Dirty Lies

FEAR

I swam laps in the pool. The cool water washed away the tension of the morning.

Skylar was right. I was running from my fears. How was it a woman I'd met a month ago had cut through all the bullshit and diagnosed what was in my heart? I smiled when I thought of Skylar's phone call about seeing the body. She was so funny. I also remembered my excitement and panic when I'd seen my first homicide scene.

The thought of having Skylar call with her reporting tales every day made me grin wider. And what if we shared our workdays over dinner and then woke up next to each other every morning? Wouldn't that be something?

I dove underwater, a fantasy flashing through my mind. A wedding, maybe on a beach somewhere. Skylar, pregnant with my child. A house filled with love. Maybe a normal life was within reach.

What had changed? Why was I now open to love when I'd resisted it before? It was baffling that I was so willing to let Skylar into my heart when I'd rejected so many other women. It must be the incredible sexual and mental connection between us, an incalculable mixture of need, chemistry, and karma.

Or maybe it was because Skylar also inspired me to be a better man.

Climbing out of the pool and toweling off, I had the urge to call my uncle and apologize. Yes, that's what I'd do. It's what Skylar would want. I hadn't been fair to Federico.

I picked up the cell and saw Skylar had called, and that I had a few alerts from her Twitter feed. I swiped to the tweets. She was so quick in posting information.

Palmira Chief says large alligator was near body when officers arrived.

I smiled. Crazy shit.

Murder victim was likely in swamp for days, officials said.

I tapped on her next tweet.

Palmira Chief identifies man as thirty-year-old Gianni Innocenti of Naples, Italy.

My fingers fumbled and nearly dropped the phone in disbelief. Innocenti was one of Bruno Castiglione's men. A low-level thug. A low-profile one too. A rush of sheer panic gripped me so hard, I felt a tightening in my chest.

Looking around, I suddenly felt too exposed in the bright sunlight of the pool deck. Head bent, I walked inside and made sure every door was locked and every window was darkened.

Oh fuck.

The gun was in the glove box of the Mercedes. With Skylar.

Skylar. Was she safe?

I dialed her number and exhaled when she answered.

"Luca. Hey. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Amore mio, you need to come back to my house now. I can't talk about it, but trust me. Please?" I didn't want to reveal more for fear someone was tapping our phones. Was that possible?

"Luca, I'm on deadline. I'll be done in about a half hour." She paused, and I heard urgency in her voice. "I need to ask you a few things, but I don't want to do it over the phone. I'll be there soon."

"Skylar. Now."

"I know," she said. "But I have to finish this story. I'll be there as soon as I can. Stay safe."

Her voice had an edge, and she hung up.

Stay safe?

Was she aware of the danger? I shook my head, thinking about how Skylar had a stubborn streak. There she was in her newsroom, filing her story. The thought of her being in danger sent a howling panic through me.

I drank a beer, hoping to calm my nerves, and wished I hadn't smoked all the Marlboros I'd bought after the big fight with Skylar. I paced the dark house for thirty minutes and was making another loop around my bedroom, about to call her again, when the doorbell rang and the phone in my hands vibrated almost simultaneously. My heart sped up even more when I picked up.

"I'm at the door," Skylar said.

"Be right down."

I flung the door open and pulled her inside. "Give me the keys," I demanded.

She did, and I ran to the car. Thank God the gun was still there. I moved the Mercedes into the garage.

I walked back inside, not even trying to conceal the weapon.

"Luca, oh my God. What is that?" She gaped, and backed up a few steps.

I locked the door and turned to her. "Uh, it's a gun. We need to talk."

Her bottom lip quivered, and she gulped in air. She hiccuped a few breaths, then tears slid down her cheeks. Oh shit. She'd seen a dead body in the swamp and now this. I hadn't meant to scare her.

I gingerly rested the gun on a table near the door and took her in my arms. "Amore mio, please don't be scared. I'd never hurt you. Ever. Quite the opposite. Please stop crying."

She shuddered in a breath. "This is about Gianni, isn't it?"

"Yes."

She swore and shook her head. "The motel manager said he was waiting to meet his girlfriend. That he was a nice guy. A tourist."

"Skylar, he works for Bruno Castiglione."

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