The Perfect Wife

BEFORE HE FEELS (Book #6)

BEFORE HE SINS (Book #7)

BEFORE HE HUNTS (Book #8)

BEFORE HE PREYS (Book #9)

BEFORE HE LONGS (Book #10)

AVERY BLACK MYSTERY SERIES

CAUSE TO KILL (Book #1)

CAUSE TO RUN (Book #2)

CAUSE TO HIDE (Book #3)

CAUSE TO FEAR (Book #4)

CAUSE TO SAVE (Book #5)

CAUSE TO DREAD (Book #6)

KERI LOCKE MYSTERY SERIES

A TRACE OF DEATH (Book #1)

A TRACE OF MUDER (Book #2)

A TRACE OF VICE (Book #3)

A TRACE OF CRIME (Book #4)

A TRACE OF HOPE (Book #5)

CHAPTER ONE

Jessie Hunt, exhausted and sweaty, dropped the last of the packing boxes on the dining room carpet. She could already feel her muscles starting to cramp up and knew she was going to be in serious pain tomorrow.

But as she looked over at Kyle, she couldn’t help but smile. They were officially moved in. The wide grin on his face told her he was thinking the same thing. His shirt was drenched but she didn’t care as he came over and wrapped her in a bear hug.

“We live here now,” he whispered in her ear, before gently kissing her neck. “I think we’re entitled to a celebratory drink, don’t you?”

“Definitely,” she agreed.

“Champagne? Beer?”

“Maybe a beer,” Jessie suggested, “and a Gatorade chaser. I feel like my whole body might seize up at any second.”

“I’ll be right back,” Kyle said and headed for the kitchen.

Jessie moved from the dining room to the den and plopped down on the couch, feeling her perspiration-soaked shirt press against the sheet covering the furniture. It was late August and even in the coastal Orange County community of Westport Beach, the weather was hot and sticky. The temperature was easily in the low nineties.

Of course, that was nothing compared to what it was like back in downtown Los Angeles, where they’d lived until this morning. Surrounded by the asphalt and concrete and shiny skyscrapers, Jessie would often walk out of their condo into the late summer heat to face temperatures above one hundred. In comparison, this felt like a respite.

She reminded herself that this was exactly the sort of perk that would justify moving away from the familiar life she’d grown to love in the city. She’d be trading in the excitement of the busy LA streets for cool ocean breezes. Instead of hip, new restaurants, they’d visit seaside cafes. Instead of taking the metro or an Uber to a gallery opening, they’d check out a yacht race in the harbor. And of course, there was all the extra money. It would take some getting used to. But she’d promised her husband she would embrace their new life and she intended to keep her word.

Kyle walked into the room, holding beers and Gatorades. He had peeled off his wet shirt. Jessie pretended to be oblivious to her husband’s impressive abs and chest. How he managed to maintain that physique while working those crazy hours at the firm was beyond her. But she wasn’t complaining.

He came over, handed her the drinks, and sat down beside her.

“Did you know there was a wine fridge in the pantry?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, laughing incredulously. “Didn’t you notice that when we looked at the house the last two times?”

“I just assumed it was another cabinet so I never actually opened it until just now. Pretty cool, huh?”

“Yes, pretty cool, pretty boy,” she agreed, marveling at how his short blond locks stayed perfectly coiffed, no matter how disheveled the rest of him got.

“You’re the pretty one,” he said, brushing Jessie’s shoulder-length light brown hair out of her green eyes and staring at her with his own penetrating blue ones. “It’s a good thing I got you out of LA. I was tired of all those fedora-wearing hipsters hitting on you.”

“The fedoras weren’t a great call, I have to say. I could barely see any of their faces to decide if they were my type.”

“That’s because you’re an Amazon woman,” he said, pretending not to get jealous at her gentle teasing. “Any guy under six feet tall has to crane his neck to look up at a tall drink of water like you.”

“Not you, though,” Jessie murmured softly, suddenly forgetting her aches and pains as she pulled him close toward her. “I’m always looking up at you, hot stuff.”

Her lips were just brushing against his when the doorbell rang.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she groaned.

“Why don’t you answer it?” Kyle suggested. “I’ll find a fresh shirt to throw on.”

Jessie walked to the front door, beer in hand. It was her little rebellion against being interrupted mid-seduction. When she opened the door, she was greeted by a perky redhead who looked to be about her age.

She was cute, with a little button nose, gleaming white teeth, and a sundress that was just tight enough to prove she never missed a Pilates class. In her hands was a tray of what looked to be homemade brownies. Jessie couldn’t help but notice the massive wedding ring on her finger. It gleamed in the late afternoon sun.

Almost without thinking, Jessie found herself profiling the woman: early thirties; got married young; two, maybe three children; stay-at-home-mom but had lots of help; nosy but not in a malicious way.

“Hi,” the woman said in a chipper voice. “I’m Kimberly Miner from across the street. I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“Hi, Kimberly,” Jessie replied in her friendliest, new neighbor voice. “I’m Jessie Hunt. We actually just finished moving our last box in a couple of minutes ago so this is great timing. And this is so sweet of you, literally! Brownies?”

“Yep,” Kimberly said, handing over the tray. Jessie saw her pointedly pretend not to eye the beer in her hand. “They’re kind of my specialty.”

“Well, come on in and have one,” Jessie offered, even though it was the last thing she wanted right now. “I’m sorry the place is such a mess, as are Kyle and I. We’ve been sweating all day. He’s actually looking for a new shirt right now. Can I offer you something to drink? Water? Gatorade. A beer?”

“No thanks. I don’t want to impose. You probably don’t even know which box has your glasses yet. I remember the move-in process. It took us months. Where are you coming from?”