The Liar

Forrest said nothing as Griff set the next spacers, carefully applied more adhesive to the subfloor.

“Is it my understanding you’re planning to marry my sister?”

Griff sat back again, rolled his shoulders, circled his neck. “What do you think of this room?”

Obliging, Forrest straightened up, took a turn around the bedroom area. “Nice space, windows ought to give nice light, good views. Damn big closet for a secondary sort of bedroom. Window seat’s a nice touch, like having its own bathroom. That tile you’re laying ought to give it some glow.”

“I’m thinking of a slipper tub for in here, and a vanity with an under-counter oval sink. I’m after plenty of storage with a small footprint. Recessed medicine cabinet over the vanity—more storage there, but frame it in to give it some style. And some bling with the lighting.”

“Slipper tub and bling? Sounds female.”

“Yeah. Pale, warm green for the bedroom walls, echo off the bathroom lighting for the ceiling fan with light kit.”

“The bling.”

“That’s right. I’m going to do a small built-in for the closet, along with the rods and shelves.”

Nodding, Forrest took another turn around, began to see it.

“You’re putting this room together for Callie.”

“Green’s her favorite color, she tells me. That Shrek obsession of hers, that’s bound to pass eventually. But it’s a good color for her, and for a bedroom. A few years down the road, having her own bathroom’s going to matter to her.”

“And you’re a man who looks down the road.”

“I am. I’m in love with both of them, and being a trained observer, you know that already. Callie’s there with me; Shelby’s just gotta catch up. She’ll catch up quicker, I think, if we can put this shitstorm the fucker left her in behind her.”

“What if she doesn’t catch up?”

“I wait. She’s the one, so that’s that. And Callie? The kid just lights me up. She deserves me. They both do. I’m a hell of a catch.”

“Shit, Griff, if you had tits, I’d marry you myself.”

“There you go.” Seeing he’d reached the point where he’d have to measure and cut tile, Griff pushed to his feet. “I’m taking a break, tossing a sandwich together. You want one?”

“Thanks, but I’ve got a couple more things to do, and a hell of a lot better waiting in leftovers at my mama’s once I do them.”

“We’ll walk down with you. Come on, Snick. Time for patrol.”

The dog waved his feet in the air, did an ungainly rollover, then scrambled up.

“One of these days I’m going to get me a dog,” Forrest said as they started down with Snickers racing down the steps, halfway up, down again.

“Snick’s litter mates are gone, but I saw a sign for beagle pups on the turn at Black Bear and Dry Creek.”

“It’s not one of these days yet. I’m not home enough, and I don’t think the sheriff would approve of me taking a dog for ride-alongs.” Forrest glanced at the security panel as they passed it. “What do you figure on doing if this fancy new security system goes off?”

Griff shrugged as he opened the front door. “Call you—and get my pipe wrench. It’s got weight.”

“A shotgun’s going to carry more weight than a pipe wrench, son.”

“Don’t have one, don’t want one.”

“City boy.”

Griff breathed in the night while the dog ran over the patch of grass to the verge of the woods where the stream bubbled.

“Not anymore, but I still don’t want a gun.”

He looked west to the faint blush of pink the setting sun painted on the clouds that smoked over the mountains. “I never had any trouble here. Worried about it some when I had all that copper for rewiring and plumbing. That stuff’s like gold and easy to transport. But nothing but that once, and that’s direct to the fucker and the shitstorm.”

Like his friend, Forrest looked west, toward color and cloud. “You’ve got a good spot here, Griff. It’s got a feel to it, appealing, settled. But it’s a fact it’d take a solid ten minutes for us to respond to that nine-one-one should you call for it. You can load a shotgun with rock salt if you’re feeling dainty about things.”

“I’ll leave the firearms to you, Deputy. I’m damn good with a pipe wrench.”

“Suit yourself.”

He would, Griff thought as he stood in the quiet, letting the dog run and sniff, watching the first star wink to life in a sky gone the color of pale purple velvet.

Suiting himself was just what he was doing. So he’d go fix that sandwich, then finish the tile in Callie’s bathroom.

“Front porch swing,” he said, and bent to rub the dog when Snickers raced back to him. “Maybe I’ll build one. Things mean more when you build them. Let’s eat and think about that.”

If he’d known while he sat in the kitchen eating a sandwich and doing some rough sketches of swings that someone was watching through field glasses, he might have changed his mind about the shotgun.

27

It took time to finish the room he wanted for Callie, to build a front porch swing. But he had plenty on his hands as Shelby was wrapped up in the plans for the engagement party.

Or more, from what she said, in keeping Bitsy under control.