Tell me to Lie by Charlotte Byrd

Author:Charlotte Byrd [Byrd, Charlotte]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781632250803
Publisher: Byrd Books
Published: 2020-02-10T18:30:00+00:00

18

Olive

When I knock on the door…

After a little bit of prodding, I finally go up onto the porch and ring the doorbell. No one answers for a while. We wait. I ring again and again no one answers. Finally, I hear someone. I’m tempted to run back to the car, but Sydney blocks the exit.

“Can I help you?” a woman with a petite frame and thick red curls piled up on top of her head asks.

“I’m looking for Robert Bortham. Is he home?” I ask.

“Yes, he is. Are you one of his students?” she asks with a smile while holding a wet pan and a drying cloth.

I stare at her without saying a word. But luckily, Sydney comes to my rescue.

“No, we’re not but we really need to speak to him.”

“Sure, he’s in his office. Do you want to follow me and I’ll show you where it is?”

I’ve either been spending too much time in the city or with criminals but I am really taken aback by her hospitality.

The house is an old Victorian that has been completely remodeled and updated. The furniture is sleek and contemporary and is a perfect complement to the interior.

We walk on a polished wooden floor, down a beautiful foyer, and through the living room with enormous floor-to-ceiling windows that look out into forest behind the house.

Mrs. Bortham stops and knocks lightly on the door across from the open-concept kitchen with an enormous marble island in the middle.

“Honey?” she asks. “I’m sorry to interrupt but there’s someone here to see you.”

She opens the door just as Robert Bortham swivels around in his chair and faces us. Unlike many home offices, his desk is facing away from the door and looking out of the window at the birch trees.

As I stand debating whether or not I should bring up his past in front of his wife, she solves the dilemma for me by closing the door and politely disappearing back outside.

“How can I help you?” he asks, getting up from behind the chair. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember you from class. Which one are you in again?”

“We’re not your students,” I say, clearing my throat. “I’m actually here to talk to you about something that happened a long time ago.”

“Okay…” he says slowly, drawing out the word as he speaks.

He furrows his brow and waits for me to continue.

Enough already, Olive, I say to myself. Stop prolonging this anymore than necessary. Just say it already.

“My name is Olive Kernes,” I mumble. Clearing my throat, I add, “Owen Kernes is my brother.”

I search his face for an inkling of confirmation but his expression remains flat.

Did I make a mistake?

Is this the wrong person?

“You used to go by the name Pink Eye,” I continue with newfound urgency. “You were very close friends with him back then.”

He still doesn’t react.

But he also doesn’t look surprised.

“Please, I’m not the police, I just have some questions about something that happened to Owen’s girlfriend…are you Pink Eye?”

The walls of his office are

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