Last Girl Standing by Lisa Jackson

Author:Lisa Jackson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Zebra Books
Published: 2020-03-16T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Delta drove to the nearest ATM, took out five hundred dollars, and then went to the mall and into Macy’s. She used cash to buy a medium-grade set of knives that came with a wooden-block holder. She took it home and out of the packaging and set it on her counter. It looked so shiny and new that she filled the sink with water and submerged the wooden holder, adding dish detergent. All the while she told herself she was making a huge mistake. She was getting in deeper and deeper for no good reason.

But they’ll think it was me. They’ll think I tried to kill my husband!

Her heart lurched. Her e-book. Blood Dreams . . . Her main character had killed her husband with a knife . . .

But it’s an e-book . . . not in print . . . not a best seller . . . just a way to deal with Tanner’s cheating . . . it’s not real!

“Oh, my God . . . oh, my God . . .”

It was on Amazon and Apple and several other platforms, available for anyone to read, should they choose to. She received a little money for it each month, not much. She wanted to rip it off the platforms and ran upstairs to her computer to do so, then hesitated, afraid. Would it look worse for her if she took it down now? Undoubtedly. She left the book alone.

She walked back downstairs with heavy footsteps. Picked up the wooden knife block and dried it off. She put the knives back in it. When the holder dried, some of its glossy, oiled surface had bleached out and lost its luster, and there were spots darker than others, making it seem used, although it wasn’t completely dry, so the jury was still out on whether it would pass as older.

This is a mistake, she told herself, her fingers clasping the edge of the farmhouse sink while she leaned forward, drawing several long breaths, before standing erect once more.

She realized she’d splashed water on herself, so she changed into her third blouse, this one a deep ochre that worked with her darker complexion and hair. She wore her same blue jeans as she headed downstairs, and just about the time she was ready to leave, her doorbell rang. She nearly dropped her cell at the sudden pealing through the house.

Her pulse sped up, and she scurried back upstairs to look out Owen’s window, which had the best angle to the front door. Two people. A man and a woman. Her eyes scanned the streets, and down the way she saw a news van. Not Channel Seven. Not Ellie O’Brien. But a news van all the same.

The vultures were circling.

Wildly she wondered if she should have taken McCrae up on his offer for an escort. There was nowhere to hide.

The reporters gave up ringing her bell after a few minutes, but she watched them mosey down the street, talking to each other.

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