Page 101 of Liar's Point

“Yeah.”

Kate lifted an eyebrow at yet another lie. “I really wish I could stay, but I’m running late.” She gathered up her laptop and slid it into her computer bag.

“Thanks for coming over. And for running interference with Mom and Dad.”

“No problem.” She stepped over and gave Nicole a quick hug. “Keep me posted. And be sure to stay on top of your pain meds.”

As if she could forget.

CHAPTER

EIGHTEEN

Cassandra drove down Main Street, scanning the sidewalks and trying to get her nerves under control. Malcom wasn’t here. He couldn’t be. Just last night, he’d posted on social media from an Avalanche game.

But somehow, Malcom always managed to make his presence felt.

No parking spaces available, so she circled the block once more. Regret needled her as she passed the familiar cafés and T-shirt shops. She passed her favorite art gallery that had all the watercolors of boats that she could never afford. Then she passed the old-fashioned candy shop where they made saltwater taffy in a rainbow of flavors. Tears welled in her eyes as she turned the corner. The spark of hope she’d had when she’d first come to the island had dimmed, day by day, until this morning when it had been snuffed out completely.

A driver pulled out of a space on the corner, and Cassandra wedged her little white Mustang into the tight opening. She jumped out and surveyed her parking job. Not great, but not terrible enough to attract attention. For months, Cassandra had avoided driving her car unless absolutely necessary because her registration was expired and she hadn’t wanted to get pulled over and get a ticket, which would create a record of her name and location. But traffic tickets were the least of her worries now.

She waited for a break in cars and darted across the street. She passed the real estate office where they put out water bowls for dogs and posted local listings in the window. Cassandra used to dream about those listings and about one day having enough money to plunk down a deposit on some dilapidated beach cottage that she could gradually fix up. Those dreams seemed absurd now, along with everything else she’d been steadfastly working toward for months.

Nearing the law office, her stomach sank as she spied the sign in the window: Back soon! it said over a little clock. The clock hands were set to four p.m., the same as they had been yesterday when she’d come by here.

“Hey there.”

Cassandra whirled around. Leyla Breda strode up the sidewalk, her arms loaded with brown packages.

“I thought that was you,” Leyla said with a smile. Today she wore a baseball cap and paint-spattered jeans. “You looking for Alex?”

“Uh, yeah.”

Crap. Cassandra had no desire to chitchat with Alex’s sister, but what choice did she have?

“He’s out, I’m afraid.” Leyla stopped at the door and pulled a key from her pocket. The top package fell off the stack.

Cassandra stooped to pick it up. “Do you know when he’ll be back?”

Leyla opened the door and stepped into the office. Setting the boxes by the door, she turned around. “Sorry.” She huffed out a breath. “What’s that?”

Cassandra handed her the package. “Will he be in today or—”

“Tomorrow. He’s in Houston taking care of some business.” Leyla added the box to the pile of packages from Amazon, IKEA, Pottery Barn. “Geez, look at all this. And there’s more at my apartment. I get to be his post office until his lease starts next month.”

Leyla looked up, and her smile faded as she studied Cassandra’s face. “Everything okay?”

“Fine. I was just, you know, hoping to talk to him today.”

“Did you try calling him?”

“I left him a voicemail this morning.”

“Oh. Well...” She put her hand on her hip. “He’s probably in a meeting or something. I’m sure he’ll get back to you.”

Cassandra was pretty sure he would, too. But by the time he did, it might not even matter.

Leyla’s brow furrowed as she looked her over.

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