Liar's Key by Carla Neggers Page B

gone flying? An unfortunate accident that could have been prevented if he hadn’t gained fifteen pounds?
    Who would know he’d been warned to back off and then shoved?
    â€œWendell was at Alessandro’s funeral,” Gordy said.
    â€œI know. I was there, too. Timothy and Faye didn’t attend. It was good to see them on Sunday at Claridge’s. My mother was fond of the Sharpes.”
    â€œIncluding Lucas?”
    â€œYes, including Lucas, and you can go to hell, Gordy.”
    â€œSorry. I know he’s a sore subject.” He didn’t even try to sound sincere. “How long are you staying in Maine?”
    â€œA few weeks. I haven’t booked a return flight to London yet.” Claudia stood and came around to the front of the desk, the light catching her eyes, less hot now, more suspicious. “I’m prepared to see Lucas again. Wendell and Timothy and Faye were civil to me in London. I don’t know if they’re aware of the falling-out Lucas and I had.”
    â€œIt was over a year ago. Maybe no one cares anymore.”
    â€œWould that were true.”
    â€œIt wasn’t my fault, Claudia.”
    She gave a fake laugh. “You know, Special Agent Wheelock, if you hadn’t interfered with my life, I could be Mrs. Lucas Sharpe now.”
    â€œI don’t know who should thank me more, you or Lucas.”
    â€œBastard,” Claudia said, almost smiling. “Lucas knew I was distracted and under a lot of pressure with my mother’s failing health and then her death—and I couldn’t tell him the truth about you and me, how it was nothing, never meant to be anything for either of us. Oh, Gordy. What we did wasn’t just wrong on your end, as an FBI agent, it was wrong on mine, too. I betrayed a man I cared about.”
    â€œDon’t be so hard on yourself. You were close to your mother and had a hard time with her illness and death. You’re only human.” Gordy stepped closer to her, realizing he felt nothing anymore—no urge to touch her, kiss her, make love to her. He attempted a smile. “I was still quite the stud when you fell for me.”
    Not so much as a crack of a smile from Claudia. “I didn’t fall for you.”
    He gave up on trying to make her feel better about the past. Not his call how she felt, how she rationalized their behavior, whether she forgave herself...forgave him. None of that was why he was here. He’d consulted with her in an effort to better understand the antiquities trade, both legitimate and illegal, but also because he was convinced she could lead him to some serious bad guys. He was still convinced his professional instincts had been on target, but his personal instincts—his personal integrity—had led him astray, and Claudia, too.
    â€œNothing is ever simple and straightforward with you, Gordy,” she said, calmer now, her tone almost reflective. “It was stupid of me to call you. It was like lighting dry kindling. You were waiting for something to get you back in FBI mode. How long did it take you to book a flight to London?”
    He grinned. “Two seconds.”
    â€œSee? Stupid of me to call. I tried to tell myself I was just an old friend from your FBI days, but I got you all fired up. You couldn’t resist. You had to check to see if I was getting myself in trouble.”
    Gordy stood over her. “Are you?”
    â€œNo.” Spots of bright color appeared high in her translucent cheeks. “I haven’t had any trouble since you retired. That’s cause and effect, don’t you think?”
    The sarcasm and heat were back, but Gordy didn’t respond. He checked out three pottery bowls, each on its own shelf, as if they were too valuable, too precious, to brush against anything else. He was surprised by their reasonable price. They weren’t much more expensive than what he’d pay for new ones at Pottery Barn or Crate & Barrel.