Page 20 of Sharp Lies

LILY

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“TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH,” Amy said, grinning, when I walked in the door of the bakery.

I laughed. “Sorry. I’ve been a little bit busy.”

The grin dropped off her face, and she moved to one of the tables, pulling out a chair. “I’ve heard. Sit. I’ll get you coffee and a donut.”

“Two donuts,” I said. “And two coffees. You owe me your fifteen-minute break. I haven’t seen you in years.”

The smile came back to her face, and she nodded, then went behind the counter and started getting us our breakfast. Amy was my oldest friend and had been working at our bakery as long as I had. We’d cut our teeth on the bread and donuts here and first learned how to count money behind that counter. From what my mom said, she’d taken over running the place when I left, and my mom couldn’t be happier.

Being so close with the owners of the bakery also meant that she could take breaks whenever she wanted to. I’d been counting on that when I showed up hungry and badly in need of coffee.

Amy slid a large coffee in front of me, and I inhaled deeply, the scent bringing a million memories back to me. My dad in here baking bread. Amy and me learning how to ice the donuts. Sneaking in for midnight snacks when we were in high school. This coffee was the equivalent of the smell of home, and I hadn’t even realized how much I’d missed it.

“Remember that smell?” she asked quietly.

“Best coffee in the world,” I replied. “And I’ve been all over the country, trying coffees to prove it.”

She took a sip of her own coffee and closed her eyes. “I think you’re probably right. And I don’t even have to go out of the state to prove it. So what are you doing back? What happened? I mean, aside from the accident.”

I thought the accident was probably enough, but I gave her all the details. My mom’s injuries and the fact that she was going to be in a wheelchair for a while. All the updates I’d made to the house to make it safe and comfortable for her.

The neighbor who either liked me or hated me and who made my skin buzz every time he so much as looked at me.

I didn’t tell her about seeing him in the bathroom that night. Bad enough that I had seen him. I didn’t think he’d want the entire world knowing about it. And if I told Amy, the entire world would know in approximately two hours.

There was also the fact that I wanted to keep that particular story to myself.

And I didn’t tell her about my suspicions regarding my mom’s crash. I told her that Mom had been on the outskirts of town and had driven right into a ditch and then been lucky when someone passed the crash and called 911 quickly. I told her that we didn’t know how it had happened but that Mom was lucky to be alive, and that my aunt had come to sit with her until I could get home.

I didn’t say anything more than that because it was bad enough that I suspected the McCarthy men. I didn’t want to put it into Amy’s head. She’d always had a loose tongue, and I shuddered to think what would happen to her if she told the wrong people that she thought Tony or his dad had been behind my mom’s accident.

But I should have known that she would read it on my face. I’d known Amy my entire life. She knew everything about me—including how to see right through me.

“Do you think it was McCarthy?” she asked quietly.

Dammit.

“What? No. Why would I think that?”

“Because they’re the reason you left,” she replied. “And they threatened you and your mom then. Accident on a deserted road? I’ve met your mom, Lil. She’s a good driver. She wouldn’t have just driven off the road for no reason.”

I sealed my lips shut, determined not to give her any reason to think I believed the same thing. I’d already put my mom’s life in danger. I wasn’t going to endanger my best friend, too.

She just shook her head, though. “You don’t have to say anything. I can see it’s what you’re thinking. Are you going to do anything about it?”

Before I could answer her and say I definitely wasn’t going to do anything about it because we had no proof, someone opened the door to the bakery, and her eyes shot over my shoulder, then widened.

“Speak of the devil,” she whispered. “Don’t turn around. Don’t pass go. Get into the kitchen, and do it now.”

I froze at the ice in her words and then stood slowly, already knowing who was behind me.

After all, I’d left Oakville. Tony McCarthy hadn’t. And this bakery was his favorite place to come for breakfast, because the coffee was so good.

I started walking toward the kitchen, trying very hard to keep my steps natural and unhurried while making my strides as long as possible. I didn’t want a run-in with Tony, not only because I didn’t want to see him, but also because officially I was supposed to have left town. And not come back.