In the Company of Liars by David Ellis Read Free Book Online

often, preferring fresh food. But since her arrest, she has noticed the discomfort in virtually every acquaintance. The averted glances, the awkward silences. It’s gotten to the point where she avoids them as much as they avoid her. So now she shops at a chain store, where she is relatively unknown. Say that much for the city. One in a million is actually an understatement. It provides her relative freedom.
    Very relative. She has to stay within five miles of her home at all times, a condition of her bond. She had to get permission to get a tire changed last week.
    She carries a small basket and places a few vegetables in it. She eats meat, used to love it, but these days the idea of being a carnivore seems ironic. She walks past the bakery, past the butcher, toward the drugstore. There is a small coffee shop in the corner, the grocery chain’s attempt at modernization. She finds Larry Evans reading a newspaper at a small table. Two steaming paper cups of black coffeesit on the table. He looks over his glasses at her and smiles. She recognizes it for what it is, not a happy-go-lucky grin but an attempt at warmth. Not very many people smile at Allison Pagone these days.
    â€œHow you holding up?” he asks.
    She puts down the groceries and sits across from him. “How do I look like I’m holding up?”
    He sets down the newspaper. “Honestly?”
    She sighs. “Don’t start lying to me now, Larry. You’re the only one I can trust.”
    â€œYou look tired. Did you sleep at all?”
    He’s being honest, if not entirely forthcoming; he is omitting a few other adjectives. Allison has forced herself to look in the mirror lately. She has seen the damage.
    Larry flicks at his hair. He is dishwater blond, has a rugged, lined face. He has a good-sized frame, not a body-builder but a guy who keeps in shape. He hasn’t shaved today; his facial hair is darker than the hair on top of his head. She would probably find him handsome under other circumstances—very, very different circumstances.
    She takes a sip of the coffee, steaming hot on her tongue. Something nutty, she assumes. Cinnamon hazelnut, she guesses, then looks over at the small chalkboard next to the counter, where the coffee of the day is revealed in colored chalk: Cinn-ful Walnut . Clever.
    â€œYou look like someone who’s conceding defeat,” he says. “And I don’t like that. I don’t get it, Allison. I just don’t get you.”
    â€œWhat’s not to get? I’m going to be convicted.” She averts her eyes. She looks at the other shoppers, immediately envying their carefree lives. An employee is pushing turkey sausage, pierced with toothpicks, on shoppers. The next aisle down, it’s hummus, about ten different kinds offered with pita chips. Little kids hanging on carts, women moving seriously through the aisles. They don’t knowanything about serious. She would change places with any of them.
    â€œThat doesn’t have to—”
    â€œOh, don’t deny it, Larry. Please,” she adds, more softly.
    He reaches for her, then recoils. “What happened to your hand?”
    Allison holds up her right hand, wrapped in gauze. “Lost a fight with a wineglass.”
    Larry peers into her eyes. “You sure you’re okay?”
    She nods. “I’ll be fine as long as you don’t tell me I’m going to win my case.”
    Larry looks away, exhales with disgust. “Did you even show your lawyer what I found?” he asks. “Did you think at all about all that stuff I found? You show that to a judge and you’ll be acquitted—”
    â€œLook.” Allison scoots her chair from the table, holds her hands up. “Look. I’m not going to debate you, Larry. Okay?”
    Larry watches her. She can only imagine the package she’s presenting today. She showered before coming but she’s still a train wreck in every way. She