I had it all planned out perfectly yesterday. I had a two o’clock massage client. And as soon as I finished with her, I was going to head over to Quinn’s monstrosity of a house. Except I wasn’t going there to see my sister. Yes, it’s true. I’ve been sleeping with my sister’s husband for the last six months. I should probably use the past tense, since Derek will not be sleeping with me anymore—never again—given that he’s lying on a slab in the morgue. After she murdered him. I can’t even think about it. The sight of his dead body lying on the kitchen floor will be burned in my eyes forever.
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Gasp
