuckles white. The car spiraled into a deadly spin. Snow everywhere. Utter darkness.

  Jill blinked hard, clearing the memory. She forced herself to focus on the narrowing road ahead of her. She muttered a soft but emphatic curse as the road reduced to single-lane traffic. This was why Jamie kept an old four-by-four at the cabin, she thought as she passed a sign notifying drivers that the road was not plowed in the winter. She swore again. There were fewer cabins on this end of the road. Large boulders jutted out of the snow as she passed.

  The swish of the windshield wipers across the glass filled her head, and as if by reflex, her hands tightened on the steering wheel. Almost there, she assured herself. There was no turning back. Seeing Jamie was the only way she could think of to regain control and neutralize the threat he posed to her career and her marriage.

  Jill pulled the rented SUV up to Jamie’s A-frame cabin. The glow from her headlights barely penetrated the curtain of falling snow. Switching off the engine, she leaned back in the leather seat, drinking in the silence. Jill tried to think of the best way to begin what would no doubt be a difficult conversation. Jamie didn’t like surprises, but as the seconds ticked by, nothing came to mind. His recent promotion made it too risky to try to outmaneuver him. Her only chance was to extend the olive branch and make peace, at all costs.

  Her boots crunched on the snow as she walked toward the cabin, which was nestled among a thick stand of evergreen trees pressed up against a hillside. The nearest neighbor was easily a quarter of a mile down the road. It was the perfect place for a getaway if you wanted to get away from everything. She shuddered to think what it must have cost. But then for Jamie, there wasn’t much that was out of reach.

  Smoke rose from the chimney, twisting like a gray gnarled finger reaching into the overcast sky. She climbed the wooden stairs and stopped in front of the cabin’s door. Her throat felt tight, and she swallowed hard as she looked skyward with a sense of apprehension. The last thing she wanted was to get stranded out here in the storm. Without giving herself a chance to turn around, she knocked.

  After what seemed like an eternity, Jamie answered the door. The shock registering on his face turned quickly to disdain. His gaze was even colder than the frigid wind blasting through her flimsy jacket.

  “Christ, Jill. What in the bloody hell are you doing here?”

  The snowflakes stung her hot cheeks as she looked up at him, her mouth suddenly dry. “We have to talk.”

  “Talk? What could we possibly have to talk about? Didn’t we say everything necessary last week?”

  Jill did her best to ignore the indignant expression on his face. She brushed past him into the warm interior of the cabin. Vaulted ceilings gave the impression that the room was much larger than it was. The kitchen was off to one side. The back of the house was a wall of glass, opening up onto a large deck surrounded by trees. In the center of the room, an open laptop sat on the coffee table across from a rustic leather couch. He had been working.

  “I need to talk to you.” Stripping off her gloves, she placed them on the kitchen table.

  “I have two words for you: business hours. It’s completely inappropriate for you to interrupt me here.” He crossed his arms and glared at her. She unflinchingly met his gaze, holding his icy stare.

  “Maybe so, but there’s a lot left to be said, some of which it would be better to say in private.”

  His jaw clenched for a moment as she saw him struggle to control his rising temper.

  “Don’t you get it? Are you really that dense? Do you need me to say it?” He shook his head in mock wonder. “Whatever we had between us is over, Jillian. Over. Do you get it now? How much more plain do I need to be?”

  Turning away, he stalked toward the fireplace and placed his hands on the mantel, staring down into the flames.

  “That’s not why I’m here,” Jill said, stepping forward. Her hands clenched into fists as she continued. “I think it’s shitty how you ended things, but that’s how it goes. I’m here because I wanted to see if we could find a way to put the past behind us. Move on.”

  His stare was flat, and she pushed the creeping doubts aside as she continued. “Getting involved was a crazy thing to do. We both showed poor judgment.”

  “So?” Jamie blinked at her, as if not grasping her meaning.

  “So, can’t we forget about the affair and just focus on business?”

  The stern look on Jamie’s face shifted to reflect pure incredulity.

  “You threaten me with a sexual-harassment lawsuit, and you think that you can make it all go away? How bloody delusional are you? I take it that my promotion has been announced and has finally clued you in to the desperate circumstances in which you find yourself.”

  “I saw the announcement, but—”

  “But what? You were hoping that I would somehow forget?”

  Jill shifted, placing her hands on her hips as she stared at him. The face she once thought of as handsome now contorted into a cruel smile. She could feel her cheeks burn as the enormity of his words sunk in.

  “Come on, Jamie. It doesn’t have to end like this. We’re both adults. Be reasonable.”

  “Reasonable?” He jabbed a finger toward her. “You’re a pretty serious liability. No one threatens me and gets away with it, Jillian. You should have known the stakes in the game you were playing.”

  Placing his hands on his hips, he regarded her for a long moment. “I was in the middle of cooking lunch when you came by. You’ll understand if I don’t invite you to join me.”

  Without another word, he elbowed his way past her and exited through the open French doors to the deck. Jill stood rooted to the spot. Her head swam. She felt like she was under water and fighting her way to the surface. Nothing she could say would make any difference. He was done with her and was going to find a way to get rid of her, the sooner the better.

  At length, she followed him out to the s
now-covered deck and stood watching as he placed a salmon filet on a plate and turned off the grill. The smell should have awakened her appetite. She had not eaten all day. Instead, her stomach turned.

  Tears burned her eyes, and she bit her lip hard, struggling to regain her composure. Was this really how he was going to end things? By dumping her? Ruining her? Destroying her marriage? How could it be this easy for him? She would not, could not, give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

  “Isn’t there some way to make this better?” she asked, fighting to keep her voice steady.

  “Poor little Jillian, you really don’t like to lose, do you?” The words hung between them in the frigid afternoon air. “Still trying to squeeze out some pitifully small victory from this pathetic situation?”

  She stood tall, squaring her shoulders as she drew in a deep breath.

  Round three.

  “Actually, Jamie, I won’t lose this time.” Her voice projected a confidence she didn’t quite feel.

  “Really? How do you figure?” He set the plate down beside the barbecue and leaned back against the railing of the deck, his venomous gaze fixed on her.

  “Okay, let’s look at this objectively. You took on a high-profile project and put it at risk. How am I supposed to feel good about your leadership capabilities?” He tilted his head as he looked at her, a crooked smile twisting his lips. “I’m afraid you’re falling short of expectations.”

  Jill clenched her fists hard, struggling to keep her voice even. “That’s it? My career at ZyraNet is finished?”

  He nodded, his smile thin.

  “If you’re smart, you’ll resign and quietly fuck off.”

  Jill’s mouth worked, but no sounds came out. Several moments passed before she found her voice.

  “I’ve worked my ass off, and this is how you repay me?”

  “Did you really think I would allow you to continue after what you’ve done? Are you daft? If you had just let it go, you might have stood a chance. Instead, you’ve threatened me with sexual harassment, followed me out here. How could I possibly trust you? Really, Jill, you had to know this is how it would end.”

  Jill drew in a shaky breath, trying to absorb the import of his words. In a tremulous voice, she continued.

  “Didn’t I mean anything to you?”

  A smirk twisted his lips as he studied her.

  “Sure. Just another perk of the position.”

  Jill gasped, like she’d been punched in the stomach. A swell of rage broke over her, and despite the cold air, a furious heat pulsed through her veins.

  “A perk? I’m a fucking perk? Like the lovely Ms. Evans?”

  Surprise rippled across his face before he masked it with an arid smile.

  “Something like that. In fact, I consider her an upgrade.”

  “You egomaniacal bastard. Who the hell do you think you are?”

  His smile hardened. The snowflakes landed on the barbeque cover with a hiss.

  “Lovely. I’m glad we had this chat, but now it’s time for you to leave. Off now. Go back to your husband while you still have him.”

  “This is between you and me. Leave Alex out of this.”

  Jamie placed a hand on the snow-covered railing. He touched his lips as his mocking expression turned thoughtful.

  “You know, I can’t help but wonder what kind of detective your husband is. Can’t be very good if he doesn’t see through your pathetic little act.”

  “He trusts me.”

  “Ah, a good judge of character, then,” he said with a grin. “I wonder how he’ll react when he finds out what you’ve been up to. Do you think he’ll forgive you?” Jamie raised his eyebrows, his expression speculative.

  “He won’t find out about you,” Jill said with more confidence than she felt.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” He faced her again with his arms crossed, voice deliberately slow, as if speaking to a child. “Listen carefully to me. Jillian. I’m only going to say this once. It would be better for both of us if what went on between us stays a secret, but I do promise that if you cause any more trouble, I will tell him every tawdry detail of our little affair.”

  He paused, letting his words sink in.

  “Do you get it now, Jillian? I have nothing to lose, but you will lose everything—your husband, your career. That much I promise you.”

  Jill felt the blood drain from her face as she fought to suck in a breath of the cold mountain air. Time seemed to slow to a halt as she stared at him. The snow was falling steadily. The sound of her heart hammering in her chest was almost audible. What would Alex do if he learned about the affair? One thing was for certain: she did not want to find out.

  “You wouldn’t do that.” She could barely breathe now. The murderous look on his face told her that he was dead serious.

  “Just fucking try me, bitch,” he hissed, turning toward the French doors.

  A wave of intense heat coursed through Jill’s body. Her vision narrowed and blurred around the edges. She screamed. She felt the rage inside her bursting from her chest. Surging forward, she slammed her palms hard against his shoulders. He lurched sideways.

  There was barely time to breathe as she saw him stumble, sliding on the icy deck. Jamie grasped for the railing and missed. Jill stared in horror as he went careening wildly down the steep staircase.

  There was no time to reach out for him. He was gone in the blink of an eye. She heard the crash of wood as the railing splintered underneath his weight. Jamie screamed. And then there was nothing. Jill stood alone on the deck, scarcely able to believe what had just happened.

  The terrible silence that followed was suffocating. She was not sure how much time passed before the world around her began to move once more. She could hear the rustling of the swaying trees. Her hot breath escaped her lungs in a cloud of steam as she waited.

  “Jamie,” Jill called out, easing her way cautiously forward to the top of the stairs. She choked on a gasp as she looked down into the snow below.

  Jamie had landed on the frozen ground at the foot of the stairs. His head had struck a boulder near the base of the staircase and was propped up at an odd angle. Bright-red blood stained the snow.

  Jill wanted to look away, but she was transfixed by the sight below. His glasses were askew, and she could see his lifeless eyes staring up at her. She recognized the mask of death, had seen it on her little brother’s blood-streaked face through the twisted metal of the car wreck.

  Jamie was dead. And she had killed him. Her hand covered her mouth as she drew in a ragged breath.

  Oh, my God.

  Eventually the cold brought her out of her daze. She struggled to make sense of her own thoughts. Should she call 911? What would she say? Would they believe it was an accident? Alex would find out everything. If they linked her with this scene, everyone would find out what had happened between them and that she was responsible for his death. Her life, as she knew it, would be over.

  No. Too risky, she decided. They had a history between them, and involving the police might expose the nature of their relationship. If the truth was revealed, she might lose everything. Could she cover her tracks? Jill stood in the snow and stole a fleeting glance inside.

  Maybe. There were few connections between her and this place. She’d taken the day off and hadn’t told anyone where she was going. After her all-nighter, work would assume she’d gone home to sleep. Alex assumed she was in San Jose. Jamie didn’t expect her. No one knew the truth. No one knew she was here.

  Jill’s racing heart slowed, and an eerie calm descended upon her. She felt like she was watching herself from a great distance. The snow fell from the gray sky in fat, chunky flakes. If this kept up, there would be no evidence of her footprints or the tire tracks outside.

  With one last look at Jamie, she turned and walked back toward the cabin. Stopping long enough to strip off her snowy boots, she stepped through the French doors and quickly scanned the interior of the living room. What had
she touched? What clues had she left behind?

  Think like Alex, she told herself.

  She had spent precious little time inside the house. The only thing she had taken off was her gloves. She paused, looking back at the door. He had opened it. She had not touched the door. She would leave it open, she decided. The deck was icy. It was plausible that he had slipped and fallen on his own.

  Jill eyed the room with a clinical detachment, confident that if she kept her cool, she could make all of this go away.

  She used the towel to swab away any tracks her boots had made on the floor. She wiped down anything she might have touched, then balled up the towel and shoved it into her coat pocket. Standing at the front door, she spun around for one last look. That should be it.

  Pulling her gloves and boots back on, she let herself out, twisting the lock behind her.

  Back in the SUV, she slid the gearshift into drive. The urge to pin the accelerator to the mat, to get as far away from the cabin as fast as she could, was palpable. Exercising the limits of her self-control, she pulled away from the cabin slowly. Her eyes searched the rearview mirror and focused on the cabin disappearing in the distance. Snow caked on the steepled roof. Gray smoke billowed into the cold air. The passing trees marked her progress, and the windshield wipers swished as she drove down the winding road. She checked the mirror again and again until at last the cabin behind her disappeared from view.

  Jill forced herself to relax her hands on the steering wheel and drew in a deep, cleansing breath. She had to be careful now. She couldn’t afford to skid off into the ditch or get into an accident. She couldn’t be noticed by anyone she might pass on the road. It had to appear like she had never been here.

  The gloom of the afternoon closed in around her. The white beam of the headlights reflected off of the snow drilling into the windshield. The sooner she could get back to Interstate 80, the better. There was no telling when conditions would deteriorate to the point that the road might close, leaving her stranded. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw flashing lights approach.

  The police? She went rigid with fear. Could someone have heard Jamie’s scream? No. Yellow lights. A snow plow passed, going in the opposite direction. Reflexively, she checked the rearview mirror again as she drove by.