Page 145 of Thick as Thieves

“But I should have known, Lisa. I’ve lived in denial that Dad took the money and ran. You enabled that. You let me cling to the hope that he was innocent.”

“I couldn’t bring myself to tell you differently and shatter that illusion.”

“I’m not that fragile. I’ve built up an immunity to having my illusions shattered.” She looked at Ledge. Although his eyes shone very blue in the dim room, his expression was unreadable.

Lisa took a drink of her soda, which must have gone warm. “Now that we’ve bared all, what do you plan to do?”

“Shut Rusty down,” Ledge said.

“We’re going to take everything to the attorney general’s office,” Arden told her. “All of it. Foster. Dwayne Hawkins.”

“The burglary,” Lisa said, looking resigned.

“I’m sorry,” Arden said. “But all this started with that.”

“It’s time I paid the piper for an egregious mistake.”

“You can’t be prosecuted.”

“No, only persecuted. Which,” she said, drawing a deep breath, “is no less than I deserve for being so stupid.”

“We’re both guilty of that,” Ledge said.

“Did Wallace know?” Arden asked.

“God, no,” Lisa said, looking horrified at the thought. “He put me on a pedestal. If he’d ever found out, I couldn’t have borne his disappointment in me.” She gave a wistful smile. “Before this goes public, I’ll resign my position at the firm to spare the board having to demand my resignation. Wallace left me a rich widow. I won’t suffer anything except the humiliation of having been a thief.” She turned toward Ledge and regarded him for a long moment. “You surprise me.”

“How’s that?”

“You didn’t break the pact.” She gave a terse laugh. “Honor among thieves?”

Before he could reply, his cell phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket. “Hey, Don.” He listened, then said, “Oh, shit. Did she say—Wait, this could be a setup. Did you check the caller ID? You’re sure?” Then he hissed, “Son of a bitch. Yeah, yeah, I’m leaving now.” He looked at Arden, who was already on her feet. “She’s doing all right. Yes, yes, I will. I promise. Gotta go.” He clicked off.

“What?”

“A staffer at the memory center called the bar, asking for me. She talked to Don on behalf of George, who was on his

way out of the building in a dead run, giving chase to some guy who pretended to be a friend of the family there to see Uncle Henry.”

Arden said, “I’ll come with you.”

“No.” His tone brooked no argument. “Not this time. You two stay together, but leave here as planned. Soon as you can get gone, go.” He looked over at Lisa.

As unflappable as always, she said, “I’ve taken care of her for twenty years.”

Coming back to Arden, he said, “I’ll keep you updated if I can. If not, Don will be in touch.”

“Ledge—”

“I’ve got to go, Arden.”

“I understand. Hurry.”

He left through the back door, but Arden went out behind him. Beyond the steps, the downpour was as heavy as a drapery. He hovered beneath the eaves to fish his key fob from his pants pocket. He flipped up the collar of his jean jacket. Arden had crowded in behind him on the top step.

He turned and reached for her hand, squeezing it hard. “If you were paying attention last night, you know everything you need to know.” He punctuated that with a firm kiss, then hurdled the lower steps and ran through the torrent to his pickup.

Arden stayed and watched him drive away before going back inside.