Guard of Honor by Tracie Delaney

Chapter Twenty-Six

Honor had barely slept a wink,tossing and turning as the disturbing revelations from last night played on a constant loop. No matter what that video showed, or Mack’s suspicions that he’d laid bare for her, she couldn’t accept that Lizzie, her confidante and support these last few months, hated her enough to try to make her feel as if she was losing her mind. And even if Lizzie was behind it all, the question of why remained. There had to be a reason. People didn’t just do this kind of thing, a dreadful, mean-spirited thing, to another human being without having a motive.

What was Lizzie’s motive? Honor hadn’t a clue.

Dawn broke on another hot and humid day. Honor untangled herself from Mack’s embrace and went to use the bathroom. When she returned, he was awake, both arms flung overhead, his eyes on her as she climbed back under the covers.

“You didn’t sleep, then.” An observation, not a question.

She rubbed her eyes. “Is it that obvious?”

He held out his arms, and she tucked herself into his side.

“Has Loris replied yet?”

Mack shook his head. “It’s only six thirty.”

“I don’t know what to say to her, Mack. I’m a director, not an actress. She’ll know something’s off. Maybe I should confront her. Ask her straight out why she did it.”

“Bad idea. Let’s see what Loris uncovers first, and then we’ll decide on strategy.”

“But what do I say? How do I act?”

“Normally. And if she asks if something’s wrong, just tell her you’re feeling like shit, which isn’t a lie.” He shot her a grin. “Right?”

She tried to smile, but her lips refused to lift. “Do I mention the ruined drawings, even to suggest that I thought I’d destroyed them?” She winced. Those drawings had been so special, a gift from Mack. Irreplaceable.

“No. Less is more. If you happen to bump into her, say you’re meeting your father for breakfast. That way, we can get out of the house for a while without raising any suspicions, and that gives Loris more time to gather intel.”

Honor nodded. “Good idea.” She smiled then as a thought came into her mind. “You don’t have to pretend. She already knows you hate her.”

He chuckled. “Lucky me.” Flinging back the covers, he got out of bed. “I’ll shift back to my room in case she gets up early. I’ll meet you downstairs in an hour, and then we’ll go grab a bite to eat.”

Alone, Honor stared up at the ceiling and allowed her mind to roam, searching for any signs, little Easter eggs that Lizzie might’ve dropped along the way, but no matter how much she thought about it, there weren’t any. Lizzie had been Honor’s rock. She’d supported her and listened and held her when she’d cried. God, she hoped this was all a dreadful mistake and Lizzie wasn’t behind all the things that had been happening. The video evidence couldn’t be denied, but maybe Lizzie’s evident fury lay in her jealousy over the theater trip. If only Honor hadn’t suggested to Lizzie that they should go to the theater together, or Mack hadn’t decided to surprise her with tickets to a musical she’d been desperate to see since before her abduction.

This was all such a terrible mess.

She took a long, hot shower and carefully dried her hair. Opening the top drawer to her dresser, she removed the ruined drawings. Gouging out the eyes was such a hateful thing to do. Something she’d once found so beautiful was now tainted, the holes where the eyes should be giving the drawings a sinister appearance.

Stuffing them back into the drawer, she applied light makeup and dressed in a colorful top and jeans. She might feel wrecked on the inside, but damn it, she’d put on a show on the outside. Her legs trembled as she made her way downstairs. She pricked up her ears, listening for sounds of Lizzie bustling about putting on laundry or making coffee, or getting an early start on the dusting. The house remained eerily silent. She pushed on the door to the kitchen, breathing out a whoosh of air when only Mack was there, sitting at the kitchen table.

“No sign?” she whispered.

“None.” He rose to his feet. “Shall we go?”

She stole to the front door like an intruder in her own home. Mack unlocked the deadbolt and removed the chain. As he opened the door, the sound of footsteps on the stairs brought Honor’s head around.

“Oh, Lizzie, morning,” she said, forcing a brightness she didn’t feel. “I’m meeting Papa for breakfast. Shouldn’t be long.”

“Can I have a quick word before you go? Alone,” she added pointedly.

Honor’s heart thudded, and she shot a nervous glance at Mack. His face remained stoic, almost detached. He closed the door and leaned against it.

“Shall I text your father and let him know you’re going to be late?”

She read the silent message: talk to her but make it quick.

“No, that won’t be necessary. I’ll only be a minute. Right, Lizzie?”

“Yes,” Lizzie said. “Just a minute.”

She followed the housekeeper into the living room and waited for Lizzie to choose a seat. When she picked the couch, Honor sat on the chair. Lizzie must have been able to hear her heart thumping. Honor sure could. It pounded in her ears with a stuttering and uneven rhythm.

“What’s the matter?”

Lizzie repeatedly plucked at a loose thread on her skirt, her eyes lowered to the floor. “I wanted to apologize.”

Beads of sweat trickled down Honor’s neck, despite the cool air conditioning. “Apologize for what?” she asked, praying Lizzie wasn’t going to bring up the pictures. She didn’t know how to handle a confession. Not without Mack beside her.

“For how I behaved last night when you said you were going to the theater with Mack. I’m so sorry for crying, for making a terrible fool of myself. I’m embarrassed and ashamed.”

Tension fell from Honor’s shoulders. “Oh, that. Please don’t worry about it, Lizzie. I’m sorry, too. I felt awful about it, but we only had two tickets, and as you know, Mack has to accompany me outside the house. Papa wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“I know that. I was just being silly. I hope I haven’t made things awkward.”

“No, of course you haven’t.”

Apart from the video footage we have of you stabbing through the eyes of the drawings of me. Nope, not awkward at all.

Honor rose to her feet, anxious to cut this impromptu meeting short. “I really do have to go, Lizzie. I don’t want to be late for Papa.”

Lizzie stood. “Yes, you mustn’t keep him waiting.”

Honor thought she detected a slight petulance to Lizzie’s tone but dismissed it immediately. Lizzie had huge amounts of respect for Papa. He’d offered her a job and a home when she was down on her luck, and Lizzie had often mentioned how grateful she was that he’d taken a chance on her when she didn’t have any experience in what it took to help run a large household.

“Everything is okay, isn’t it, Honor?”

Honor froze, fixed a smile on her face, and turned around. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Lizzie’s eyes flitted left and right. “No reason.”

“I won’t be long.”

Honor left Lizzie alone in the living room, her heart rate slowing when her eyes locked on Mack. With him she was safe. He’d never let anything happen to her.

He opened the front door, and the two of them jogged down the steps and into the car. As he pulled away, Honor blew out a breath.

“What did she say?”

“She wanted to apologize for crying over the tickets.”

“No mention of the drawings?”

Honor shook her head. “Not a word, other than to ask if everything was okay. I’m not sure if she picked up on how tense I was.” She sighed. “I have to ask. Is there any way that footage could be wrong? That what we saw was, oh, I don’t know, angles or lighting or something.”

Mack glanced sideways. “I know this is tough, Red, but while cameras can lie, they have to be doctored by someone who knows what they’re doing. What you saw was raw footage. You watched it at exactly the same time I did. Lizzie hasn’t been photoshopped over you.”

She raked both hands through her hair. “I’m clutching at straws; I know. This is all such a mess. I don’t want to believe it. That’s all.”

“We’ll get to the crux of it. Promise.”

Honor directed Mack to a coffeehouse a few streets away from her place. Mack went up to the counter to order, and Honor chose a seat away from the window. Call her irrational, but she didn’t want to risk being seen in case she was caught in the lie she’d told Lizzie.

Mack wolfed his sausage and egg muffin, but Honor only picked at her almond croissant, her stomach churning as it had the entire night. God, she felt sick to her stomach, her insides churning in a whirl of anxious energy, locked in a cloud of disbelief. She responded to Mack’s attempt at conversation with one-word answers, her mind running through multiple scenarios.

Mack’s phone buzzed. Honor sat up straight as he tapped the screen and scanned the message. “It’s Loris,” he confirmed. “He’s sent me what he’s found.”

“Which is?”

“Don’t know yet, Red. I have to sign in to the secure server and download it. Sit tight.”

Her hands wouldn’t keep still, so she sat on them, repeatedly biting her lip instead. After five minutes, Mack glanced up.

“What does it say?” Honor asked breathlessly.

“You already know that she lost her mother at eighteen and started working for your father soon after that. No dad in the picture. There is—”

“Wait.” Honor straightened. “What do you mean, ‘no dad’? Lizzie told me her father died when she was eight.”

Mack pulled his lips to one side. “Don’t know about that, Red. There’s no mention of a father on the birth certificate.”

Honor scratched her cheek. “I don’t get it. Why would she say that if it wasn’t true?”

Mack laughed. “That’s not a serious question, surely. It also says here that she legally changed her name right after her mother died. She was born Charlotte Smith, but changed it to Elizabeth, her mother’s middle name.”

“Changed her name? But why?”

Mack shrugged. “We’d have to ask her. The other thing that doesn’t quite add up is that Lizzie specifically asked your father to transfer her to work for you, whereas, if I remember correctly, you said that it was someone else’s idea?”

“Yes, my father’s housekeeper, Angela. She suggested it to my father who agreed it was a good idea for me to have someone of my own age around.”

“Did Angela tell you that directly?”

“No. Lizzie told me.”

“Did you check that with your father?”

“No. I saw no need to.”

Honor picked off a piece of the croissant, but rather than eat it, she rolled it between her fingers and then dropped it onto the plate. “We have no other choice. We have to talk to Lizzie.”

“Agreed.”

She wiped her greasy fingers on a napkin and picked up her untouched coffee. “How shall we play it?”

Mack twisted his lips to one side. Removing the plastic lid from his coffee, he tipped in a sleeve of brown sugar and stirred. “I’d suggest that we show her the footage of last night and let her explain herself. And then we’ll go from there.”

“You’re convinced she’s behind it all, aren’t you?”

Mack sipped his coffee. “One hundred percent.”

“But no theories as to why?”

“No. The only person who can tell us that is Lizzie herself.”

“What if she won’t?”

“Then she can tell it to the police.”

Honor’s eyes widened. “The police? Oh God, I hadn’t even considered the police.”

“Whichever way this goes down, Red, we have to hand this over to law enforcement.”

“If Lizzie is behind it all, is what she’s done even a crime?”

He rubbed his lips together and shrugged. “No clue. I’m not familiar with your laws. But there’s only one way to find out, and that’s to report it.”

Honor stared out the window, taking a much-needed moment. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Mack replaced the lid on his coffee and stood. “Let’s get this over with, Red.”