Page 43 of The Fake Out

“Mama…”

“Why am I just seeing this?” She jabbed a finger at the bill in my hand. “In fact, why haven’t I seen more of these bills? There must be more.”

“Mama…”

She kept talking over me. “This is my fault. I don’t know why I haven’t been looking for them.”

“Mama…” I said again.

“Maebell Sampson, do not lie to me,” she said, her voice raised. “Are there more of them?”

“It’s under control. I swear.”

She pressed her lips together, the left side of her mouth listing downward, and I was again reminded she could have died. I might not be sitting next to her in the kitchen in the middle of the night because she almost died.

Carefully, I folded up the bill and slid it back into the envelope. “I don’t want you to worry.”

“How can I not worry? How many other bills are there?”

I shook my head and lied some more. Really, I was getting very good at all this lying. “This is it, and I’m working with the clinic to get it reduced.” I turned to her and looked her in the eye. “I have it all under control. I promise if there’s anything I need, I’ll let you know.”

“Maebell,” she sighed.

I stood and dropped a kiss on her cheek. “Don’t worry, Mama. I have a plan.”

When I got back to my room, I sent the text even though it was almost 3 a.m. It was short and sweet.

Me: Yes.

Setting the phone aside, I climbed under my covers, shivering a little even though it was a warm spring night. When the phone dinged back, my whole body tensed like one enormous charley horse. My hand shook when I grabbed for the phone.

Dreamboat: Thank you.

SEVENTEEN

Is your name Google? Because you have everything I’m searching for.

—ASHLEY

Chris’s rental house was known locally as the Wilson place. A few miles outside of town off a dirt road, it was a sprawling ranch-style home with a little red barn in the back and a front porch that stretched across the entire front of the house.

I pulled into the driveway and parked between Chris’s truck and a BMW. My hands gripped the steering wheel as I sat, giving myself a pep talk. “You can do this. Sure, it’s lying but it’s lying that pays a lot of money.”

Someone knocked on the driver’s side window and I shrieked. Chris grinned and pulled the door open. “Are you talking to yourself?”

“No.”

His grin grew two sizes. It was clear he didn’t believe me. Whatever.

I grabbed my purse and climbed out of the car, trying to hide my nervousness.

Chris led me to the front door and hesitated before opening it. “Ready?”

“Nope.”

His eyes were gentle. “Thank you for this.”

I cleared my throat, touched by the sincerity in his voice. “I’m just using you for your money, you know.”