Free The Second Lie by Tara Taylor Quinn Page A

himself.
    "That's right." He named an amount. A little higher than her figures. But in a quick search, she might have missed something.
    "And methanol..."
    Again, the amount he named was higher than she'd thought.
    Which struck the fear of God in her.
    She looked around at the farm owned by a man she wasn't sure she knew.
    He had the perfect setting. The perfect reputation. The perfect cover--a cop as his best friend. And he needed money, though he wouldn't tell her exactly how bad things were. She'd seen the signs. Even his beer was the cheapest on the market.
    "You've never ordered those chemicals in such large quantities before." Having grown up as a part-time member of the Evans family, Sam knew a bit about farming. And over the past weeks, with Chuck's help, she'd done her homework about methamphetamine production.
    Crossing his arms over his flannel shirt, Kyle stood--square shouldered, feet spread, a full seven inches taller than her--and scrutinized her as if she was a bug on Zodiac. Tired as she was, she had a flashback to another time, same place. They'd been about fourteen. She'd come out to ride his father's prized mare--she was the only one allowed, because she was light enough.
    While helping her down, Kyle had stolen a kiss. She'd never been kissed. At first, he'd looked as shocked as she'd felt. But in the next instant, he'd changed. He'd stood, arms crossed, staring her down like he was doing right now, as if daring her to find anything wrong with his behavior.
    "You've...used...anhydrous ammonia...as fertilizer."
    "That's right."
    "But this year, you planted less field and ordered twice as much."
    "Yes."
    Why the hell didn't he say something she could sink her teeth into? Something she could scream at him for?
    She could hardly yell at him for having had sex once fifteen years ago with another woman.
    He stood there, all long-haired, clean-shaven he-man. Why didn't he just take her to bed?
    No. She hadn't thought that. Didn't want that. Not now. Not like this.
    But she remembered another time--the day she'd come back to Kyle begging for her ring. They'd made love that night. Again and again. Kyle had been more tender, more...everything. He'd touched her as if she was an angel from heaven.
    She'd never forgotten.
    "In all of my research I haven't found one practical use for methanol on a farm--at least, not in the quantities you ordered."
    "Okay."
    "I'm guessing you haven't taken up a sudden interest in racing cars, right?" Methanol purchases were common in the world of racing. At least, that's what she'd read on the Internet.
    "Nope, can't say I have."
    "Why are you being this way?"
    "I might ask you the same thing. You look like hell, by the way. Rough night?"
    "I...didn't sleep much."
    She could sense him closing in on himself. There probably weren't any physical signs, but she felt his withdrawal just the same. "Who's the lucky guy?"
    They both knew that some day there'd be other people in their lives. Neither of them wanted to grow old alone.
    "Kyle, if you're in trouble, you know you can come to me...." She'd do what she could. Anything she could. She loved him.
    She was begging again.
    And she wouldn't break the law for him. He knew that.
    "I'm not in trouble."
    "Can you explain to me why you are suddenly purchasing large quantities of chemicals used to make methamphetamine?"
    "Yes."
    "Then why haven't you?"
    "You haven't asked."
    Okay, not technically, but...
    Kyle pulled her forward and shoved the door shut. "You come blazing out here when the day's barely begun, with all this distance between us and accusation in your tone, and you have the nerve to think I owe you anything?"
    What was this? She'd never, ever felt unwelcome on the Evans farm. Not even during the months Kyle was married. "Twenty years of friendship stands for nothing, I guess."
    "Exactly what I'm thinking." The hurt in his eyes said far more to her than the words he'd shot back at her.
    "You're right. I'm sorry." She looked him