Deception by Aleatha Romig

Author:Aleatha Romig
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Contemporary
Publisher: Romig Works LLC
Published: 2016-05-02T18:30:00+00:00

I FELT ODD watching Lana cook, but not Pat. I loved seeing how he combined ingredients to create heavenly meals. I sat at the counter overlooking his kitchen. Just beyond the smooth surface and my glass of chardonnay, my cousin was once again preparing magic in a pan—in three pans, to be more exact.

“Did you see the latest about the woman who was shot?” Patrick asked.

I cradled my head in my hands with my elbows on the granite. I had too many things to think about. I wanted her to be safe and spend my time with other concerns. “No. What did it say?”

“Oh! This isn’t a hold-your-head kind of thing.” His voice was full of animation. “They’ve changed their mind about her being an innocent bystander.”

I lifted my eyes. “What do you mean?”

His brow lengthened, revealing more of his forehead with his thinning hair, and his light brown eyes danced with secrets. “I don’t know for sure.”

“You lost me.”

“I think you should call that Mrs. Witt lady. All I know is that they said the case has been changed to attempted murder.”

“Wouldn’t it be anyway? I mean, she was shot. It’s not like I’ve been questioned and the police think Nox or I was the intended target.”

“That’s the thing. In the beginning they were saying that she was a woman in the wrong place at the wrong time. Now there’s something about her relationship with her husband, questioning his whereabouts. It all makes it sound as if she was the intended target.” He continued to dice and stir, filling the air with the wonderful aroma of onions and peppers. “I could be reading too much into it, but I bet that woman knows more.”

“The woman who was shot?” I asked.

“No, that Witt woman.”

I shook my head. “Pat, I don’t know if I can entertain any more conspiracy theories.”

“But don’t you get it? If she was the intended target, it wasn’t you or Mr. Good-looking.”

I took a deep breath and leaned back against the tall stool. “That would be nice.”

“By the way, does he know you’re here?”

“Yes. My sleepover is Demetri-approved.”

“What about Montague? Do they approve?”

I shrugged. “Does it make me a terrible daughter if I say that my fucks are completely used with other concerns? I have no more to give.”

Patrick laughed. “No, little cousin, I think you deserve that. Now where were you last night?”

“Nox’s house…” If it had been almost anyone else, I wasn’t sure if I’d have answered the question so freely, but Patrick made me feel safe, just as he had all of our lives, protecting me in ways I didn’t even know.

After dinner, I asked, “Do you know anything about marijuana legislation?”

“You mean, did I consider moving to Colorado?”

A smile brightened my face. “That wasn’t what I meant. I need to look up some things about one of my professors.”

“I’m sure you could ask the Witt lady.”

I hadn’t thought of that. “No, it’s not that big of a deal. My faculty advisor wants to

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