Page 4 of These White Lies
“Probably because I give you the friends and family discount.” I toss him a towel, and he catches it with a twitch at the corner of his mouth. “Andbecause you know I won’t hit you too hard in the face because I’m terrified of your wife.”
“You’re an ass.”
“Doesn’t mean it’s not true.”
He snorts, peeling off his own gloves. Leaning against the wall, I roll my neck, letting the familiar early morning hum of the gym settle in—gloves hitting bags, the rhythmic slap of jump ropes against the floor.
The boxing gym may not be my primary business, but it’s an outlet I can’t live without. I don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t try to beat the shit out of people in a regulated way. It’s the only way I’ve ever found to safely excise the anger inside me. The only decent thing my father ever did for me was introduce me to the sport. Fitting, since he’s also the reason I’ve got so much rage to burn off.
My phone buzzes on the bench next to me.
“James, why is your brother calling me at the ass crack of dawn?”
My best friend frowns, dropping the used towel in a bin. “He’s already at the office? I thought he was taking a few days off while Dahlia was in town.”
Luke’s wife is a famous actor, and with her shooting schedule, she and Luke are rarely in the same city. Usually when she is in town, Luke is off the radar, their time together sacrosanct.
“Apparently.” I head for the hallway, intending to duck into the office for privacy.
“Fantastic.” James grunts, heading for the showers. “Bet you fifty grand whatever early morning emergency this is, he tries to dump it on me.”
I wave him off with a grin. I’ve been listening to the Bloom twins bicker since college. The air is cooler in the office, the air conditioning working overtime to filter out the humidity of the gym. Dropping into the chair, I prop my bare feet up on the desk corner before calling Luke back.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of the early morning summoning?”
The sound of Luke’s typing comes through before he answers. “A new case popped up last night.” He hesitates before continuing. “I have a feeling it’s going to be complicated.”
I grab the water bottle sitting beside my laptop and take a deep pull, my brain sparking at the promise of something new. Lately, new and exciting have become few and far between. “Complicated how?”
There is a pause.
“My client says she’s being framed. Normally, I wouldn’t believe a client on just their word, but… I know her… sort of.”
He heaves out a sigh. “Not enough to know if she’s lying though, and something about the whole scenario is seriously off.”
“Offlike you think she did it?”
“No, that’s the problem. Everything about the scene feels wrong. Too precise in some ways, sloppy in others.”
“You want me to dig into the evidence?”
“I want you in the room with her this morning. I want your read.”
The tension in his voice gets my attention. “There’s more you’re not telling me.”
Luke sighs. “She found her ex-husband dead in her house. No forced entry. Security didn’t alert. And the murder weapon was found in her bushes.”
I sit up straighter. “Alibi?”
“Not airtight. She called it in herself. But Brady… There’s something about this… and she…”
If I didn’t know how obsessed Luke was with his wife, I’d think he was interested in her.
“Criminals aren’t always intelligent.” I point out.
“I know that better than you,” Luke snaps. “I want you to sit in on a meeting with her this morning. Give me your impression of the case and of her. Whoever killed him left a note.”
Thatisinteresting.
