Free Captured Lies by Maggie Thom

He’s cute. Why are all the nut jobs cute?
    He placed his hand behind him,
pulled his feet up to his butt.
    “Don’t get up.” Bailey’s hand
flew up like a traffic cop directing traffic. “If you want to talk stay there
or I’m out of here.”
    “My butt’s getting wet.” He raked
his hand through his thick hair but it fell back into place as though he hadn’t
touched it. “I don’t know how to say this.”
    “Good. Then I’m gone.” Bailey
spun around and started walking quickly.
    “You’re not you,” he called out
after her.
     

 
     
    CHAPTER TEN
     
     
    He quietly lifted the cane from its resting place across the
desk. The walking stick was old but there was nothing spectacular about it,
other than maybe that one side of it was well worn and didn’t match the maple
brown of the other side. The rubber end was maybe a bit larger than most had
but nothing to draw attention to it. That’s why it had taken him so long to
figure out where she’d kept her key hidden all these years. Setting down his
flashlight so it faced him, he pinched the rubber end of the cane using his
fingertips and gently pulled. His large garnet ring flashed in the light. He
smiled at the gift his first lover had unknowingly given him. He wasn’t sure
how she’d explained to her husband that it had gone missing. The stopper slid
off the wood with a gentle pop. The devil’s smile crossed his face as two keys
fell into his hand. He walked around the desk.
    There was a creaking sound from
just outside the door.
    He froze, one foot firmly on the
ground, the other half raised to step forward. He knew it couldn’t be the old
bat – that’s how he’d always seen his sister even though she was only a few
years older than him - she slept like a drunken sailor. The snort that
automatically rumbled up from the back of his throat was barely muffled by his
hand. Two minutes went by before he dared to move. Since no more noises came,
he put the sound off to that of an old house settling its bones. The mansion
had been built in the 1800’s and although it was as solid as any mountain it
still had its moments. When he’d been younger, he remembered thinking that the
house’s ghosts were waking up, to take vengeance for all the wrongs that had
been done.
    He knew of many of them. Actually
he was responsible for a lot of them. And was part of too many. There was no
question in his mind he was going to hell. That just meant his time on earth
was going to be anything but that. He sat down, in her chair. He sank back into
the luxury of the soft leather, his mind wandering to what he would have done
had he had this role. It didn’t matter that in theory he was in charge of
everything. He’d never been given the title or acknowledged as ‘the one’.
    She’d always gotten the credit.
    He ignored the voice from the
past reminding him that he had no real right to even be there. To even be given
an opportunity to run the family business.
    He pushed away his thoughts
before sliding the key into the lower left hand drawer, pulling it open.
Knowing what he would find, he quickly flipped through the files – My Will,
which he’d read many times; account ledger – again something he’d reviewed and
was only glad that she had no idea that it wasn’t totally accurate; Baby
Cassidy… He jerked back as though a snake had struck at him. He pressed his
hand to his chest trying to still the frantic racing of his heart as he stared
at the open drawer.
    Baby Cassidy . That hadn’t
been there before. Slowly leaning forward, he pinched the document between his
thumb and two fingers and lifted it out with a straight arm. He carefully laid
it on the desk, before reaching into his inside breast pocket and pulling out
his handkerchief. He wiped his damp forehead; not feeling the cool, seventy-two
degree air conditioned room temperature.
    Grabbing the top side of the file,
he gently flipped it open. Guy’s name jumped out at him.
    That bastard is out to