Body of Lies by Deirdre Savoy Read Free Book Online

got up from her perch on the sofa, and went to the door to lock it.
    For a moment, she leaned her back against the wooden surface, breathing deeply. He was gone. That’s what she’d wanted from the moment he’d shown up at her door. The only thing marring her relief was the notion that she’d hurt him by dismissing him so abruptly. That wasn’t her plan, but she knew that’s what she’d accomplished. Oh well, she’d have to live with that, since as much as he felt he had to answer for, if she let him in, he’d want answers as well. They weren’t kids anymore. He’d expect the truth from her, and that she couldn’t give him. She wouldn’t go back, wouldn’t revisit the past, not for anyone, not even him. She’d barely survived it the first time.
    Better to let him think she blamed him than to risk opening the past to scrutiny. That’s what she told herself, anyway, as she pushed off the door, ascended the stairs, and got into bed. But she lay in bed a long time, watching the patterns cast by the headlights of passing cars dance on her bedroom walls.
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    Zach sat in his car, still staring up at the house long after the light in Alex’s bedroom window had flickered on and off. Or, rather, the bedroom that had been hers a lifetime ago. It surprised him that she still used it. Why hadn’t she moved into the larger bedroom at the back of the house? Sammy was long dead and the house was hers to do with what she liked.
    Mentally, Zach shrugged. Wondering about Alex’s sleep arrangements was only a distraction from what really bothered him. He’d known she wouldn’t welcome him into her home, but he hadn’t expected her to throw him out so roundly, at least not before he got out any of the things he wanted to tell her—words that now tumbled through his mind but none of which had made it out of his mouth. At least he’d gotten to give her some sort of apology even if it wasn’t what she deserved.
    The expression “too little, too late” came to his mind. That’s what anything he could say to her now would be. He accepted that, just as he accepted that coming here had served one purpose only, that of making himself feel better. So far, even that was a bust.
    His gaze shifted to the entrance to the house. A five-foot wire and post fence guarded the perimeter of the property that had once belonged to Samuel Yates. As realty spaces went, it wasn’t a large plot; big enough for a patch of lawn out front, a barbecue pit and an inground pool out back, but not much else. The house itself wasn’t large either, but big enough to feel like a real home.
    He’d once asked Sammy why he’d bought this house, in the shade of million-dollar homes in Riverdale, when elsewhere in the Bronx he could have gotten more for his money. He’d said, “I bought the best house I could afford in the best neighborhood. You can’t do any better than that.” That was Sammy; everything he owned or liked or respected was the best, including Sammy himself. His way was the right way; his ideas were the best ideas. No one was a better cop than he was.
    Rumors abounded that Sammy’s bullheadedness had earned him his nickname, but there were other stories, flattering in a way that only other cops appreciate: Sammy was built like the proverbial bull with beefy shoulders, a broad muscular back, and a thick midsection. By the time Zach met him, his hair had thinned in such a way that the tufts remaining at the top of his head stood up like horns when not slicked down.
    Some said that Sammy could fell any door he put one of his massive shoulders to. According to Sammy, that one had started when he burst through a steel-plated door to get to the victim of a child snatching that had been traced to that location. Sammy attributed his feat to being hopped up on adrenaline, too much caffeine, and too little sleep to think before