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Back Nana Save as PDF
Chapters (70)
  1. Title page
  2. Prologue
  3. Part One
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. Part Two
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. Part Three
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. 54
  60. 55
  61. 56
  62. 57
  63. 58
  64. 59
  65. 60
  66. 61
  67. 62
  68. Get on the Mailing List!
  69. Also by Brandon Massey
  70. About Brandon Massey

Both of them turned at the sound of approaching footsteps. Pat entered the kitchen. She offered a cheerful good morning, but her attention was on Monica; she seemed to be deliberately ignoring Grace. From the brief expression of disdain that flashed across Grace’s face, Monica sensed there was a mutual dislike simmering between the two women. She wondered about that, but had another matter to discuss.

“Did Duchess sleep in your room, Pat?” Monica asked her. “I haven’t seen her this morning and assumed she’d slept with you.”

“I haven’t seen her, either,” Pat said, and her gaze sharpened and shifted to Grace. “What about you? Have you seen her? You’ve been up and about quite a bit, haven’t you?”

What is going on between these two? Monica wondered. Did something happen while I was sleeping?

“I haven’t seen the dog since Pat let her out last night to eliminate,” Grace said.

“I stayed outside with her,” Pat said, voice taut with indignation. “She came back inside, with me.”

“I don’t recall that.” Grace shrugged. “But if that’s true, we shouldn’t be concerned. No doubt the animal’s around this house somewhere and will turn up eventually.”

“It isn’t like her to wander off.” Monica was getting out of her chair. “I’ve got to find her. Pat, will you help me look?”

“I’m right behind you,” Pat said.

17

Someone was shaking Troy.

Wake up, sweetheart, it’s important.

Troy awoke to Monica bending over him, one hand clutching his shoulder. Fear glistened in her eyes.

He blinked. Light from the bedside lamp stung his eyes, but it didn’t burn away his memory of the dream he’d been having. He had been running through the house, all alone except for Grace. Grace wore an outfit of black leather, and she wielded a nasty leather whip. Like a dominatrix. She chased him from one room to the next, snapping the whip at him, and with each painful lash, a piece of his clothing tore away, and she taunted him: Show me the goods, boy. I doubt you have anything I haven’t seen before . . .

He was grateful to wake from such a bizarre dream, but the anxiety in Monica’s gaze immediately sent a corkscrew of tension twisting through his gut.

He sat up, wiped his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“We can’t find Duchess. We’ve searched the entire house.”

Grace, he thought, and felt coldness run along his spine. The old woman did something to the dog, I know it. Mom was right about her.

He got out of bed. “Who was the last person to see the dog?”

“Your mother. She let Duchess out last night to potty, but she says she came back inside with her.”

“If Mom says she did that, then that’s what happened. Mom wouldn’t forget to let the dog in for God’s sake.”