The Art of Lying [Jai Brooks]

-chapter 11-

Veronica Reynolds

Ten Days After

"Roni" his voice is timid, fearful almost. What is it like back there now that the news has broke?

"Jai" I breathe, my heart pounding, waiting to hear about the sordid lies and rumours that were bound to spread. 'Veronica Reynolds killer' the title flashes through my mind as if on a news broadcast, I see a picture of me, my mug shot, only it doesn't look like me, the verbally and mentally tortured innocent that crumbled under pressure.

"Does your offer still stand?" he asks, almost a whisper. I want to ask him about what's happened, I want to ask what's being said about us, I want to know how bad it is but right now all we both need is understanding and comfort and none of my interrogative questions are going to give us that.

"Of course, I'll send the tickets via e-mail and I'll text you the address" I tell him, my words rushed. I open my internet browser and search for the next flights leaving from LAX that'll arrive at JFK

"Roni" he breathes

"Yeah?"

"Thank you" he sighs with relief, my heart aches at his gratitude and suddenly I don't even want to know how bad it is back there. All I know is that it's bad enough for Jai Brooks to surrender his gratitude to someone other than himself, that's enough.

"The next flight is at 5:30am, its 1:30am now right?, do you think you'll make it?" I ask him, preparing to book the flight

"Couldn't be soon enough" he says

"I'll have a car pick you up from JFK at 3:00pm, it'll bring you directly to the house" I tell him, I begin to e-mail the ticket details, first class flight to JFK with Virgin Airlines, departure from LAX 5:30am, lands at JFK 2:00pm New York time

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow then" he whispers

"You will" I smile even though he can't see it "and Jai" I stop him before he ends the call, he takes a sharp intake of breath "everything will be okay"

"Maybe it will" he lies before ending the call.

I've been in New York four days, four days was enough for me to initially greet my father and spend a day lying through my teeth, taking the opportunity to remember how our relationship was before I told him. I knew that as soon as I told him that he'd look at me differently, and he did.

[Four days earlier]

We sit down at the dining room table, plates of food in front of us as the help ushers in and out of the room, refilling our glasses that seem to empty quickly. My heart thuds, faster and faster as the apprehension builds inside of me.

"So tell me, how is your course going at ULA? I know things must be tough-" he begins but I cut him off, tired of the pretence. I can't lie to him any longer.

"Dad" I breathe, tears prickling my eyes "There's something I have to tell you"

He hesitates before taking another mouthful of food. "And what is that?" he asks, I can hear the tremble in his voice, he can sense my fear and I know it scares him. I look to the help who wait by the doors, waiting to be called to assistance; I nod in gesture for them to leave. My dad drops his cutlery so that it clatters against his plate. "Veronica?"

"The night Rachel Kay was murdered, I saw her. I was with her, we argued, harsh words were exchanged, people heard. Two days later I was called into question" a tear bounces down my cheek, my lower lip trembles "I am a suspect in her murder case dad"