Between the Lies (Book One - The Northern Lights Series) Read Online Free Page B

dead guy in the elevator and the handsome doctor of the dead before slipping into a dream-frenzied sleep.
    As the sun came up, I realized I was no longer a kept woman. A strange freedom rose up in my spirit only to be pulled down by the chains of my secrets.

Chapter 4
    The old lady’s visit came as a surprise.
    My only warning of her arrival was the quiet swish of the private elevator door opening. She gave me the once over with piercing eyes, and then she sailed across the room. I guess my ponytail, burgundy sweat pants, Gopher’s tee-shirt, and white athletic socks were beneath her. I remember thinking, La-te-da ! It went unsaid.
    She walked without a cane, and her posture was military straight. Alan’s mother, the grand dame herself, sat in the same chair Alan preferred, and once again, I was invited to sit on the couch.
    Although not an attractive woman, her navy dress complemented her sterling hair laced with icy strands of white and her forget-me-not blue eyes.
    She surveyed the room. “I haven’t been here in years. Not since my husband’s death. Walter kept his long-term women here too. You’ve taken excellent care of his things. Thank you.”
    Instead of a reply, I sat on the edge of the couch, hoping her stay would be short. The women in Alan’s life seemed to enjoy letting me know I wasn’t the only other woman he was involved with. Ma called that rubbing your nose in it; a crude saying that fit my current situation perfectly.
    “I have an inventory of the things I left here after Walter’s death. If anything is missing, I will know and will take legal action to get it back; is that understood?” she demanded.
    “Yes.”
    “I’m surprised you left this place the way it was. Are you still using the monogrammed china as well?”
    “Yes. Your son allowed me to change the décor in the master bedroom and the room that was our daughter’s. All the things from those rooms were carefully placed in storage. I will have them brought up for you before I move.”
    I was trying my best to keep the chill in my voice as strong as the one in hers, but mine sounded wobbly at best.
    “That’s very thoughtful of you. Did you paint any of the walls?”
    “I painted Jillian’s a soft butter crème yellow. It was her favorite color.”
    In silence, we observed each other for a moment, and I realized she was homely. Her nose and chin were large, and her eyes had a bit of a bulge to them. Her only assets were her slender build, expensive clothing, and aristocratic carriage.
    My face must have betrayed my thoughts, because she said, “He married me for my money. To his credit, he turned what I brought into the marriage into far greater wealth. In turn, I have my son. It worked well for both of us.”
    I didn’t know what to say, so I waited for her to continue.
    “Alan prefers beautiful women,” she said.
    The back-handed compliment caught me off guard.
    “I knew her—your Jillian.”
    Her words stunned me. “How? Alan had strict rules about keeping you and her apart.”
    “No, he had strict rules about keeping you in your place. He allowed me to visit her in the hospital. Of course, she didn’t know who I was. I dressed down a bit, and went to see her as one of those volunteers—what did they call them? Ah yes, ‘visiting angels.’ During those hours I read to her, and she told me all about you.” In those few words, her tone of voice changed from a haughty dowager to a grandmother. “She loved you very much. You and Jesus.”
    “What did she say about me?”
    “Jillian told me about your inner beauty and your talent as an artist. She also said you kept that part of your life a secret because her daddy didn’t think it was important. Jillian loved him too. She had a gift for knowing the worst about people and loving the best in them.”
    I nodded in agreement. In the face of this woman, my normally abundant supply of words disappeared.
    She stood and said, “I’ll be going now. If you have