Chapters (97)
- Cover
- Back Cover Text
- Praise
- Booklist
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Seventy-One
- Seventy-Two
- Seventy-Three
- Seventy-Four
- Seventy-Five
- Seventy-Six
- Seventy-Seven
- Seventy-Eight
- Seventy-Nine
- Eighty
- Eighty-One
- Eighty-Two
- Eighty-Three
- Eighty-Four
- Eighty-Five
- Eighty-Six
- Eighty-Seven
- Eighty-Eight
- Eighty-Nine
- Acknowledgments & A Personal Note
- Excerpt
A few seconds later a man’s voice ordered the dog to be quiet as Emma heard movement toward the door, then locks clicking and a bolt sliding before the door opened about six inches.
Through the opening Emma saw a man in his thirties, messed hair, unshaven. He was shirtless, his chest and arms tattooed. One hand gripped the door, the other was down behind his back, where she glimpsed the dog, growling and barking. The man’s eyes took a slow walk over her.
“I’m not buying anything and I’m not looking for Jesus.”
While offering a small smile, Emma caught a hint of alcohol. “I’m looking for Marisa. Is she home?”
The dog barked again, and the man turned his head back. “Shut up!” Then to Emma he said: “Who are you?”
“I’m an old friend of hers.”
“What’s your name?”
“Is Marisa home? Can I speak to her?”
As the man stared at Emma, she noticed his eyes were bloodshot. He removed his hand from the door to scratch his chin, still keeping one hand behind his back, where the dog was barking again.
“Well, Marisa’s friend with no name, all I can tell you is she’s out.”
“Do you know where she is? Where I can find her? When she’ll be back?”
“Whoa.” The man half smiled. “You’re kind of a pushy thing, aren’t ya?”
The dog barked. Emma couldn’t see it.
“Leave me your name and number,” he said. “I’ll tell Marisa to call you. Or maybe I’ll call you?” He winked.
Emma bit her bottom lip, thinking, when she heard the dog’s paws scratching the floor as it barked louder. Keeping the door only slightly open, the man twisted, pushing the dog back with his foot, Emma glimpsing the hand behind his back.
He was holding a gun in it.
“No, that’s fine,” she said. “Thanks for your help.”
“I’d invite you for a drink but I got some other business,” he said.
“That’s fine. Thank you.”
Emma left and walked to her car.
All right, I know what I’m dealing with. I’ve got to rethink how I’m going to confront Marisa.
For now, she had another address to visit.
Eighteen
Orange County, California
Present day
The two-story house was on a quiet cul-de-sac in a small hillside section of the neighborhood.
Emma found the grassy yard with its flower gardens and palm trees welcoming, while she ruminated on her first attempt to confront Marisa Joyce Narmore less than an hour earlier.
Emma had contemplated it during the drive, determining she would keep the prop gun she’d sneaked out from the drama department while reconsidering how to deal with Marisa and her threatening note later. Right now, she had other important matters to take care of.
She rang the bell.