MURDER AT THE EDGE OF NOWHERE, is now available on Amazon Kindle!
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Embezzlement, Blackmail and Murder
On the Oklahoma Panhandle!
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When
Liz O’Brien returns home to make peace with her ailing mother, she expects
boredom and monotony. Instead, she finds a morass of secrets that land her in
the crosshairs of a killer. Who would have thought that Tumbleweed, an Oklahoma
panhandle town so tiny it could disappear as a mirage, would be rift with embezzlement,
blackmail and murder?
Plus: The romantic designs of handsome cowboy from her past, really throw Liz
for a loop.
Here’s how the story begins:
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Prologue
“Everyone
has something they want to hide, but you have more than most.” Christabel
Steele flipped her hair backwards, a movement that she knew accentuated her
beauty. She pictured her sleek, golden hair fanning in practiced perfection
over her right shoulder. The gesture usually mesmerized men and annoyed women.
But today her quarry’s eyes glazed with fear. Christabel licked her lips,
savoring the moment. Like an antelope
caught in underbrush. But instead of blood, I’ll taste money.
Emotional
pain radiated from her dupe, and Christabel drew strength from the suffering.
Her earliest memory was watching her father suck marrow from a steak bone while
he skillfully tormented her pliable mother. Without so much as raising his
voice, the man could cause his beautiful, gentle wife to turn pale as moonlight
and cry like a baby. Christabel had watched and learned. Daddy had been dead
five years now, but she still worshipped him. He had taught her well.
“I
still have trouble understanding how you found out.”
“You
mention that each time you come, and my answer never changes.” Christabel
laughed. “Your tawdry little secret was clear to me from the beginning. I saw
and recorded every detail in my journals.” Christabel swirled the half-filled
champagne glass, never moving her gaze from her prey. “I’ve kept notes on what
I’ve seen for a very long time. I started back in the second grade when I got
in trouble for tellin g people’s
secrets.”
“You’ve
been a monster since a child! A bad seed.”
“Oh,
please.” Christabel licked her lips again, savoring her victim’s pain, which
was stronger than she had expected.
“And
you think people will continue paying forever?” The prey’s voice tightened and
Christabel’s lips curved higher.
“Well
you have, haven’t you?” Christabel moved her body sensuously against the sofa.
“And not just in cash.” Her enjoyment intensified as the person’s misery grew.
“I never tell my victims everything I
know about their little indiscretions. A pinch of uncertainty adds excitement
to the hunt. Then, the slightest hint of knowledge and you all get the same
stricken look on your faces—like an antelope just before a mountain lion
pounces. I watched that once on TV.”
The
victim flinched and Christabel laughed.
“Growing
up, I watched my parents carefully. I inherited Mother’s beauty, and Daddy’s
brain. I learned how to get what I wanted by mirroring him.” Christabel smiled.
“Knowing is power and power is even better than sex.”
“You’d
do this even if cash wasn’t involved, wouldn’t you?”
Christabel
arched an eyebrow. This one was smarter than she’d thought. “Perhaps. My family
has run Tumbleweed since the late 1800s. We’ve always called the shots here—my
father before me and his father before him. I like making people dance to my
tune. And I like the money.”
Her
life was perfect.
Then
she remembered Liz. Why the hell hadn’t her cousin stayed in Tulsa where she
belonged? Everyone claimed the bitch had been a huge success. Crashed through
the glass ceiling and became VP of some company. Now she’d returned and wanted
her house to herself.
She’d hated her cousin forever!
It was Liz’s fault she’d gotten pregnant and had that embarrassing baby with
his brown skin.
Christabel
flicked her tongue across her scarlet lips remembering the night a heartbroken
Liz had eloped on the rebound to marry that worthless Danny O’Brien. I thought she was gone forever. Oh, the hell
with her.
Christabel
took another swallow of the expensive wine. Her victim always brought the
finest. She frowned and sniffed the glass. She had left the room for only a
moment in order to carry that wretched cat upstairs and lock the beast in Liz’s
room. Could there be something in the champagne? Christabel smiled. Impossible.
Too much fear. “You brought the money?” She held out a small aristocratic hand.
“All of it?”
“Yes.”
Her victim sat quietly, and the quietness annoyed Christabel. She sipped the
champagne again. Of course, it tasted the same; it was her fourth glass. She
drained the flute, then smiled. She’d finish the whole bottle and offer none to
her prey. Daddy had taught her how to hold her liquor and how to keep victims
in their place.
“You
promise not to tell?”
“If
you pay, I never tell.” Christabel let contempt curl her lips upward, then
enjoyed the resentment mirrored on the victim’s face. Christabel laughed. “At
least, I haven’t yet.”
The
room grew suddenly warm. The fragile stemmed glass weighed heavily in her hand
and her head spun. What was happening to
her?
A
black pistol appeared from a pocket as if by magic, grasped by the visitor’s
white-knuckled fingers. “Sit still.” The voice was hard and angry and not a bit
frightened.
“What
the hell...?” Christabel asked. It took her a minute to regroup. She narrowed
her eyes. “Don’t be an idiot. You shoot me and your sins become public. My
cousin Liz will give my journals to the police. You won’t be able to pay her to
stay silent. Miss Perfect wouldn’t take a bribe to save her own life.”
“I’m
here now, and I’ll find the books before she comes home.”
“Books?
I quit writing on paper years ago.” Christabel’s words started to slur. “Even
if you find my old journals and smash my iPad, there are tiny things called
thumb drives you’ll never find.”
“I’ll
take the chance.” Her visitor reached into the same pocket and pulled out a
plastic bag, passing it to Christabel. “Put that over your head.”
“You
think I’m crazy?” Christabel felt even dizzier. Her eyelids were heavy. If only
she could close them for a minute, she’d be all right…back in control.
“If
you don’t do what I say, I’m going to shoot off one side of your face.”
Not
her face, her beautiful face! This couldn’t be happening. She was the hunter.
She had never been prey.
“I
won’t kill you. I’ll just take off one cheekbone. I’ll even call 911 before I
leave. Only, no man will ever look at you again. Your outside will be as ugly
as your inside. That’d be worth going to jail for.”
The
image so terrified Christabel that she slipped the bag over her head, leaving
the bottom open to breathe through. She’d stall. Keep talking. She’d think of a
way to get the edge. She always did, just as Daddy always had.
Her
visitor walked behind her and put the barrel of the pistol against her face.
Christabel sat still, not daring to move. She felt fingers reach forward and
tighten the bag around her neck. The gun seemed like ice against her skin.
Christabel
drew in a sharp breath, and then the plastic shrink-wrapped her mouth. She
couldn’t raise her hand, and she couldn’t breathe! She might really die! For
the first time, she knew what fear meant, then blind terror.
The last sound
Christabel heard was glass shattering when the champagne flute slipped from her
fingers.
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Print copies will be available soon!
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