The Murder That Never Was (Forensic Instincts 5)

Lisa nodded.

“Me, too.” Julie glanced down. “At least we don’t have the same birthday. I’ve got three months on you—assuming the date you gave is also real?”

“That’s the date the nuns who found me gave to foster care,” Lisa responded. “Everything on the page you’re reading is as true as I’ve been told.”

“Fair enough.” Julie leaned forward, folding her hands on the table in front of her, indicating that the compassionate part of the interview was over. “You fabricated the rest of this resume.”

Lisa played the innocent very well. “What do you mean?”

“I watched you when we came in here and were seated. You had no comfort level with that hostess at all. But you were beyond patient with our fairly inept waitress. You practically jumped up and wrote the order down for her. It’s not a leap to figure out what you really did at your restaurant jobs.”

Lisa knew when she’d been caught. So there was no point in lying. “Mostly, I was a waitress. I was also a coat check girl. And, for the record, I worked my ass off at all those jobs. Oh, and before you cut this interview short, I wasn’t a manager of any kind at the supermarkets. I was a cashier.”

“And the nanny part?”

“A glorified babysitter—not that I see a difference.”

Julie’s lips twitched. “As long as you’ve decided to drop the pretense, I have another important question for you. Do you do drugs?”

“I have in the past,” Lisa replied. “Weed. Coke. And, yeah, I’ve gotten in trouble because of it. But that’s over now. I’m clean.” All that was true. And there was more—none of which Julie needed to know. She’d been young and stupid and desperate. But she’d managed to slam the door on that chapter of her life.

Julie scrutinized her intently, then said, “I believe you,” and continued on. “In your opinion, do you think you can handle the job I suggested?”

Lisa’s brows shot up. “Are you still considering hiring me? Even after you know how much I exaggerated my resume?”

“Not all of it,” Julie reminded her. “Your personal background is real—and can be verified, I assume?”

“Sure.” Lisa shrugged. “Go for it. None of that is fiction or an exaggeration.”

“Then I repeat my question—given the very basic jobs you’ve held, do you think you can handle the one I suggested to Kristen?”

Amusement danced in Lisa’s eyes. “Being poor and having those basic jobs, I’ve been around people who were richer than me all my life—as a child and as an adult. I know how to cater to them. But I’ll also read any manual, policies, or instructions you give me and have them memorized overnight. My brain just kind of does that by itself.”

“That’s impressive. Are you trustworthy?”

It was a legitimate question. Still, Lisa’s brows shot up again. “Are you kidding? Do you think I’d steal from the only place that’s offered me a job in two weeks? I’d have to be a complete moron to do that.”

“Good point.” That glint of empathy was back in Julie’s eyes. “I’ll make you a deal. You need a job. I’ll urge Kristen to hire you. In return, I need another pair of hands. I just moved to a new place a few miles from here. It needs some work, and I need some help doing it. I work in two separate, completely different gyms, which means very long hours. I don’t have the time to fix the place up myself. You can move in for a while—it’s big enough for two people—unless, of course, you’re already situated?”

Lisa thought of the dumpy motel she’d been staying in. The decaying walls. The combined stench of sex and sweat. The bugs that Lisa had no desire to identify. The gross, leering pervs outside the place who eyed her up and down every time she came or went, yelling out suggestive, horny remarks.

The place was a shithole. And Lisa had been counting her dollars as she prayed and planned to get out of there.

“No, I’m flexible on that score,” she said, probably too quickly.

If Julie sensed her desperation, she didn’t let on.

“Good,” she replied. “Then you can move in right away. In the meantime, you can borrow some of my clothes. You need the right look—clothes, makeup, etc.—to work at our gym.”

“I get it. Time to go classy.” Lisa was staring at Julie, stupefied. “You’d really do all that for me?”

“Actually, yes. There’s something about you I like. Maybe it’s the resemblance, which I get a kick out of. Maybe it’s because you’re straightforward. You didn’t bullshit your way out of it when I confronted you with the truth. Yes, you doctored your resume, but it was out of desperation, not greed. And you did a hell of a job, by the way. You might lack experience, but you’re smart. I think you’d be a good addition to the staff. And I think you deserve a chance. Just don’t screw it up.”

“I won’t.” Lisa had felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted off her shoulders.

Instead of reveling in her newfound opportunity, she did what she always did—shot off her stupid, impulsive mouth.

“Trusting me at work is one thing, but how do you know I won’t steal your money and rob your house?” She wanted to kick herself even as she said the words.