BooksBarbecue
Back The Lying House Save as PDF
Chapters (103)
  1. Cover
  2. Back Cover Text
  3. Praise
  4. Booklist
  5. Dedication
  6. Epigraph
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. 61
  68. 62
  69. 63
  70. 64
  71. 65
  72. 66
  73. 67
  74. 68
  75. 69
  76. 70
  77. 71
  78. 72
  79. 73
  80. 74
  81. 75
  82. 76
  83. 77
  84. 78
  85. 79
  86. 80
  87. 81
  88. 82
  89. 83
  90. 84
  91. 85
  92. 86
  93. 87
  94. 88
  95. 89
  96. 90
  97. 91
  98. 92
  99. 93
  100. 94
  101. Epilogue
  102. Acknowledgments and a Personal Note
  103. Excerpt

Jeff put his palm up against the glass to say goodbye.

Lisa raised hers to do the same, hesitating when she saw the faint cut on his palm, feeling a shiver pierce her, before she placed her hand on the glass with his.

Outside, Lisa sat behind the wheel of her rental car in the Miami-Dade police visitors’ parking lot with images, real and imagined, swirling in her head.

Their wedding day; the news footage of the place where Vida’s body was found; those pictures of Jeff with Vida naked that she never saw; memories of herself with Jeff in the many happy moments they’d had over their life together; then images of her holding their baby.

Suddenly she shook with racking sobs.

Oh God, help me. I don’t know that man in there.

After several long moments, she found her composure, grabbed some tissue, then saw her eyes in the visor mirror.

If Vida did have sex with my husband, she deserves to be dead.

Lisa’s eyes widened, and she gasped.

No, I didn’t mean that. No!

Suddenly Lisa was pulled back to that day…

Coming home from Tiffany’s birthday party in the back seat of Stacey’s car…her dad drinking from a can and driving, playing the radio loud… Stacey playing with her…pushing the button… “Don’t push the button, Stacey!”… But Stacey won’t stop… She pushes the button that releases Lisa’s seat belt… Lisa buckles it again, then pushes Stacey’s button, the seat belt whipping free when her father curses…brakes screeching…metal and glass exploding… Stacey rocketing from the car, a rag doll…plastered to the grille of the big truck…

Another car had run a red light and Stacey’s dad was drinking, they said, but Lisa knew she was the one who’d released Stacey’s seat belt… It was her fault…

Now Lisa slammed her palms on the wheel as if trying to break out of her nightmare. All around her, dark clouds were swallowing the sun.

A storm was coming.

85

Sabrina Martinez resumed studying summaries, photos and video footage she’d wrangled from the detectives who’d arrested Jeff Taylor.

Earlier, a paralegal had read much of the information to her over the phone as she drove back from court in Tampa to her home in Miami, wishing she’d flown. She didn’t have time to take on Taylor as a client, but after her brother, then Lisa Taylor, had called, she’d agreed.

At her home in Aventura she changed from her shirt and shorts into a dark pantsuit with a white top and pulled her hair back into a taut ponytail. She slid on her gold-framed glasses and headed straight to the Miami-Dade police complex.