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Authors: Sally Berneathy
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you this gun in question that you'd sign th e divorce papers. You d idn 't sign the papers , so I refuse d to give it to you. Now I come home to find that same object missing and you in my apartment with some crazy story about a man who killed you, tried to kill me and stole my gun because, of course, you had nothing to do with my gun going missing. "
Charley looked uncomfortable. "That's about the size of it. He took the gun because he thought it was his , but it wasn't . "
Amanda glared at him. "It belonged to somebody else? You stole the gun you gave me? I've had a stolen weapon in my possession all this time? So that's why you took it. You couldn't have me turning it over the police if it was stolen." She slapped her hands on the chair arms. "I should have known!"
"No!" Charley protested. "I bought your gun! Totally legal. I can't believe you think I'd give you a stolen gift."
"Yeah, you're so morally upright, you'd never do anything like that. So why would this burglar think my gun was his?"
Charley looked down, refusing to meet her gaze. " I told him it was. Then I tried to tell him the truth, that I never had it in the first place , but he didn't believe me ." He shrugged. " So I told him you had it . I thought if I could get you to bring your gun to him, since it's the same kind as his, he'd take it and go away and not kill me. "
Amanda shook her head. "Charley, Charley, Charley. With your talent for making up stories, you should have been a writer instead of a con-artist."
Charley looked up, his expression wounded. "I'm telling the truth."
"Okay, fine, you're telling the truth." There was no point in wasting her breath arguing with him. "So why did this mysterious burglar think you had his gun in the first place?"
"H e ' s not a burglar, he ' s a murderer. Well, I guess he is a burgl ar now that he's stolen your property . But mostly he ' s a murderer. He killed a woman with the gun he thought I had."
" That ' s enough of your lies . " She pointed a finger at him. " I am a murder suspect, and now you ' re somehow involved in the theft of the item that can prove my innocence. You need to tell me what ' s going on, and I don ' t want any of your evasions and bullshit . "
" The guy…Kimball…he thought I had his gun, th e one he used to murder a woman, and he wanted it back. But I didn ' t have it . " Charley smiled and spread his hands, palms-up, as if that statement should clear up the whole matter.
"Kimball. So you gave this burglar a name," Amanda said. "Nice touch. Why did this Kimball, this murderer and burglar, think you had his gun?"
Charley's gaze locked on hers, and she recalled that she'd once found that blue gaze riveting. But now she knew him too well. That intense expression just meant he was formulating a lie. "No! Do not lie to me, Charley Randolph!"
"Yeah, about that." He sighed and grinned ruefully. "I can't."
"You can't what?"
"Lie."
Amanda threw her hands into the air. "Really? You can't lie? That's pretty amazing. We won't even discuss the times you lied to me about women and money. Let's just talk about your family, about the stories you told me about being an orphan. Your father was murdered. Your mother died in your arms from a drug overdose. Little brother murdered by his foster family. Poor orphan Charley. No family." She folded her arms and glared at him. "Funniest damn thing, half the town of Silver Creek thinks you're family."
Charley shrugged and gave her his big-blue-eyes innocent look. "That leaves a whole half of a town that's not my family ."
Amanda glared. "This is serious. I almost died in that motorcycle crash , and there's a dead man in your apartment , and the police think I killed you…him…somebody! I'm in trouble, and the evidence that could clear me is gone, and you say you know who stole it, and this whole thing is just insane, and you need to tell me the truth for once in your
Charley looked uncomfortable. "That's about the size of it. He took the gun because he thought it was his , but it wasn't . "
Amanda glared at him. "It belonged to somebody else? You stole the gun you gave me? I've had a stolen weapon in my possession all this time? So that's why you took it. You couldn't have me turning it over the police if it was stolen." She slapped her hands on the chair arms. "I should have known!"
"No!" Charley protested. "I bought your gun! Totally legal. I can't believe you think I'd give you a stolen gift."
"Yeah, you're so morally upright, you'd never do anything like that. So why would this burglar think my gun was his?"
Charley looked down, refusing to meet her gaze. " I told him it was. Then I tried to tell him the truth, that I never had it in the first place , but he didn't believe me ." He shrugged. " So I told him you had it . I thought if I could get you to bring your gun to him, since it's the same kind as his, he'd take it and go away and not kill me. "
Amanda shook her head. "Charley, Charley, Charley. With your talent for making up stories, you should have been a writer instead of a con-artist."
Charley looked up, his expression wounded. "I'm telling the truth."
"Okay, fine, you're telling the truth." There was no point in wasting her breath arguing with him. "So why did this mysterious burglar think you had his gun in the first place?"
"H e ' s not a burglar, he ' s a murderer. Well, I guess he is a burgl ar now that he's stolen your property . But mostly he ' s a murderer. He killed a woman with the gun he thought I had."
" That ' s enough of your lies . " She pointed a finger at him. " I am a murder suspect, and now you ' re somehow involved in the theft of the item that can prove my innocence. You need to tell me what ' s going on, and I don ' t want any of your evasions and bullshit . "
" The guy…Kimball…he thought I had his gun, th e one he used to murder a woman, and he wanted it back. But I didn ' t have it . " Charley smiled and spread his hands, palms-up, as if that statement should clear up the whole matter.
"Kimball. So you gave this burglar a name," Amanda said. "Nice touch. Why did this Kimball, this murderer and burglar, think you had his gun?"
Charley's gaze locked on hers, and she recalled that she'd once found that blue gaze riveting. But now she knew him too well. That intense expression just meant he was formulating a lie. "No! Do not lie to me, Charley Randolph!"
"Yeah, about that." He sighed and grinned ruefully. "I can't."
"You can't what?"
"Lie."
Amanda threw her hands into the air. "Really? You can't lie? That's pretty amazing. We won't even discuss the times you lied to me about women and money. Let's just talk about your family, about the stories you told me about being an orphan. Your father was murdered. Your mother died in your arms from a drug overdose. Little brother murdered by his foster family. Poor orphan Charley. No family." She folded her arms and glared at him. "Funniest damn thing, half the town of Silver Creek thinks you're family."
Charley shrugged and gave her his big-blue-eyes innocent look. "That leaves a whole half of a town that's not my family ."
Amanda glared. "This is serious. I almost died in that motorcycle crash , and there's a dead man in your apartment , and the police think I killed you…him…somebody! I'm in trouble, and the evidence that could clear me is gone, and you say you know who stole it, and this whole thing is just insane, and you need to tell me the truth for once in your
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