The Perfect Liar (Last Stand #5)(77)
Author: Brenda Novak

Picking up Phil’s letter, he read it again–but this time, even though he had nowhere to send it, he wrote his best friend back.

And apologized.

It wasn’t easy to tail Ava. Especially once they entered the delta.

There wasn’t enough traffic to go unnoticed. But Kalyna had two things going for her. As far as she knew, Ava had never seen her car. And she wasn’t expecting to be followed.

Actually, Kalyna was pretty sure she had three things going for her.

She suspected Ava was too preoccupied to notice anything short of an earthquake. Something had happened at Luke’s, something to upset her.

While they were waiting at a stoplight, Kalyna had seen Ava wiping her eyes, and those tears confirmed what she’d sensed when she’d seen Luke and Ava together–they cared about each other. How, Kalyna couldn’t imagine. They’d met so recently. It didn’t seem fair. But in the three months Kalyna had known Luke, she’d never seen him treat a woman, or anyone else for that matter, so rudely. Unless provoked, he was always friendly, always smiling.

Except when he’d seen Ava in the hall. Kalyna had felt her own stomach knot with the tension that’d entered the room as soon as he opened that door. His body language, his voice, the look in his eyes–it’d all changed so drastically. And then there was that moment afterward, when he’d ducked his head as if Ava had slugged him. Kalyna had known instantly that he longed to go after her, and she’d barely been able to breathe ever since.

After what she’d been through, she couldn’t let Ava get in the way.

Not again. She finally had a chance with Luke. He believed she was pregnant, believed it could be his child. He was letting her do his laundry.

That was a start. Eventually, she’d win him over, prove she could be everything he’d ever want in a woman–if she didn’t have to compete with Ava. She didn’t want Ava calling or showing up and ruining everything. She couldn’t bear the thought of Luke daydreaming about Ava when he was supposed to be thinking of her.

As they passed over one bridge and then another, traffic all but disappeared, forcing Kalyna to hang back until she could barely see Ava’s car. She lost her when Ava made two quick turns but she got lucky. One road had a sign that indicated it was a dead end, which sent her down the opposite one, and she caught a glimpse of the bright yellow Volkswagen just before Ava parked next to a pickup truck by a pier.

At the end of that pier was a houseboat, but Kalyna couldn’t go any closer. After pulling off the road, she hid her car in a copse of trees and got out.

Crying always gave Ava a headache. She hated it–the blotchy face, the clogged sinuses, the swollen eyes. She tried to remain as objective as possible about her work and religiously avoided anything else that might cause tears, like sad books and movies. But she’d thought Luke’s life was in danger, so she hadn’t been able to dodge coming face-to-face with him.

And once the tears started, she couldn’t fight them.

Finally letting herself go, she’d blubbered during the whole drive home. She cried for her mother, and her father, and Bella, and all the cases that hadn’t ended the way she’d hoped since she’d begun working at The Last Stand. Most of all, she’d cried over Luke. Over what she wanted and what she couldn’t have. Over her own shortcomings and what she perceived to be his. She’d assumed she could stand in her shower and recover for as long as necessary, maybe even take the day off. But when she got home, she didn’t find the privacy she was expecting. She found her father waiting for her.

"No way," she muttered as she got out of her car. Although she’d studiously avoided glancing at herself in the rearview mirror because she didn’t want to see how pathetic she must look, she knew she wouldn’t be able to hide the fact that she’d been crying. She also knew he wouldn’t be impressed. He wasn’t the type who appreciated displays of emotion; they made him even more uncomfortable than they made her. And here she was, fresh from the biggest crying jag she’d ever had. "This oughta help our relationship."

"You talking to me?" How he’d heard her, she had no idea. The wind must’ve carried her voice, since he wasn’t that close. He was already on the houseboat. When she pulled up, he’d been sitting in one of her patio chairs on the deck, but now he stood at the railing.

"What are you doing here?" she called back.

"I came to see my little girl."

Ava felt the lump in her throat swell again. She wasn’t his "little girl"

unless he wanted something. What was it this time? Did he need her to dog-sit Carly’s spoiled poodle again? She hated that dog almost as much as she hated its owner.

Regardless of what his request might be, she wasn’t sure she could deal with it right now. But this was her father. She never got to pick the time or the place for whatever sacrifice he required.

"Everything okay with Carly?" she asked.

"They’ve been better."

She’d kicked him out. Ava could tell by the sheepish expression on his face. "Where’s your luggage?" she asked.

They were only two feet from each other, and he had yet to comment on her tear-streaked face. But that didn’t come as a surprise. He’d never been that interested in what was happening in her life. "I haven’t packed up yet. She was throwing things. I left before she could cause too much damage."

"I see. Are you going back for your stuff or hoping it’l all blow over?"

He glanced away. "I’m too old to start over again, Ava."

She drew a deep breath. Of course. He’d go back to Carly if he could.

That, too, came as no surprise. "Okay. Would you like an iced tea while you wait for her to cool off?"

He didn’t answer. "What’s going on with you?" he asked.

What? He’d finally deigned to notice?

She attempted what she hoped was a convincing shrug. "Nothing.

Just a tough case."

He studied her for a moment, but ultimately nodded. He didn’t know her well enough to argue with her. And he wasn’t going to argue, anyway.

That fell under the category of "dramatic displays of emotion."

"I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry before," he mused.

Not for years, anyway. Although he and Carly had sat through most of Zelinda’s trial–Carly had been fascinated by the whole sordid case–

Chuck had been absent the day the verdict came in, and Ava hadn’t cried since. Carly had said he wasn’t feeling well, that he had a touch of the flu, but he’d been well enough to bring an extra set of keys to the houseboat that night.

Ava had always wondered if he’d missed the culmination of the trial on purpose. They’d all seen the evidence, heard the arguments, knew which way it would go. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to hear the final verdict, hadn’t wanted to face something so negative. Maybe he feared he’d feel responsible for his first wife’s decline. She’d been a very different woman when she’d married him.