Should Have Known Better

“Money. Isn’t that why you’re here? You keep talking about me, but what about you?” Val asked suspiciously.

“I already said why I’m here.”

“A little more to the story, isn’t there?” Val said. “I know about that phone call the morning Jamison died. He was going up to that roof to meet you.” Val stepped in close to Coreen and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Look, I’m telling you, just like I told the police Kerry sent looking for me: I had nothing to do with Jamison’s death. I was not on the phone with him that morning,” Coreen said very confidently.

“That’s really interesting, because Kerry was there with him in the hotel room and she’s sure it was you on the phone.”

“Kerry is in jail for a murder she committed and she’ll say anything to try to peg this on someone else,” Coreen said. “She’s desperate and she hates me. But just like I told her long before you were even a thought, her husband slept with me. He wasn’t my problem, he was hers. When my son was born, I just wanted my money. How was killing him going to get me any more? I loved Jamison, but I didn’t hate him enough to kill him. And you want to know who loved him, but hated him enough to kill him because of those times he lied to her and cheated on her and made her look like a fool? Kerry. She’s looking for the killer? Tell her to look in the mirror. I heard about Jamison’s death just like everyone else—on television.”

Don’t miss Trice Hickman’s latest novel in the Unexpected Love series,

Troublemaker

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Victoria

“How can two small words cause so much trouble?” Victoria whispered aloud as she stared at the name flashing across her cell phone screen. Her body stiffened against the soft fabric of her high-back office chair while she bit down on her ruby-colored lower lip, a nervous habit she’d developed when she was a teenager. The name PARKER BRIGHTWOOD flashed at her like a warning light, and she knew that a call from him was something for which she needed to brace herself.

She sat forward, propped one elbow on top of her large mahogany desk, and debated whether she should answer his call or let it roll into her voice mailbox. She knew she’d have to talk to him sooner or later, so rather than avoid and ignore him—a costly mistake she’d made in the past—she hit the talk button.

“Hello, Parker.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

“Because you sound so formal. Not like your usual self.”

She wanted to ask him how he could possibly know what she usually sounded like. After all, it wasn’t as if they talked on a regular basis. Those days had ended many years ago. But she also knew that as much as her life and circumstances had changed in that long span of time, a few delicate, if not complicated, things hadn’t, and Parker was one of them.

“You sure you’re okay?” he repeated.

“I’m sure. Now how can I help you?”

He chuckled. “There you go again, talking to me like a greeter in a department store.”

“I have to keep things on a business level with you.”

“Oh, and why is that?”

She took a deep breath. “Because you don’t know how to act.”

“Well, since you’re the consummate purveyor of proper etiquette, maybe you can give me a few lessons. I’m a very good student and I catch on pretty quick, but you already know that, don’t you?”

She smiled on the other end, despite not wanting to.

They were both quiet for a short pause. Victoria could hear him breathing through the silence on the other end, and she imagined the sly grin that was no doubt spread across his lusciously soft lips, which carried a perfect tint of pink. She was almost pulled in for a moment, but she quickly regained her focus. “I don’t have all day, Parker. What do you want?”

“Victoria, I think you’re losing that gracious Southern charm that always made you so lovable, and I might add, irresistible.”

“Get to the point or I’m hanging up.”

“Okay, okay. I want to know if I can add two more guests to the list for the reception?”

Victoria reached for her silver-plated pen and softly tapped it against the top of her desk as she let out a small sigh. She knew that Parker’s question was nothing more than an excuse to talk to her. When he’d called last month asking her the very same thing, she’d told him then that according to the guest list that she’d spent hours meticulously creating, all in preparation for the final headcount for his son’s and her daughter’s wedding next month, there was room for up to five additional guests.