A Shred of Truth by Eric Wilson Read Free Book Online

I slid my fingers down. Stroked her warm skin. Was she the culprit? The question had to be asked, but our years of shared history were all the answer I needed.
    She simply didn’t have it in her.
    Really? You’ve been a fool before, you know
.
    My fingers tightened into cuffs around her wrists. “There’s something you’re not telling me, Felicia.” Twisting her around, I pressed her against the wall and put my mouth close to her ear. Her hair smelled like flowers—or was that only the scent of the gardens outside?—and my rough actions sent a pang of guilt through me. “Cough it up. Just tell me why you showed up here today.”
    “Please, doll, don’t treat me like this.”
    I tried to recall my training in social psych. Had I learned anything about sifting out falsehood from fact? She yelped as I pushed harder. “I want some answers, darlin’. You hear me? The truth. Did you hurt my brother?”
    “Why would you ask such a thing?”
    “You didn’t cut him up last night?”
    She stiffened. “Have I ever hurt anyone?”
    “He was attacked. The letters AX mean anything to you?”
    “Like an ax?”
    “You heard me. Someone told you to come, am I right?”
    She fell silent.
    “Who sent you?”
    “This guy.”
    “What guy?”
    “I can’t say. It wouldn’t have been his real name anyway.”
    “You can’t? Or won’t?”
    “You’re hurting my arm.”
    “Have you seen him? Seen his face?”
    “I … He said his name was Axman. Please, Aramis, you’re hurting me.”
    “What’s he look like? Sound like? Describe him for me.”
    “There’s nothing to say. We talked on the phone. He told me he’d kill me if I didn’t do as he said or went to the cops. I wanted to see you, and at first he made it sound like you and I might work things out. He said he knew you. He sent me cash for my airfare, told me to buy some new clothes and come meet you.”
    “There must’ve been a catch.”
    “You were the catch. He was going to hurt you.”
    “No, that was your job.”
    “I know I left you, but please believe that I never stopped thinking about us.”
    “Blah-de-blah. So what’s this guy want from you?”
    “I’m supposed to give you this.” Trapped in my grip, she leaned her head forward against the wall. The hat scooted back off her head and onto my chest.
    “Is this a joke?”
    “He taped something inside.” Still captive, she craned around with a pleading look. “You have to obey the instructions if you want to know the truth.”
    “Whatever.”
    I released her to search the hat, telling myself it had nothing to do with the tears. Nothing at all. Not her quivering lip or the memories she sent racing through my head.
    Footsteps clicked down the hall, and I caught a glimpse of the security guard’s polished shoes. A rent-a-cop? Or the real deal? The museum contained a fortune in art, but I’d never heard of a theft occurring here. What would he think of a crying woman pressed against the wall by a swarthy-looking man with tattooed forearms?
    I corralled Felicia into an embrace and planted a long kiss on her mouth.
    Call me quick on my feet. Call me unoriginal. Either way, it worked. Despite our age difference, she’d always been submissive. Even now, her stiffness melted into a willing response, and I discovered the hopes still trapped there, written across her lips like heat-activated ink.
    “Folks.” The guard cleared his throat. “We’ll be closing in fifteen minutes.”
    I disengaged, waved a hand. “Thanks.”
    “We do suggest visitors leave before the gates lock at four thirty.”
    “Okay.”
    “And please,” he said with a frown, “don’t brush against the walls.”
    “Yes sir. I mean, no sir.”
    He walked away with clicking strides toward the next room.
    Felicia put both hands on my chest. “That was nice.”
    “Tasted salty to me.”
    “Oh, quit it. I see through the macho facade.”
    “Macho. That’s me.”
    “You haven’t changed.” She pushed away. “I