Free The Truth by Erin McCauley Page B

apartment; all thoughts of leaving him a note forgotten.
    Still dazed, she’d managed to have her associate open the shop, drop Ryan off at his grandmother’s, and fool her brother into thinking her pale complexion was due to lack of sleep.
    Sitting outside of Marissa’s house her head swirled with unanswered questions and disbelief. She struggled to remember the conversation she’d had with Maggie about her past.
    Maggie had just started working for her, and Lexie had called a girl’s night at her place. They were sitting together, drinking wine, and grilling Maggie for information.
    Maggie laughed. “Well, let’s see … I’m originally from Florida, I moved to New York after my parents died to pursue a career in dance. The stages of Broadway were just calling out to me. I worked a bit off Broadway for a while and then followed my heart, which was being carried around by a man, to Washington about three years ago. I lived in the Seattle area for a while, and then wanted a slower pace to raise Ryan, so here I am.”
    “Dish the dirt on the guy who carried your heart around,” Lexie said, leaning forward, curiosity written all over her face. “Spill it, girl.”
    Maggie’s face changed, her smile faded, her eyes grew sad. “There isn’t much to tell. He was in the Marines. I met him when he was on leave. Within two weeks, I was a goner and followed him back to the base he was stationed at in Washington. He was shipped off to Iraq, and didn’t make it home.”
    “Oh Maggie, I’m so sorry,” Lexie said. “Is he Ryan’s father?”
    “He was,” Maggie answered.
    Lexie shook her head before briefly resting it against the steering wheel. She filled her lungs and exhaled slowly, trying to get her emotions under control. Throwing her purse over her shoulder she walked to Marissa’s door and knocked.
    “Lexie, is everything all right?” Marissa could obviously tell it wasn’t. “Come in, I’ll pour you some coffee.”
    She walked into the familiar, bright, open kitchen and sat at the breakfast bar in silence. Marissa set a cup of coffee in front of her and climbed onto the stool beside her.
    “Talk to me, what’s going on?” Marissa laid her hand over Lexie’s.
    “I don’t think Grayson is dead.”
    Marissa’s eyes drew together. “Why would you have thought he was dead?”
    Lexie knew she wasn’t making any sense. “I found a picture … of Grayson, in New York. I don’t think he’s dead.”
    Marissa shook her head. “Lexie, back up and start at the beginning. I’m not following you.”
    Lexie took a sip of coffee and a deep breath. “Do you remember Maggie’s story about Ryan’s father, and how he died in Iraq?”
    Nodding, Marissa waited for her to continue.
    “I found a picture of Grayson, in New York in 2005. I don’t think he’s dead.”
    “What would Grayson’s being in New York in 2005 have anything to do with somebody being dead?” Marissa asked.
    “It was a picture of him with Maggie.”
    “Why would Grayson have a picture with … ?” Marissa’s eyes grew large and her mouth dropped open. “You mean that Grayson is Maggie’s dead boyfriend? Why would Maggie tell us he was dead if he wasn’t? That doesn’t sound like her.”
    “I don’t know.” Lexie felt the tears begin again.
    Marissa drew in a sharp breath. “Lexie, that would mean — ”
    “Grayson would also be Ryan’s father.”

Chapter 16
    Later that afternoon, Lexie and Marissa sat side by side on Lexie’s couch and stared at the box sitting on the coffee table.
    “Lexie, are you sure you’re ready to do this?” Marissa asked, lifting the lid of the cardboard box.
    “No, I’m not.” Lexie took a large swallow from her wine glass. “But I need to.”
    “You don’t really believe that Grayson faked his own death? You know him; do you think he’d be capable of such a thing?”
    “No … I don’t know. Marissa, what is happening here?” Lexie’s hands shook as she set her glass onto the