Genuine Lies

his hands, the wild, wanton scent of desires, the seductive scent of woman.
    The light poured into the room, touched with the first flames of sunset. She rose over him, her face no longer pale, but flushed with life. She gripped his wrists, brought his hands to her breasts. With her head thrown back she sheathed him, taking him deep, surrounding him.
    Her body went rigid, then shuddered as she came. With her eyes on his, she brought his palm up to press a kiss to it.Then with a cry that was both despair and triumph, she rode him fast, and hard, as if she were riding for her life.
    She slept for an hour in dreamless exhaustion. Then reality began to creep into her defenses, shooting her from sleep to full wakefulness. Biting off a cry of alarm, she sat up in bed. She’d been certain she would find herself back in the cell. Alone. Locked in.
    Paul rose from the chair where he’d been sitting, watching her, and moved to the bed to take her hand. “I’m right here.”
    It took her a moment to fight for her breath. “What time is it?”
    “It’s early yet. I was just thinking I’d go down and make some dinner.” He caught her chin in his hand before she could shake her head. “You need to eat.”
    Of course she did. She needed to eat and sleep and walk and breathe. To do all of those normal things to prepare herself for the abnormal. And there was something else she had to do.
    “Paul, I need to tell Brandon.”
    “Tonight?”
    To fight off the weepy feeling, she looked away, toward the window and the roar of the sea. “I should have gone to him right away, but I wasn’t sure I could handle it. I’m afraid he might hear something, see something on television. I have to explain it to him, prepare him for it myself.”
    “I’ll call CeeCee. Why don’t you take a long, hot shower, down a couple of aspirin? I’ll be downstairs.”
    She plucked at the sheets as he walked to the door. “Paul … thank you. For this, and before.”
    He leaned against the jamb. He folded his arms, lifted a brow. And his voice took on that oh-so-British and very amused tone. “Are you thanking me for making love with you, Jules?”
    Uncomfortable, she shrugged. “Yes.” “Well then, I suppose I should say you’re quite welcome, my dear. Be sure to call on me again. Anytime.”
    By the time she heard him starting down the stairs she wasdoing something she hadn’t been sure she’d be capable of doing again. She was smiling.
    The shower helped, as did the few bites she could manage of the omelette Paul served. He didn’t expect conversation. That was something else she owed him for. He seemed to understand that she needed to think through what she would say to her son. How she would tell her little boy that his mother was being accused of murder.
    She was pacing the living room when she heard the car drive up. With her hands gripped together she turned to Paul. “I think it would be best if—”
    “You talked to him alone,” he finished. “I’ll be in my office. Don’t thank me again, Jules,” he said as she opened her mouth. “It might not go so easy on you this time.”
    As he headed up the stairs, he let out one quiet, vicious oath.
    Braced, Julia opened the door. There was Brandon, his backpack slung over his shoulder, grinning up at her. He managed to keep himself from bursting out with all the things he’d done that day. He remembered what she’d done. She’d gone to a funeral, and her eyes were sad.
    From behind him, CeeCee reached out a hand for Julia’s. The unspoken sign of support, of belief, had the back of Julia’s throat stinging.
    “You just call,” CeeCee said. “Just tell me what you need.”
    “I … thank you.”
    “Call,” CeeCee repeated, then gave Brandon’s hair a quick tousle. “See you, kid.”
    “Bye. Tell Dustin I’ll see him in school.”
    “Brandon.” Oh, God, Julia thought. She’d been so certain she’d been prepared. But he was looking up at her, his face so young, so full of trust. She closed the door behind her and led him around to the deck. “Let’s stay out here for a minute.”
    He knew all about death. She’d explained it to him whenhis grandparents had died. People went away, up to heaven like angels and stuff. Sometimes they got really sick, or had an accident. Or they got all sliced up like the kids in the
Halloween
video he and Dustin had snuck out of bed to watch on the VCR a couple of weekends before.
    He didn’t like to think about it very much,