Read Wicked Lies for Free Online Page A

that Koontz, Manuel’s business partner, one of those terminally charismatic salesmen who showed you a smile, a handshake, and not much else, was involved in some way. Both Koontz and Manny had known the boy with the gun as someone who’d tried to sneak into their high-end club with its lowbrow name, Boozehound, by showing fake ID more than once.
    Something was just off with the whole scenario, but Harrison had been warned off, and so here he was, waiting and watching as life continued on.
    And now he was experiencing a low-level excitement because this case intrigued him, the first since his brother-in-law’s death. He had considered going to the police but had dismissed it. He hadn’t really heard anything of substance and was playing a hunch. He’d been burned badly enough trying to ferret out the truth in Manny’s death, hadn’t he?
    The girl with the glittery earring started to stroll by him.
    He yanked on the leash a bit, and Chico, on cue, resisted, pulling away from him just as the girl tried to pass. The leash tangled in her legs and she started to fall.
    “Hey!” she cried. “What the fu—?”
    Harrison, on his feet in an instant, reached out and caught her arm, keeping her from actually hitting the sidewalk. “Sorry.”
    “Let go of me!” She managed to unwind the leash from her legs and yanked her arm away from him. “Jesus, can’t you control your damned dog!”
    “Usually, but he does have a mind of his own.”
    She rolled her eyes as if she was bored out of her mind with his explanation, then reached down and rubbed her bare leg where the leash had bit into her flesh. A thin red welt was developing.
    “You okay?” he asked.
    “No!” she said angrily, then straightened to narrow her eyes at him.
    “Do you need a doctor?”
    “What? No!” Then, some of her anger having dissipated, she added, “I’ll live.”
    “Good.” He turned his attention to the dog. “Chico! Here, boy!” Knowing she was still watching him, he picked up the dog and tucked him under his arm. Chico’s eyes glittered in pure hatred, as if he realized that he’d been used as a pawn in some subtle game, but he didn’t growl or snap.
    “Cute dog,” she admitted, giving him a long look.
    “I guess.” He ruffled the fur on the back of Chico’s head.
    “No, I mean it.” She seemed to have lost most of her quick-fire fury. Which was good. This was the first time they’d made actual contact. “His name is Chico?”
    “Yeah.” Nodding, he said, “To tell you the truth, he doesn’t like me much.”
    “Yeah, why?” she asked. “You beat him?”
    “No. Not that he doesn’t deserve it. Dogs, these days,” he teased. “You feed them, love them, give ’em an education. Buy ’em a car when they turn sixteen, and whad’d’ya get? Grief.”
    She couldn’t stop her sudden smile, even if she thought he was corny. Harrison half smiled back, aware he’d sunk the hook. He knew how to be engaging, although he rarely tried hard at it and basically used the skill only when he was working. The rest of the time he was, by his own admission, a loner. He didn’t trust many people. Most, he’d found, lied.
    And he couldn’t stand liars.
    “He’s actually my sister’s dog,” Harrison said as he set Chico on the sidewalk again. “I take him for walks, but he really just tolerates me.”
    “Can I pet him?”
    “Sure. Go ahead. He won’t bite you . . . much.”
    She leaned in closer, hesitated, saw he was teasing, then reached forward. Harrison let Chico, who was busting at his leash and wagging his tail, get his furry head beneath her hand, sniffing and licking and wiggling all over. The little traitor.
    At the same time Harrison leaned back in his chair, keeping a large distance between himself and the girl; he didn’t want to scare her off. He was wearing jeans, sneakers, a black T-shirt with a worn plaid cotton shirt as a kind of jacket, the tails hanging out. His dark hair was longer than usual, brushing