The Lies That Bind

“Hello, darling.”

Shock and pleasure overcame me. Derek was loitering by the bookshelf in the north alcove, thumbing through one of the many other copies of Oliver Twist on exhibit.

I slipped my arms around his waist and rested my head against his rock-solid chest.

“Ah, that’s lovely.” He wrapped his arms around me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Hoping to see you, of course.”

“That’s so sweet.”

“I’m a sweet guy.”

“But isn’t Gunther giving a class tonight?”

“Is he?”

“Very fu

“Yes, well, I’d still rather see you.” He seemed reluctant to let me go and I was perfectly happy to stay right where I was. After another minute or so, he said, “No matter what happens, I’m taking you out tonight.”

“Are you?”

“I am.” He leaned his head back and frowned at me. “You’re not otherwise engaged, are you?”

“Do you care?” I asked.

His mouth twisted into a sexy grin. “Of course I care.”

I patted the lapel of his bazillion-dollar Savile Row suit. “Then I’m available.”

“I’m glad.”

We continued to smile at each other and I tried to put a name to the emotion ru

There was that sappiness again. Really, I didn’t need anyone to complete me, for God’s sake. I was complete all on my own.

And how complete could someone else make me feel when I’d never even been on a date with him? Crime scenes, yes. But unless crime scenes counted as dates, I barely knew him.

And just how happy and blissful would I be when he left? Did I really want to open myself to the pain I would suffer then? Because he would leave. His home was six thousand miles away. He’d only been to San Francisco a few times on business.

But none of that mattered to my heart right now. Or any other parts of me, either. I didn’t know what was going on between Derek and me, didn’t know where we would end up, but I was tired of fighting against the tide. I just wanted to be with him.

I rested my head on his custom-suited shoulder.

“Don’t ever play poker,” he said, brushing back my hair to nuzzle my neck.

“Why not?”

“Your face is an open book.”

I lifted my head and studied his face for a moment, then frowned. “I can’t read one word on yours.”

“That’s because I’m a highly trained operative,” he said, bending his head to graze his lips along my jaw.

I laughed. “Oh, Commander, does that line really work?”

“I believe it’s working right now,” he murmured, and kissed my neck.

After that exhilarating di

I’d already given myself the lecture about appearing too eager, but let’s face it, that ship had sailed. Apparently, my heart was on my sleeve. Go ahead and call me an idiot. It couldn’t be worse than the names I’d already called myself, including fifty-seven kinds of stupid.

Somehow I managed to get through the class. I made sure everyone had someone to accompany them to their cars. For once, Mitchell wasn’t paying attention as he strolled off with the other two librarians, deep in conversation.

I straightened the room and walked out to the gallery. Derek wasn’t in the immediate vicinity so I checked the alcoves and the hallways, then wandered into Gunther’s classroom. It was empty. I could see lights on in the office wing so I ambled down the hall, thinking Derek might’ve struck up a conversation with one of the managers.

Naomi was the only one still around. She sat at her desk, pounding on a calculator and writing numbers on a sheet of paper. A single lamp illuminated the desk surface, leaving her face in shadow.

“Hi, Naomi,” I said.

Her hand jerked and the pencil slid across the page, leaving a dark mark. “Damn it.”

“Sorry to startle you,” I said.

She exhaled and I could see a frown appear on her face. “It’s okay. I thought everyone had left. Look, about the book,” she said, erasing the pencil smudge.

“Oh, we can talk about that later,” I said, glancing down the hall. I had bigger things on my mind than the Oliver Twist. “I’m looking for Derek Stone. I was supposed to meet him after my class.”

“Really?” Her eyes gleamed with intent. “He left awhile ago.”

I frowned. Maybe she misunderstood. “Derek Stone? The British guy? He left?”

“I know who he is.” Thump-thump-thump went the eraser. “He left with the police.”

I froze, unsure if I’d heard her right. Her thumping eraser was getting on my nerves. “The police were here?”

“Yeah. Oh, you must’ve been in class.”

“Right. So he left at the same time the police did?”

She chuckled scornfully. “Not exactly.”

I had to hold myself back from strangling her as my voice rose. “Then what, exactly?”

She stared up at me and I could see how much she loathed me at that moment. I guess maybe I’d laid it on a little heavy earlier, when I accused her dearly departed aunt of lying.

“The police took him in for questioning,” she said.

In shock, I had to force the word out. “Why?”

She made an exasperated sound and waved the pencil around. “Oh, come on, Brooklyn. You know, about his thing with Layla.”

My ears were starting to buzz and I felt dizzy. “What thing with Layla?”

She pulled a face. “What rock have you been hiding under?”

“I’m not sure.” My knees were wobbling and I grabbed the doorjamb. “Spell it out for me.”

Her smile was gloating. “Derek and Layla?”

“What about them?”

“They were having an affair, Brooklyn. Layla broke up with him. He carries a gun. You do the math.”

Chapter 14

Derek? Layla? Affair?

No, it wasn’t true. I staggered out of her office, then stopped and stared at the wall, trying to focus. But I couldn’t. I felt nauseous and my throat was so dry I couldn’t swallow.

I swung around and stepped back into Naomi’s office. She looked up and I caught a glimmer of triumph in her eyes. And in that moment, I knew she was fabricating the entire story. Evidently, the bitch strain ran deep in Layla’s family. I braced myself, sucked in a few deep breaths, and struggled to gain back some of the strength that had drained away a minute ago.

“You’re lying,” I said, taking another step into her office.

Naomi’s lips curved into a smirk. “Uh-oh, looks like Brooklyn’s jealous. So you didn’t know about the two of them?”

“No,” I said, more easily now. “Because there’s no such thing as the ‘two of them.’ ”

She licked her lips, an obvious clue that she was making it up as she went along. “Yes, there is.”

“I’m not sure why you’re lying to me, Naomi. Maybe because I threatened you earlier about the book. But right now I don’t care about that. I just want you to know that if you lied to the police about Derek, that book will be the least of your worries.”

“I’m not lying and it has nothing to do with the book.” She stood and walked around the desk, then sat on the edge. It was an imitation of her aunt, and even knowing she was lying, I wanted to smack that fake sympathetic smile off her face. “I’m sorry, hon. I guess you didn’t know. But it shouldn’t be such a big surprise. You know Layla would screw anything that moved. Of course, in Derek’s case, I couldn’t really blame her. He’s totally cute.”

“Cute,” I murmured, and wanted more than anything else to throttle her. All of a sudden, pictures flashed in my head of Layla gripping Derek’s arm that first night. Of Layla rubbing her leg up against Derek’s. Of Layla patting his backside.

And right then, I was immensely glad she was dead. I hated her. There, I’d said it. To myself, anyway.