A Fatal Affair

by A.R. Torre

Something about the picture was off, and he stared at it, trying to figure out what it was. It was her smile. It was so stiff, so forced—but also so weak.

scene. “I’m sorry, who is them? Trent and who?” She followed the actress down the stairs. “I don’t know who the woman is. Trent doesn’t typically bring guests.

Hugh’s stiff regime of no clutter, animals, or children . . . She placed her hand on her stomach, the muscles still tight and flat, despite the fact that she was almost two months pregnant.

These assholes would be going over the space with fine-tooth combs, and there was a lot in that guesthouse to find.

“A woman who needs you. Don’t fall on the sword for him. Please.” She acted like it was easy, but she had no idea how many women had died.

Kyle had been proud of the award of an all-expenses-paid trip to California, but Kerry’s face had gone white.

But in his gut, he knew something was wrong. Kerry was a lot of things, but she wouldn’t go MIA, not with Miles. “Call the police,” he said. “I’ll look into getting a flight.”

Still, he had to do what the husband said; otherwise it would look suspicious. And he should tell Ian. The Protect the Children director would flip if Nolan called the police without first clueing him in.

Nolan had been one of the last people to see her, had given her and Miles a ride from the airport to the hotel last night, and now she was gone. Maybe dead.

“Yes, and we’re all under the same contract.” The woman met her gaze squarely, and if this was how tough she was with law enforcement, Farah would have hated to see her against a hydrangea.

“I can’t speak for them, but personally, I won’t.”

I’m not the first dead one. At the time that I’m writing this, there have been at least four of us killed. And

Well dmn!

“It’s about delivering justice. Believe it or not, my brother had a very strict moral code. He didn’t get his kicks off hurting people. If you’re saying he tortured that woman, then she must have deserved it—at least in his mind. And maybe then he couldn’t handle what he’d done.”

You asked if a murder and suicide fit with his character, and I’m telling you the only scenario I can come up with for how and why he would have tied someone up and stabbed them to death.”

Even Jeff didn’t know her past, or about the blood, money, and heartbreak that had led to this throne. If he thought he could push her around, he was wrong. Everyone who pushed her around learned that lesson at some point. When the attorney finally spoke, his aw-shucks tone had turned to steel. “No offense, Nora, but I don’t respond well to orders. You wanted the best and I’m it. How about treating me with some respect?”

How often does Trent bring guests over? Never. He did all the time, before. Before she forgot, Farah wrote

Brenda said nothing, but Farah agreed with Kevin’s point. It was strange.

Crawl under the sheets, hug one of those impossibly soft pillows to her body, and cry. Eventually, the police were going to find out the truth.

stomach, because he had never had so much hurt in his belly before. All he could think about was food. He’d even eat broccoli at this point. Even carrots.

Did anyone even know he was in here?

fit. Somewhere, she had a husband. Where was he? And what was Trent Iverson doing with a married mother?

No, that wasn’t what he was saying. Farah caught on immediately, and knew what was coming as Harry shook his head and spoke gravely. “I’m saying this isn’t the first time he’s done this. Trent Iverson has killed before.”

But his car—he was in his Shelby—it doesn’t have tinted windows, so I got a pretty good look when he came through. There wasn’t anyone in with him.”

“She didn’t come through here. Not unless she was hiding in someone’s back seat or trunk.” “Yeah, hiding,” Farah mumbled, as they waved to Dottie and pulled forward through the gate.

“We looked at the hotel lock record, then brought up the lobby cameras, just to see if we could make sense of things. On the upside, we know more. The bad news is, it isn’t good.” Kyle sat back down. “Tell me.” “Your wife and Miles came through the lobby at seven forty last night and took the elevators up, then unlocked the door to their room.

And this was a safe area and not too late at night. I’d let my wife walk around on that street. It’s just—it’s odd. Something doesn’t feel right.”

“Yeah. Definitely.” They needed to fire this one. Immediately, before she cleaned another room.

Yeah, Trent’s car did do that. The man didn’t have a retirement plan, but he had a collector’s-edition muscle car that could make your panties weep. That car was the thing that had first caught her eye. So impractical. So feral. So fucking sexy and powerful.

“Keep telling yourself that, princess.” He chuckled and took the steps slowly, flipping the key chain around his finger as he approached the car at the curb. “And when you decide you aren’t good, call me.”

She had lasted four more months, and then she had done just that.

He stared into the mirror and wondered if it was too late to walk downstairs and confess everything. To give up this life. Squander all the hard work and the money and the fame behind it.

Turning his head, he looked toward her suite, which took up the opposite end of the floor. Maybe he could tell her the truth. If anyone understood, she would. She’d had her own complicated relationship with both of them.

One lost brother, a ship at sea that didn’t know whether to moor to Nora or tie an anchor to her chest.

And he hadn’t been thinking about the possibility of a broccoli cake when he followed her. He had just wanted to ask her how long she would be gone.

And when she fell into the car like that, he just wanted to make sure she was okay.

There’s some things in the basement I want to clean out.

It was smaller, and it had a few of the moms who’d been kicked out of the other group. Joining that group is why I’m going to die. Of course, I didn’t realize that in the beginning.

Another red flag flared. Kerry had once had over a thousand friends—ridiculous, because who actually knew that many people? But now she was down to zero.

Bonnie: Oh no. You aren’t going, are you? Kerry: My husband is making me. I can’t get out of it. Bonnie: You have to. Fake a sickness. Jump in front of a car. Do something. Kerry: Maybe it’ll be okay. Bonnie: Don’t risk it.

One item in the midst of the amber bottles stood out. “Well,” she drawled. “Lookee here.”

But not her. No, Nora had needed both the security of Hugh and the passion of Trent.

The root problem was that she had given her heart to Trent years ago, and he had never, not in the decade that she was away, given it back.

“Oh my God,” she snapped. “I’m not. Go away. Please.” “It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone.” He grinned at her. “It’ll be our secret.” And it was. It was their secret when he stole her a key to the furniture trailer, and she started spending each night on a couch instead of a golf cart.

Trent iced it and stole her some makeup from the set and told her that she should run away and that he would protect her. She was thirteen and he was fourteen and she was in love and he was her protector. Then the show was canceled, and she was sent back to Kansas.

Bonnie had responded, and he stared at the answer. You know we can’t do phone. Call me through messenger.

You know we can’t do phone. Well, why the hell not? Kerry, who had always been a bit dull, was getting a lot more interesting. And dontcha know, turns out he liked a dull wife better.

“Please,” he begged. “I don’t know what’s going on. Is she leaving me? Does she have Miles?” “You’re missing your kid too?” Alarm coated the question, and he wanted to reach through the computer and shake the answers out of this woman. “Yes,” he spat out. “Please. What do ya know?” “I don’t know anything,” she said, her voice dropping to almost a whisper. “None of us do.”

I don’t know anything, she had said. None of us do. Who was us?

Clearly, Nolan was innocent. Clearly. Clearly. Clearly. Clearly. “God, you’re mopey,” Josie complained from his perch on the kitchen counter.

“I’m sorry, Kyle. She’s dead.” His butt hit the hard seat. This couldn’t be real. “Are you sure?”