As she pulled up in front of her motel room, Jessica saw the space in front of room 6 was empty. No sign of Connor’s green Ford pickup, no lights shining through the small window. Maybe he was on a date with Rachel, the rental property girl, already moving on quickly from Jessica. With a bit of luck, he’d left Eagle Rock altogether.

Jessica couldn’t help but feel she’d had a lucky escape. Found out the truth before her heart had been well and truly trampled on, before she’d made an even bigger fool of herself over a man who clearly couldn’t be trusted. God knows she’d had enough of them to last a lifetime.

Jessica flashed back to the kiss outside the Tahiti Club, the feel of Connor’s hands on her body, the butterflies that had exploded in her belly. The fledgling hope that she had found a reason to finally stop running.

Her face burned.

She stepped out of the truck and stood for a moment, letting the heavy rain wash away the embarrassment. Then she picked up the bottle of whiskey and made her way to the motel room.

Once inside, she fastened the security chain in place. Dumped the baby Glock on the nightstand. The wet rubber soles of her sneakers squeaked against the hardwood floor as she made her way across the room to the bathroom. Her jeans and T-shirt clung to her. Droplets of water dripped from the ends of her hair.

Jessica kicked off the sneakers and peeled off the wet clothes and underwear, dumping the lot into a small messy pile. She turned on the shower, flipped the temperature setting up a few notches, and stood naked and shivering on the cold tiles as she waited for the water to heat. She glanced at her watch as she threw it on top of the bundle of discarded clothing. Just under an hour until showtime. She stepped into the shower stall.

Thirty-five minutes later, Jessica stood in front of the room’s three-quarter-length mirror and scrutinized her appearance. She had deliberated for a good ten minutes over what to wear, finally selecting a black-and-white-plaid baby doll dress and black leather ankle boots. She blow-dried her hair and teased it into loose waves. Carefully applied eye makeup and a sweep of blush to her cheeks and a matte red lipstick blotted with tissue paper.

Then she sat on the chair next to the desk and twisted the cap off the bottle of Johnnie Walker and poured a generous measure into the stubby motel tumbler. The amber liquid almost reached the top. Jessica drank the lot in one gulp, breathed out hot whiskey fumes. She badly wanted a cigarette. The little plastic NO SMOKING sign on the desk and the smoke detector above her head told her it was a bad idea. She refilled the glass instead and wiped a smudge of red lipstick from the rim.