“The only way you beat back the darkness is to get up and rise above it,”claimed the novel’s heroine as she spoke to her terrified younger sister.“Don’t you dare give up. And don’t you dare trust anyone but yourself.”
Those words hadn’t simply been written for a fictional little sister. They were for Zona. She was putting her life back together. She was done being stupid and she was done being wimpy and she was done being vulnerable. And she was certainly done trusting anyone made up of muscle and testosterone.
“AND TO THINKI thought that man was nice when I first met him,” Louise lamented the next day as Gilda set out her breakfast. She was usually so good at reading people. She’d sure misread Alec James. “Of course, what can you tell from someone just saying hello, right?”
“Men like that put up a false front,” Gilda said. “They can seem real nice until you cross them. Then look out.”
“There’s something off about this one.” You couldn’t trust a man who didn’t like dogs. “And the poor woman with him. Zona’s heard raised voices over there. I’m afraid he could be violent.”
“So much goes on behind closed doors,” Gilda said knowingly. “Everything can look so normal and yet once you shut the door it’s all darkness and evil. You saw theDeathlineepisode about the man whose wife fell off a cliff when they were hiking, didn’t you? He kept claiming it was an accident. Everyone said they were the perfect couple until all these little things started coming out. Like the woman’s girlfriend who said he’d hit on her at a party once. He claimed he’d just had too much to drink.”
“Right,” scoffed Louise.
“And then the neighbor saw him clear on the other side of the city having lunch with another woman. It’s always about money or lust.”
“Or rage,” added Louise.
“You’d better keep an eye on your neighbor,” Gilda advised.
“I intend to, believe me,” Louise said heartily. “We could be living next to a potential murderer. Like inRear Window.”
“OrThe Woman in the Window,” said Gilda.
“A good reminder to be watchful,” Louise said. “Truth is stranger than fiction.”
They were discussing how Louise could keep a watchful eye on her neighbor when Martin showed up, bearing a gift for Louise.
“I thought you might like this latest book by Karin Slaughter,” he said, as he settled in at the table with the two women.
“Thank you, Martin. That is so kind of you,” Louise said.
“It might give you ideas for your novel,” he suggested.
“I’m always open to ideas. I’m going to set it on a cruise,” Louise told him.
“A cruise, huh?” he said thoughtfully.
Louise frowned. “I’d hoped to do some research while I was on the boat.”
Martin shied away from following her down that conversational path. “What’s going to happen? Is someone going to get thrown overboard?” he asked.
“Poisoned,” said Gilda.
Martin nodded thoughtfully. “Poisoned on a cruise. That could work.”
“It could. I just have to figure out everything else. I need inspiration.”
“I bet you’ll find it next door,” Gilda predicted.
Martin raised a questioning eyebrow. “Next door?”
“Alec James,” Louise clarified. “There’s something not right over there.”
Her words made Martin frown. “What on earth makes you think that?”
“He’s got suppressed violence,” Louise said. “He was downright ugly to us. And made a veiled threat to harm Darling.”
Martin’s brows pulled together in disbelief. “When was that?”
