Faces Of Evil: Traceless Part 8

Outrage unfurled, mostly at herself. "The only thing about Clint Austin that interests me, Mr. Fairgate, is making sure justice is served."

"Really." He braced his hands on his desk, leaned forward. "And here I was thinking you were interested in the truth."

She pivoted away from the amus.e.m.e.nt in those beady eyes and stamped out. Taking the stairs in a blind rush, she flew to the front door, already standing open with another of those bouncer-type guys waiting to close it behind her.

Outside, she gulped as much air as possible. b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

She didn't care what that evil little man said, her father had to have a good reason for interacting with him. Ed Wallace wouldn't have any secrets harmful to anyone other than perhaps himself. The remark about her being interested in the truth had been designed to unnerve her. Well, Fairgate had succeeded. d.a.m.n him.

She started her car, executed a three-point turn, and barreled down the drive. She stopped for the gate, irritation pounding with every beat she waited; then she rolled out into the street.

A black Maxima parked on the other side of the street caused her to slow when she wanted to floor the accelerator and rocket away from this place. The woman behind the wheel stared at Emily, then waved.

Misty Briggs?

Emily braked automatically, powered her window down, and resuscitated one of her pretend smiles. "Hi." She could feel the new rumors forming and mutating already. She should not have come here.

Misty Briggs adjusted her clunky gla.s.ses. "Emily." She glanced at the closing gate. "Fancy meeting you here."

Emily prompted her brain to generate a plausible excuse. "I came to speak with Mr. Fairgate." No point pretending otherwise. The woman wasn't blind, just nearsighted.

"Oh." Ms. Briggs met Emily's eyes briefly, then stared in the direction of the house again as if something there kept distracting her. "Lots of people come to see him."

Okay. No need to prolong this strange reunion. Before Emily could offer a parting line, Briggs asked, "Was he there?"

Confused at first, Emily asked, "Who?"

Those huge hazel eyes, magnified further by the thick lenses, flicked to Emily's. "Fairgate."

"Oh. Yes, he was there."

"Alone?"

Stranger by the second. "You mean alone other than his apelike bodyguards?"

"Yes, that's what I mean."

"I didn't see anyone else." Sitting here having this discussion with her former science teacher who had clearly inhaled way too many toxic fumes was too weird. "Well, it was good to see you."

Briggs scrutinized Emily now as if she'd only just realized to whom she was speaking. "Justine mentioned that she'd spoken with you." Briggs said this as if she hadn't heard Emily's cue that she intended to go, as if she hadn't asked those odd questions about Fairgate. "She thought you seemed terribly upset about Clint Austin's release."

Emily wanted to ask what she was supposed to feel; instead she said with amazing aplomb, "I'm extremely disappointed in the parole board's judgment."

Briggs pushed at her gla.s.ses again. "You know, I almost hate to mention this, but the subject came up in the beauty shop the other day."

Here it came. This was why Emily rarely came home and never ventured into town.

"I'm certain there's nothing to it," Misty went on. "Just a rumor."

Emily braced herself. She should just drive away and leave the woman sitting here wondering why.

"It was very disturbing, though. The rumor suggested that Austin was innocent. That his alibi was real, but he just couldn't prove it." She stared at the Fairgate house again as if G.o.d himself resided there. "I guess only he knows the answer to that one."

Despite having b.u.t.tressed herself for the disclosure, Emily hadn't been adequately prepared. She couldn't dredge up a response. The idea that Justine had mentioned being at the beauty shop with all Emily's old friends filtered through along with Misty's remarks. Had they all been talking about Emily? About the murder?

A symphony of notes shattered the stifling silence.

'That's my phone." Briggs offered a quick smile. "Maybe I'll see you again before you go back to Birmingham."

Emily managed a choked good-bye, took her foot off the brake, and coasted away. She glanced in her rearview mirror, She'd gone through all that emotional turmoil and she still didn't know any more than she had before she'd arrived.

Except a lot of ridiculous gossip about Austin's alibi. He didn't have an alibi.

What the h.e.l.l did her father have to do with any of this? Her father did not keep damaging secrets. Gossip. Rumors. That was all this was.

Secrets and lies.

None of it changed the truth.

Emily knew the truth.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

"What was that all about?"

Sid snapped out of the pseudocoma he'd lapsed into and glared at her. "What're you moaning about?" G.o.dd.a.m.n b.i.t.c.h. She should know better than to get into his business. He didn't even know why she was here.

She wanted something. He saw plenty he wanted. Antic.i.p.ation altered his foul mood ever so slightly.

As if sensing the change, she studied him curiously. "Was that Emily Wallace?"

He pointed a threatening finger. "That is none of your f.u.c.king business." He glowered at her when what he really wanted was to f.u.c.k her brains out, but she'd never once looked at him that way. She was too high-and-mighty.

"You seem a little tense," she offered coolly.

"And why wouldn't I be?" he demanded, giving her a stare that usually had the people who dared to enter his office cowering. "It's Grand f.u.c.king Central Station around here!" First Clint Austin came shooting off his mouth, then that frigid b.i.t.c.h Emily Wallace. d.a.m.n straight he was tense. Ready to snap.

She hummed a note of disinterest. "Someone really should tell that man that he isn't welcome in this town anymore:"

"You think that's my f.u.c.king job?" Sid snarled. It wasn't his place to straighten out his daddy's G.o.dd.a.m.n s.h.i.+t. But Sid did enjoy watching people thrash around like puppets on a string. There were lots of people thras.h.i.+ng with Austin's return.

The t.w.a.t currently watching Sid folded her arms over those high, full t.i.ts, blocking his view of those firm nipples poking against the thin fabric of her dress. "So, are we doing business or what?" she challenged.

He s.h.i.+vered. d.a.m.n, she was powerful. He rarely met a woman who could do that to him from halfway across the room. His gaze roved over that filmy red dress, the wrap kind that tied at the waist. He imagined the wicked lingerie beneath. "That depends upon what you have to offer."

Her manicured fingers tugged at the strings of the sash, and the silky fabric swept over her shoulders and cascaded to the floor. She held out her arms, showcasing her spectacularly naked body. "What will this buy me?"

His eyes bulged, but he managed to nod, tough to do considering every muscle in his body had gone rock hard. "That could put me in a very generous mood." More so than he had antic.i.p.ated, in fact.

She walked toward him, those firm, smooth thighs and the perfect tilt of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s making his mouth water. When she moved around his desk, she scooted onto the edge right in front Of him. The idea of her bare a.s.s on that polished mahogany sent electricity rus.h.i.+ng through him. G.o.d, he wanted her. He'd always wanted her.

She inclined her head, causing her long silky hair to fall across one delicious t.i.t. "You give me what I want and I'll give you this... once."

His c.o.c.k twitched. Once would be enough. "Name it." His respiration grew ragged. He wanted to touch her. But he held back. This was business. He wouldn't do anything but look until he knew the terms.

"It's very simple." Her scent was driving him crazy. "Your father had a secret that you've been keeping for him for a very long time. You continue to keep that one secret and we'll have a deal."

He scrubbed a shaky hand over his jaw. He didn't see a problem. What the h.e.l.l? "Which secret?"

She licked those lush, red-painted lips and then smiled. Her arms draped around his neck and drew his face close to that beautiful mouth. She whispered the words in his ear.

He should have known.

She drew back, widened her thighs enough for him to get a better view of her negotiable a.s.set. "Do we have a deal?"

Time for him to reclaim control. He had a reputation after all. "What makes you think you can trust me to hold up my end of the bargain?" He kept his hands at his sides, no matter that his fingers itched to molest her in every imaginable fas.h.i.+on.

"Like I said, you've been keeping this one a very long time." Her hand settled on his fly, rubbed his thick c.o.c.k. "I'm certain it'll continue to keep."

He wanted to hold out a little longer, make her beg, buta" his gaze traveled over that perfect skina"that wasn't happening. What she said was true. He had kept this particular secret for a very long time. And now he intended to have some fun with it.

"Deal," he agreed. At least it was a deal until he decided differently. This b.i.t.c.h should know better than to trust him.

She smiled, purred like a little harmless kitten. "Excellent." She lowered his zipper, reached inside. "Just one last thing, baby." Those skilled fingers wrapped around him, made him groan. "Tell me how you want it."

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

5:10 p.m.

Emily parked across the road from Austin's house. Her an-tiperspirant had long since melted in the ninety-eight-degree heat. Even with every window in the car open and the shade from the maples, her clothes plastered to her skin in five minutes flat. She skimmed the list of most frequently violated parole conditions she'd made, but she couldn't seem to concentrate on that. She needed to understand what was going on with her father.

Every instinct warned that her father's business with Fair-gate somehow related to Austin. That weasel Fairgate had said her father had kept his secret all these years. But Fairgate could be toying with her. She could be reading too much between the lines. Coupled with the rumors floating around regarding Austin's innocence, doubt as to what she thought she knew had taken far too formidable a foothold.

Fairgate was the only loan shark in town. That both Ed Wallace and Clint Austin had been involved with him wasn't such a stretch. Except for the idea that that this was her father she was talking about. He didn't do shady.

She needed answers. All these years she had focused on Heather's murder and keeping Austin behind bars. Had her parents needed her and she hadn't been there?

Her gaze settled on the house across the road. If she asked him for information regarding Fairgate, would he tell her what he knew? She had to be out of her mind to even consider it. But then she was desperate. The idea that her parents needed her help had shaken her from the obsession that had been her whole existence for more than a decade.

Her heart rate accelerated at the idea of getting close enough to him to carry on a conversation. She closed her eyes and blocked the sensations. All those years he'd been in prison she'd hated him... wanted him to die. Now he was out and she couldn't stop those d.a.m.ned feelings she'd thought were dead and buried. That she could still feel attracted to him made her sick with shame.

Maybe she was losing it. Her eyes popped open. Maybe her parents were right and she did need Dr. Brown.

No. It was being here, in Pine Bluff, surrounded by all those crazy rumors about Austin's innocence, getting to her. Had to be. She was doubting herself, that was all.

Austin's red Firebird appeared in her rearview mirror, roaring along the dirt road, dust flying behind it. He slowed when he neared her car, turned unhurriedly into his drive without looking in her direction, parked in his usual spot, and went inside the house.

If she worked, up the nerve to ask him about Fairgate, Austin would just lie to her even if he knew the truth. She was the last person on earth he would want to help. He should be the last person she would ask for help. She had to get her head on straight and start thinking clearly.

Her brain abruptly registered Austin exiting the house.

Where was he going now? So far he'd come home each evening and stayed put, at least until she left at ten or so. He hadn't changed clothes. Same worn jeans hugging his long legs and grease-stained T-s.h.i.+rt stretched over his muscled torso that he'd been wearing when he got out of the car.

"What is he doing?" she muttered.

He strode right past his car and down the drive.

Toward the road... toward hera"

Instinct had her grabbing her cell phone. She jerked it loose from the charger, her pulse reacting to an adrenaline dump as Austin crossed the road. She sat there and watched him come closer... something implacable and lethal in his stride. As he neared her car, the fury on his face... in his eyes registered. Her danger gauge abruptly kicked in full throttle. The real fear she should have felt ten seconds prior tore through the dim-witted curiosity muddling her good sense.

He stopped at her door, glared down at her with such ferocity that the oxygen stalled deep in her chest. "Get out of the car."

For an instant she couldn't find her voice. The way he looked at her... such anger... such... pain. Confusion scattered her thoughts. "Stay away or I'll call the police." Her voice shook as badly as her hands.

His jaw tightened with that fury blazing in his eyes. "Call 'em. Call right now."

He hadn't made a move to open her door or even touch her vehicle, but she couldn't be sure he wouldn't do just that any second now. He was in a rage. Was this the kind of rage he'd been in when he entered her room uninvited that night? Her mind argued with her... he'd looked terrified that night... frantic. Nothing like this.

Her fingers fumbled across the keypad. When the 911 dispatcher had finished her spiel, Emily gave her location and asked that the police be sent right away.

She closed her phone and reluctantly met his gaze once more. "The police are on the way." She meant to warn him to step back from her car, but the words got stuck in her throat. The fury she'd seen seconds ago had dissolved into something she couldn't readily identify. A mixture of pain and... desperation she couldn't adequately a.s.sess.

He thrust his fingers through his hair and backed away from her car, but his eyes, hollow with grief, didn't leave hers.

A s.h.i.+ver rushed over her skin, prompted by a chill wind from the grave even as she sat sweating in this d.a.m.ned car. Some crazy part of her urged her to do something... to reach out to him. Before she could stop the reaction, she'd gotten out of the car. "What's wrong with you?" Her voice was small, fragile.

"Why?"

The anguish in that one syllable unsettled something lodged so deep inside her that she couldn't respond. What was happening to her?

"Why?" he repeated, fury conquering the agony. He moved in closer, trapping her against the car. "Why did you do this?"

She trembled as her senses reacted to the raw masculinity of his nearness. She told herself it was the fear that had stolen the very air from her lungs ... but that was a lie. It was him... just like before when she'd dreamed of being so close to him... of being the one he wanted. An ache pierced her. Oh, G.o.d, how could her emotions betray her like this?

Her hands went against his chest as if that action could somehow stop this insanity. She mustered her voice: "Move."