Liar Liar

‘You might not have fractured your skull, but you must’ve broken your fucking head,’ he grumbles, frowning across at me. ‘So, you gave her a house. Not just any house, but your grandparents’ chateau. Hasn’t it been in the family for years?’

‘It was. Until Emile sold it before I was born.’

‘But you bought it back last year, right?’

Because I could.

‘It’s just real estate. Bricks and mortar.’ And a place we’ll make beautiful memories, I hope. Because since my balls had decided Rose and I would make beautiful small humans, I haven’t been able to shake away the thoughts of her swollen with our child. I’ve no idea what to do with these thoughts, except dwell on them some more.

‘I suppose you can always take the cost out of her inheritance.’ His gaze flicks around the space, the action casual. I won’t hold my breath for the punchline though I know it’s coming. ‘Because you must’ve told her about that by now. Right? And that you don’t exactly know how she comes to be in your life.’

‘I no longer care why. I’m just grateful that she is.’

‘Near-death experiences will turn a man a little philosophical, so I’ve heard. You’ll get over it.’ I imagine his words are supposed to sting like an insult. But he should have learned long before now that I really don’t care for the opinions of others. Rose being a recent exception to this fact.

‘I had an email from the investigator. He says he’s had a couple of breakthroughs. He wants to know if you want to meet face-to-face or if he should just courier the intel over.’

‘Neither. Pay him his fee but tell him I no longer have need of his services.’

‘You don’t really mean that.’

‘Bring me these breakthroughs, and I’ll burn the envelope without looking.’

‘No worries. We have this magical transportation of image and text these days. It’s called email.’

‘Even easier to delete.’

‘You just don’t want to know the truth, in case it proves to be inconvenient.’

‘Don’t take me for a fool. I don’t need proof of Rose’s innocence in any of this, so if you came here to goad me, you’re wasting both of our time.’ She even thinks the money she went travelling with came from the death of a distant relative—she offered up the information without the slightest concern, without an ounce of artifice. She’s guilty of nothing but naiveté.

‘I came to see how you’re doing, arsehole.’ He inhales and spreads his fingers wide on his thighs. ‘I also came to tell you the CCTV footage came back from the marina.’

My head twists, and is followed by another painful twinge. ‘Did it show anything?’

‘Not much. People milling around. A few drunks. The sight of you making your way to Le Loup, but the angle isn’t right to show you boarding.’

‘What aren’t you telling me?’ I’ve known Rhett too long for him to begin hiding things from me now.

‘There was a figure. A man. Walking in the direction of the yacht before you arrived. He had something in his hand that we think might’ve been a crowbar.’

‘Or perhaps an umbrella.’

‘It would be an odd thing to be carrying around in the middle of summer, and at that time of night. Plus, the footage shows him leaving around the same time you were found in the water. He wasn’t carrying anything at that point.’

I still for a moment, my mind processing the implications before I realise I’ve raised my hand, my fingers hovering above the wound on the back of my head. I lower it again, noting Rhett’s curious look. I have no intention of telling him that I still suffer from headaches, or that my concentration is poor. I’m told the symptoms will last another week. Or perhaps much longer. I push away the residual negativity caused by my doctor’s earlier visit. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that sheer will gets a man much farther than most people recognise.

‘It could be someone taking a tool to their boat, then leaving without it.’

‘Possible,’ he agrees. ‘But not probable. Not that time of night.’

‘And the passerelle?’ I know he will have arranged divers to search for it.

‘No outward signs of tampering to the sunken railing. No signs of an abandoned crowbar, either,’ he adds with an unhappy huff. ‘But then, if I was going to crown you one, I wouldn’t drop the weapon into the same body of water afterwards.’

‘If you wanted to commit murder, you mean.’

‘And make it look like an accident.’

We both fall silent, retreating into our individual thoughts. Though one of us not recently suffering an attempt on their life has less to think about, evidently.

‘Benny boy called with a million questions.’

‘He’s been to the house.’ I resist the urge to shrug. ‘You know he likes to think he knows all. Sees all. Everything has an angle with him.’