Captured Lies by Maggie Thom Read Free Book Online Page A

the end of the bed, in the corner.
    Immediately she heard her mom’s
voice, ‘you have to put your stuff away. It’ll get wrinkled. There’s no one to
pick up behind you. And don’t expect it. You have to do it yourself. You’re not
royalty you know.’
    Every chore since she could
remember had been followed by that statement.
    Bailey flopped backwards onto the
bed, her arms flung out at her side. “Ouch.” Sitting up, she pulled out the
hair clip she’d carelessly put in that morning. She tossed it on the bedside
stand and finger-combed her straight, brown hair. She tugged on it and then
winced. Something finally felt real.
    Lots of things floated through
her mind. The only thing she kept coming back to was that she should call one
of her friends. Only what would she say? She could tell them what was going on.
But not really. She’d never really talked with the two of them about her mom.
Her mom had always sworn her to secrecy about telling anything about her
history – where they’d lived, what kind of work her mom had done, who her dad
was - which she didn’t know anyway, where she went to school, where her
relatives lived, sometimes even what her real name was.
    Everything was always a damn
secret. Even your death.
    Tired and wrung out, Bailey
closed her eyes. Tears trickled out, ran down her face and into her hair.
There’d be no more jokes between them – not that there had been many in a long
time. Or ever really for that matter.
    Now she’d have the fun of dealing
with all of her mom’s legal stuff. She didn’t know where to start but she
shrugged off the dilemma and yawned. She should get up and shed her coat, her
navy blue pantsuit, her shoes… maybe put on pajamas. The thoughts rolled
through her head every now and then but didn’t have enough impact to propel her
upwards. Her body remained flopped and probably wouldn’t move even if a fire
alarm went off. If she was lucky, sleep would come quickly and then she’d wake
up to find out she’d had a bad dream. Her nightmare would be just that. She
could call her mom and make up with her. Forgive her for being so damn
obstinate. Something they definitely had in common.
    Her mom’s face with one of her
rare smiles flashed through her mind. Just as quickly her mom lying in the
casket soon followed. When did it end? Her body might have been resting but her
brain wouldn’t shut down. Thoughts continued to swirl for a long time, until
all that was left was exhaustion, pulling her down a deep dark hole.
     

 
     
    CHAPTER SEVEN
     
     
    The phone rang.
    Guy shifted in his seat.
    It rang again.
    He slouched against the car door.
    It rang again.
    He stared off into space,
thinking he should be used to this by now but he always seemed to forget her
little quirk of deciding when she’d answer.
    Then came the fourth ring. “Yes.”
    Her tone made him feel like he’d
been the one keeping her waiting. “It’s her, Gramama. No mistake.”
    Silence. Hesitation. He knew she
was torn. On one hand, wanting it to be true; on the other, she knew what this
information would do to her family. “What’s she like? What does she know about
the kidnapping? How greedy is she?” His grandmother’s voice sounded abrupt,
angry.
    He blew out an exasperated
breath. “I haven’t really had a chance to go through much with her. I don’t
think she knows anything.”
    “What does she look like? And
don’t tell me ‘just like Mama did.’ I know she’s the spitting image of my
mother. What color is her hair? Is she a real brunette or is it dyed? Her eyes?
Are they as green-blue as a mountain lake? How much money does she want?”
    There was a loud whack sound. He
jerked the phone away from his ear. She’d hit her cane against the cherry wood
Montclair Credenza desk in her office, a bad habit he’d like her to stop. Or
just break her cane. She needed it but really used it more as a weapon or
instrument to keep people in line than as the crutch it was supposed to