Page 32 of The Nature of Secrets

Finley didn’t move for another few seconds. Her knees had locked on her, and she swayed precariously. Her stomach threatened to empty itself. She had to do something. Had to move ...

Finally her brain got through to her body. She knelt next to the piece of shit on the floor and touched his carotid artery. No pulse. Considering the blood that had oozed from his chest and pooled on the floor beneath him, CPR would be pointless. The bastard wasn’t coming back from this.

Didn’t break her heart.

Gritting her teeth, she felt in his pocket for his cell phone. Ensured the device location was enabled and entered911. She wiped the phone using the guy’s shirttail and tossed it on the floor next to him.

As she walked away, she heard the dispatcher’s practiced greeting. “911, what’s your emergency?”

At the door, Finley paused—shouldn’t have spared the extra seconds but couldn’t help herself. She glanced back at the guy on the floor.

Two down, one to go.

10

7:30 p.m.

The Murder House

Shelby Avenue, Nashville

Finley’s brain was beyond estimating how long she had been sitting in her Subaru.

Five minutes? Ten?

She had pulled into her driveway and shut off the lights and the engine. Her house was dark. She was glad. No one needed to see her like this.

Her body still twitched with the receding adrenaline. He was dead. The woman—Whitney—had shot him. The bastard who had raped Finley ... was dead. Done. Gone.

This was good. She was glad. Seeing that all three got what they deserved was her endgame, right? She’d dreamed of this moment ...

Except ... nothing had changed. She still didn’t know anything more than she had before Brant got his.

Doesn’t matter. He’s dead ... gone. That’s all that matters.

A shaky inhale drew air into her lungs.

In her rearview mirror she spotted the curtain moving in her nosy neighbor’s front window. Her laser-focused gaze seemed to reach all the way across the street.

Finley fought to slow the pounding in her chest.

The woman was always watching.

When she watered her flowers. When she walked her dog. When she sat on her porch enjoying a late-summer evening. And when she wasn’t doing one of those, she was monitoring the street from her window.

Didn’t matter. Finley had bigger issues. She closed her eyes.

The surprise and recognition that had flared when she’d come face to face with the anonymous caller flickered inside her again. What the hell had the woman been thinking?

Jealousy had driven her over some edge.

The replay of shots exploding from the woman’s weapon made Finley jump. She drew in another deep, steadying breath. The stench of drying blood saturated her senses, making her gag.

She had to get out of these clothes ...

Her fingers fumbled until she found the switch to turn off the Subaru’s interior lights, allowing her to open the car door without the revealing glow. She grabbed her bag from the passenger seat and pushed herself out of the car.

She closed the door and moved forward, aware of the eyes watching her.

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