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The Perfect Liar

The Perfect Liar (Last Stand #5)(4)
Author: Brenda Novak

"No, it’s something else." To him, something worse, because it defamed his character. He knew they’d feel the same way.

"Oh, no…" she mumbled. Then he heard her ask his father to get on the line. "It’s Luke. Something’s wrong."

"Luke?" His father’s voice boomed in his ear, fil ed with protective anger, even though Ed had no idea–could probably never guess–what was wrong.

"Hi, Dad."

"You okay, son?"

The lump in Luke’s throat grew larger, adding embarrassment to a list of other emotions. He had to wrestle with himself just to gain control of his voice. "I’m okay," he managed to say.

"Tell me what’s wrong."

"There’s a woman here, at Travis, a sergeant. She’s actually my crew chief," he said with a disbelieving laugh. "She’s claiming–"

"You haven’t gotten her pregnant!"

"No, it’s not that." He prayed it wasn’t, anyway. As far as he was concerned, that was about the only way his situation could get worse. He’d worn a condom, although Kalyna had insisted she was clean and on the pil . But a condom seemed like meager protection now. They’d found his se**n in her body. What would he do if she wound up pregnant? "This woman’s telling the police I raped her."

His mother gasped, but his father met his announcement with stunned silence.

"Dad?" Luke said.

"What do you have to say about that?" Edward finally asked.

"I didn’t do it."

"You’re one hundred percent certain?"

"Of course!"

"I raised you to be a man, Luke. To take responsibility for your actions. If you’re guilty, I expect you to admit it and pay the price, even if it means prison."

Edward’s code of ethics demanded he be sure before throwing his support behind anyone. That included his son. Luke understood it, so his father’s words didn’t hurt. They offered him the opportunity to tell someone the truth–someone who might actually believe him. "I swear it on my life, Dad."

"Then that’s al that matters."

Luke laughed without mirth. "To you, maybe. But it’s not all that matters to me. She’s already reported it. OSI is handling it."

"They’re charging you?" his mother said.

"Yes."

She made a strangled sound. "What happened?"

Luke dropped his head into his hands. "I was an idiot."

His father responded before his mother could. "You need to expand on that answer."

"I wasn’t thinking straight."

"Why not?"

He remembered the call he’d received from Lil y Hughes, his best friend’s mother. Because his parents were no longer at Hil Air Force Base in Utah–they’d left when Ed retired–they probably hadn’t heard the news he was about to impart. "Phil was kil ed in Iraq."

"No!" his mother cried.

Luke sat on the edge of the couch and stared glumly at the floor. "I’m afraid so."

"That’s terrible!"

It was worse than terrible, so terrible Luke couldn’t accept it. He stared at the shoes he was supposed to mail to the cousins who’d used his apartment. They’d left them and a few other things behind. But he’d been caught up in this mess and hadn’t made it to the post office yet.

"I’m sorry, honey," his mother was saying. "I know how much you loved Phil."

It was Phil who’d first befriended him when they moved to Ogden, Utah, halfway through Luke’s sophomore year. Phil who’d convinced him to play football their junior year. Phil with whom he’d double-dated and competed for valedictorian. Phil with whom he’d gotten into trouble for starting a food fight the day of graduation, after which he’d been barred from speaking at the commencement exercises. He and Phil had even loved the same girl–but Phil had declared himself first, so Luke had said nothing. He stood as best man and watched Phil marry Marissa. Then Phil had gone into the marines and Luke had followed in his father’s footsteps and joined the air force.

"When’s the funeral?" his mother asked.

"It’s over. He died five weeks ago. Lil y was so grief-stricken she didn’t think to call me. She apologized profusely, but…"

"Why didn’t Phil’s wife get in touch? She had to realize you’d want to know. The three of you were inseparable in high school."

He was the last person Marissa would call. About a year after she married Phil, she’d told Luke she’d made a mistake, that he was the one she really wanted. It had nearly kil ed him to do it, but he’d turned her away and insisted she never contact him again–for any reason. He wasn’t about to let their love triangle end in tragedy, the way so many did. As much as he cared about her, as tormented with jealousy as he’d been every time he saw them together, he’d wanted them to be happy. Phil had gotten with Marissa first; Luke was the one who had to suck it up and move on. "I guess she didn’t think of it, either."

"So you didn’t get a chance to say goodbye," his mother said.

"No." Even worse, he and Phil had argued the last time they’d talked.

About Marissa. As usual. Phil shouldn’t have volunteered for that second tour. Luke had tried to tell him to go home and take care of his family. That Marissa needed a husband and their son needed a father, but Phil wouldn’t hear of it. He was too pumped up on the war and patriotism. Before slamming down the phone, Luke had told his friend that he didn’t deserve Marissa. But he hadn’t meant it. He regretted that statement even more than he regretted going home with Kalyna.

"How does his death relate to this…Sergeant–what’s her name?" his dad asked.

"Kalyna Harter. I went to a local bar that night to get my mind off the fact that I’l never see Phil again, and she showed up."

"Go on…"

"She kept hitting on me and…" Guilt bit deep. He hadn’t raped Kalyna, but he’d made himself vulnerable to her. Now her accusations would reflect on his entire family. "I…It was a mistake."

"So you slept with her," his father said.

"I slept with her, but I didn’t force her."

"Why would she lie?"

"That’s what I can’t figure out. I mean, I know she was angry that I wouldn’t stay the whole night. When I left, she made some pretty ugly statements, but–"

"For example…"

Luke didn’t want to repeat them. He hadn’t been with her because he wanted to pursue a relationship, which was the only honorable reason to get that intimate with a woman. But then, he’d thought she understood it was strictly casual. If he’d been interested in her, he would’ve asked her out on one of the many occasions she’d hinted that she wanted him to do so.

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