“ Morning.Be sure to check for my review, first posted on Mystery and Suspense, as well as a number of other insightful comments by other reviewers.Īlways eager for a chilling story about power and deception, I was pulled into the middle of A. He leaned against the railing, and even from here, I could see some dark chest hair peeking out of the top of his white robe. I wove around a bed of white roses and glanced over, spotting Matt on their upper balcony, his own coffee in hand.
The privacy hedges between us and the Ryders ended at the edge of our home, the back of their home exposed if you walked deeper into our gardens. I’d spent years cultivating the perfect mix of apple and lemon trees, set off by spice and strawberry bushes.
The gardens stretched between our home and the pool, then picked back up at the entrance to the orchard at the rear of our lot. The hydrangeas were in full bloom, and I took a moment to appreciate the neat pockets of color set off against the roses and grass. If William comes down for breakfast before I get back, please let him know.” “ Certainly.” Philip nodded, and I took my mug and stepped through the back door, inhaling the crisp morning. Winthorpe.” “Good morning.” I smiled at the chef and poured a cup of coffee. That blonde bitch had backed me up against a wall, and I hated it. House?” I pinched pepper pieces together and worked the knife furiously against their strips, cubes of red and green flying along the cutting board. At this angle, I could see their bedroom windows, but the room was dark, their activity still restricted to the downstairs. I cupped my knees to my chest and strained to hear anything from the Ryders’ house. I’d had to force the break, or he’d never have done it on his own, and she would never have any repercussions for her horrible actions. I’d had to show him how terrible his life was with her. He would have forgiven cheating, but murder? Could any spouse forgive that? Could any husband still love his wife knowing that she wanted him dead? No. The confirmation of what I’d already known had warmed me, the tequila blurring the edges of my actions with a rose tint I’d already grown quite accustomed to. I found out and never did a thing about it.
Last time I didn’t even confront her with it. Matt had proven it in our conversation at the White Horse. I couldn’t let Neena and William have an affair and her be forgiven and loved as if nothing had even happened. I’d never seen a husband with such devotion and blind acceptance. I’d had to tell him that I was leaving William, had to set that false trail to give him something to initially follow. Announcement that he would kick Neena out and wondered if he would actually stick to it.
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