I vanished? I couldn’t even stand to contemplate the baffled hurt in those blue eyes. It would be the ultimate rejection.
I sighed and stared at the moonlight through the glass roof.
I was a coward, a miserable liar, but I couldn’t do that to her. I simply couldn’t.
That left me with two options—more lies or the truth.
I took a deep breath and knew I couldn’t tell any more lies.
I hated the person I was turning into, the man I was becoming.
I could fix this. Make it right.
Just the thought made me put the files back under the pot.
Tomorrow I’ll tell her the truth.
SAVANNAH
The next morning, I wasn’t fooling around. I perched on the counter and made myself a breakfast of hot coffee and cold sugar pie.
I’d barely slept last night, my body running hot and my mind cold. C.J., uninhibited, rolled onto her back on the counter next to me. Feeling benevolent, I gave the old girl a good tummy rub.
The way Matt had rubbed me last night.
I could not stop replaying it all in my mind. What did he mean, not like this? Not in the old sleeping porch? Not with Katie and Margot sleeping upstairs?
Or was there something worse stopping him.
The past conditioned me to pick option three because it was the worst option and I liked being prepared for disasters. But I didn’t want to this morning. I wanted to believe that he’d stopped because of Katie and Margot and the squeaky daybed on the porch.
Didn’t stop him from tying you up. Putting his mouth all over you.
Whatever reasons he had for stopping I didn’t want to believe it was because he wasn’t the man I thought he was.
He was a good man, a valuable man of worth and honor.
Not at all like Eric.
Please. Not like Eric.
I mean, fool me once and all that shit.
Nope, I was going with my gut on this one and started to hum an old Van Morrison tune. Matt Howe was one of the good ones.
“You’re an idiot.”
Jumping at Juliette’s voice, I whirled, pushing blond hair out of my way to find my best friend standing in the kitchen doorway.
“Juliette? What are you doing here?”
“Trying to prevent you from doing something stupid, but I think I’m too late.” she said, striding into the kitchen looking way too police chiefy for such an early-morning visit.
Something cold and awful slid into my joy.
I resisted it as hard as I could, threw up all kinds of walls and doors and locks. Please, I thought, trying to hug the memory of the night to myself. Just let me have this.
“Look at you,” Juliette said, flinging a hand out at me. “Singing Van Morrison, looking like a cat that’s found the cream and…Christ, that’s sugar pie, isn’t it?”
I dropped the dish on the counter. “What’s your point?” I asked, tugging the neckline of my robe higher like she could see the kiss marks and beard burn on my skin.
“You slept with him, didn’t you?”
“No, I did not.” I blinked, though somehow what had happened last night felt more intimate than sex. “And even if I did, I’m a grown woman, Juliette. I appreciate your concern, but I don’t need it. It’s okay.” I smiled, trying hard to hold on to my morning-after glow. It had been eight years since I felt this way, actually, scratch that.
I have never felt the way he made me feel.
“Savannah, I hate to tell you this, but I got an e-mail from the FBI office in Baton Rouge, and that man—the man you clearly did something with, the man living here—is lying to you.”
An icy shower of dread ran over me and the joy couldn’t hold out.
“What are you saying?” I asked, as the cold seeped past my muscles and into my bones.
“Whoever that man is, he isn’t Matt Howe. There is no Matt Howe.”
8
SAVANNAH
“What?” I asked, pushing myself onto my feet, stumbling because everything was suddenly numb. Cold.
Juliette reached out to grab my elbow but I jerked away. I didn’t want to be touched. Not now.
“What are you saying?”
“There are no Matt Howes who are his age and look like him who live in St. Louis. No birth certificates. No driver’s licenses. No school records, hospital records. Nothing. That man is not Matt Howe.”
But he was. He’d put his fingers in my mouth and his lips on my body. I’d laughed with him. I put my head in my hands, reaching deep for a little strength. I’d told him my secrets.
“You’re sure?”