Truthseeker

Twenty-Two

Law and Order, Lara was convinced, had an unca

“You’re going to have to stick to your guns,” Kelly said helplessly. “I’m a much better liar than you are and even I can’t think of a story that would stand up to investigation. Unless you want to say you were kidnapped by the government and held at Guantánamo for the last year and a half. You could be a terrorist.”

“Armed with a needle and a box of pins?” Lara smiled, surprising herself. “I think the government would deny it, Kelly.”

“Well, that would be the point! It’s not like they’d throw open Gitmo’s doors and invite people to come take a look to prove they hadn’t been holding you. So your best bet is to either accuse the government of something outrageous or keep your mouth shut.”

“I think I’ll keep my mouth shut.” Lara tucked her feet up onto Kelly’s couch and curled her head down against the arm with a sigh. “Marjorie said with a miracle this could take days, but it was likely to take weeks. I don’t want to leave him there that long, Kel. Prison’s not good for him.”

“Prison’s not good for anybody.”

Lara muffled a short laugh in the couch arm. “No, but it’s worse for him. It’s an iron cage and it’s making him sick. So I have to find a way to make this move faster.”

“I take it you won’t be going back to Lord Matthew’s, then.”

Regret made a knot around Lara’s heart. “Not right away. Which might mean never. I don’t know. I have to—” Her stomach rumbled and she put a hand over it. “I have to eat something. I don’t think I even had lunch.”

“Thus reminding me of how you stay slim. Never fear, I anticipated this. Dickon will be here within half an hour, bearing an enormous bag of Mexican food.” Kelly caught her lower lip in her teeth. “Lara, about Dickon …”

“I’ll tell him the truth,” Lara offered quietly. “He’s not going to believe it, but he’s your fiancé, Kel, and he’s been Dafydd’s friend for a long time. He’s going to have to talk to Dafydd to believe it, he’s going to have to see Dafydd to believe it, but it’s not fair to keep him all the way out of the loop.”

“I’ve told him about you and the truth. Maybe he’ll believe you.” Kelly sounded dubious. “But thanks in advance for trying, even if he’ll think you’re insane.”

“I’m willing to be considered insane as long as he brings di

“The wedding’s in a month. I can handle having you as a roommate that long, Lar. Then if you want the place, it’s yours. What’re you going to do, if you’re not going back to work?”

“Find Emyr’s worldbreaking weapon.” Lara spread her hands as Kelly’s eyebrows went up. “I’m going to try, anyway. Ioan thought maybe it could be used to put things right in the Barrow-lands, so if I get Dafydd freed and we go back, it might be good to have it.”

“Ioan the kidnapper? That Ioan? And you belie—” Kelly broke off and made a face at the ceiling. “Well, Kelly, it was a hypothesis on his part, and not an outright lie, so of course Lara, who senses the truth, is going to give him the benefit of the doubt.” She reversed her gaze, smiling ruefully at Lara. “Sorry. I kind of forgot who I was talking to there for a minute.”

The door swung open on her last words and Dickon said, “You’re back after a year and a half missing and she’s forgetting who you are already? Lara, you need new friends.” His joviality sounded forced, and Kelly jumped up to get plates from the kitchen as he mustered up an awkward smile for Lara. He’d lost weight since she’d seen him last, though it did little to reduce his imposing size. The worry etched between his eyebrows, though, removed any thought of caution he might have inspired. “Holy crap, I’m glad to see you, Lara. I, um. Can I, like, hug you?”

A trill of strained laughter broke from Lara’s throat. “That would be great. I’m glad to see you, too.”

Dickon crossed the room in two steps and put the sack of food on the coffee table before hauling Lara off the couch into a bear hug. “Man, I knew David couldn’t have hurt you, but holy crap am I glad to see you in one piece.” He put her back down on her feet, expression so tight it looked headache-inducing. “Look, I know I’m supposed to give you time to settle in, Kelly made me promise not to come after you or harass you but what the hell happened, Lara? Where have you been?”

Kelly wailed “Dickon!” from the kitchen. He looked faintly abashed, but not enough for the curiosity in his eyes to fade.

“It’s okay,” Lara said, loudly enough for Kelly to hear, then smiled lopsidedly at Dickon. “Di

Dickon nodded jerkily. “Yeah, of course, okay. Kelly said you’d forget to eat.”

“She knows me very well.” Lara took the armchair Kelly had abandoned as Kelly came out of the kitchen armed with plates and silverware. Moments later a picnic di

“Eat fast,” Dickon suggested. “I got sopapillas but they get tough as they cool.”

“We can soften them up again with honey and ice cream. Except I think I only have chocolate.” Kelly frowned toward the kitchen and Lara made a dismissive noise around her first bite of tamale.

“I’m too hungry to eat slowly anyway. I’m sure I can get to the sopapillas before they’re cold.” For a few minutes they were silent, eating quickly, and Lara finally gave a sigh of contentment as she took a couple of still-warm pastries. “Okay, Dickon. Tell me six things about yourself, and make two of them lies.”

He blinked at her, then took an overly large swallow of soda. “Um. Okay. My name is Dickon Edward Collins, I’m thirty-two, um, I drive a Harley, my mom was born in Scotland, I went to film school in Manchester, that’s where I met David, and I’m nuts about your best friend. How many was that?”

“Seven. And you don’t drive a Harley and your mother wasn’t born in Scotland.” Lara gri

“Kel could have told you either of those things. And you’ve been in my Bronco, so you knew I didn’t drive a Harley.”

“But I didn’t! And you do have a Yamaha,” Kelly pointed out. “Which I never told her.”

“Try me again,” Lara said. “I know Kelly’s told you about my truthseeking ability. Try something Kelly doesn’t know or wouldn’t have any reason to tell me.”

“I broke both my legs jumping out of a tree when I was seven.”

Mistruth jangled across Lara’s nerves, the same uncomfortable wrongness Dafydd’s Americanized name had produced, though much less intense. “Part of that isn’t true.”

Curiosity turned up the corner of Dickon’s mouth. “I broke both my legs.”

“True.”

“I broke both my legs jumping out of a tree.”

“True. But you weren’t seven.”

He laughed. “I was six. My brother was supposed to catch me. I think he got in more trouble than I did, but I paid for it. I spent the whole summer sweating in a cast. Oh my God, it itched. Okay, how about this: I met the Dalai Lama once.”