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Back A Text Before Dying
Chapters (62)
  1. Cover
  2. Love best-selling fiction?
  3. Also by McGarvey Black
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraph
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. Acknowledgements
  60. A note from the publisher
  61. Love best-selling fiction?
  62. You will also enjoy:

Minutes later he returned with an extra-large glass of bourbon on the rocks. “Here you go,” he said, handing her the tumbler. “This should send you off into dreamland. Take a nice long nap and I’ll be back before you wake up. I’m going to leave now, okay? I’ll lock the top lock. No one can get in and there’s no way Don will let anyone up here after what happened. He’ll probably make me show my ID when I come back.”

After she heard the front door open and close, she texted Sean.

Just got home. Exhausted and stressed. Conner left to do something for work. Am going to take a nap. FaceTime tonight?

She opened the nightstand drawer and took out her old Ambien prescription bottle containing one last pill. Popping it into her mouth, she washed it down with bourbon and closed her eyes.

45

When he closed the front door to the apartment, Conner stopped in the hallway and did a mental checklist before summoning the elevator. Taking out his iPhone he ordered an Uber to take him downtown. A car driven by Enrique was only nine minutes away. Perfect. Reaching into his breast pocket, he pulled out a brand-new disposable phone and opened Gmail. Punching in Zoe’s credentials, Zoefbrandt456@gmail, he keyed in the same password his wife used for everything—AgathaChristie1890. It was her favorite author and the year the famous mystery writer was born. When Zoe’s email account opened instantly, Conner shook his head and smiled. He had told his wife to change her passwords a million times, but she never did it. Now, he was glad she hadn’t listened. Opening a blank email, he left the subject line empty. In the body of the email he entered only two words and pushed send.

When Conner stepped out of the elevator into the lobby, the doorman looked up. “How’s Ms. Brandt feeling? It was an awful thing that happened. If I had realized—”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” said Conner. “You couldn’t have known.”

“I know but—”

“We don’t blame you,” said Conner checking his iPhone to find out where his car was. “Do me a favor, Don. I have to go into the office to take care of something and then I’m running to the supermarket. My wife is upstairs taking a nap. She’s a little depressed and completely exhausted. Under no circumstances is she to be disturbed. No one is allowed in for any reason. Is that clear?”

“Absolutely, Mr. Brandt. You can count on me. No one goes up.”

Conner gave him a thumbs up as a car arrived in front of the building. “Looks like my Uber’s here,” he said, adjusting his face mask while Don opened the front door for him. Walking to the waiting car, Conner opened the door and stuck his head in. “Enrique?”