The Stranger's Sin by Darlene Gardner Page B

Sometimes lying is a necessary evil.”
    He raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Like when you’re looking for a woman who owes you money?”
    No! she wanted to shout. When you’re running out of leads in a desperate search to locate the only woman who can keep you out of prison.
    How, she wondered, could she make him understand? She’d have to try another approach: The truth.
    “I was on my sixth elementary school by the time I was twelve years old,” she blurted. “I lost count of how many times I was the new kid. It wasn’t easy to fit in, especially if the other kids found out I was a foster child.”
    She seldom revealed the way she’d grown up to anybody, even now. She hesitated, not ready to share the whole story of how her mother’s arrest for murder and subsequent sentence to life without parole had landed her in the foster-care system as a frightened eight year old. But she wanted to tell him at least part of it.
    “Sometimes I said my mother was a doctor and my father was a lawyer. Other times they were both architects who designed fabulous buildings. Once I said they were independently wealthy so they both just stayed home and took care of me.”
    He said nothing, but uncrossed his arms from his chest and leaned slightly forward, regarding her with interest rather than his previous apprehension.
    “Eventually somebody always found out I was lying but by then I was already leaving, off to another foster family, another school,” she said.
    More and more people were stopping for lunch, filling the tables around them, their chatter growing louder and louder. Kelly barely noticed any of the commotion, so focused was she on her past.
    “Did you move around from family to family your entire childhood?” he asked.
    “Oh, no.” She shook her head for emphasis. “I landed with Mama Rosa when I was thirteen and that’s where I stayed, thank God.”
    “Mama Rosa?” Chase prodded.
    “My foster mother. She was at least six feet tall, with deep lines on her face and this loud, gruff voice.” Kelly’s mind rewound to the first time she’d gazed up at the big, tough woman. “She told me right off the bat we’d be fineas long as I was straight with her. She scared me half to death, to tell you the truth.”
    “Did you lie to her, too?”
    “At first, mostly so she wouldn’t find out I didn’t measure up.” She’d lied about whether she’d finished her homework, the grades she’d made on her tests, if she’d done her chores. “Then one day, a couple of us were horsing around in the house. Mama Rosa had this beautiful heirloom lamp. I tripped and knocked it over. It broke into a hundred pieces.”
    She pressed her lips together, remembering how much her foster mother had loved the lamp and how afraid Kelly had been for her to discover who’d broken it.
    “She asked who did it. I said it wasn’t me. She got quiet, then this big tear dripped down her cheek. I’d never seen her cry before. I couldn’t stand how much it hurt for her to lose the lamp, so I confessed.” She blew out a breath. “It turned out she wasn’t crying because of the broken lamp. She was crying because I’d lied to her. Again.”
    A man walking by their table bumped Chase’s chair and apologized. He barely seemed to notice.
    “What happened?” he asked.
    “Nothing. She was true to her word. I’d told the truth, so I didn’t get grounded.” She stared down at her hands. “I never lied to her again.”
    She stopped short of telling him she hadn’t entirely given up the behavior. Oh, she’d never cheat on her income tax or tell a lie that would hurt anybody, but she usually claimed her mother was dead. Neither was she above telling the occasional white lie. More than once, she’d claimed to have a boyfriend when someone asked her out.
    “Your foster mother sounds like a remarkable woman.”
    “She was. After I moved in with her, she got licensed for short-term emergency care. Most of the time, there were five or six