by Sarah Fox
I shuddered at that thought, glad that both men were now behind bars. It still terrified me to think about what would have happened if Mrs. Dixon hadn’t screamed about a strange man on our ward, bringing JT running.
“Pavlina had a charm bracelet that Sasha took from her after he killed her,” I continued. “It was a gift from Tiffany, and Sasha didn’t think she deserved it, since he thought she’d betrayed Tiffany by killing her.”
Mikayla shook her head as she absorbed the story, and we both sipped at our tea in silence for a moment.
“How are you doing?” I asked eventually, ready to change the subject.
“Pretty well, actually,” Mikayla said. “I’m sad that things didn’t work out with Dave, of course, but I also feel kind of relieved. We really weren’t happy together in the end. I wish things could have worked out differently, but they didn’t.”
“Relationships can be so tough,” I said, thinking about my own dilemma with JT.
“They can,” Mikayla agreed, “but I don’t regret giving it a go with Dave.”
“No?”
“No. There was a chance we could have had something great and that chance was worth the risk, no matter the outcome.”
I considered her words as we continued to chat, wondering if they applied as much to me as to her. I didn’t come up with a firm answer.
Once Mikayla had left, I thought about watching television or reading for a while, but then I remembered the flash drive JT had given me. I searched through the items scattered across my coffee table until I found the flash drive under a library book. Then I settled into an armchair with my laptop.
When the computer had finished booting up, I plugged the flash drive into a USB port and opened the folder. It contained fifteen tracks. I scanned down the list of titles, recognizing most of them. When I came to the last track on the list, I froze, my eyes fixed on the title.
My heart fluttered and I forced myself to move, clicking on the track. Familiar music floated from my laptop’s speakers. Even though the computer didn’t provide the best quality of sound, the song was still beautiful, entrancing. I listened to it twice and then stared at the title again.
Snatching up my phone, I tapped out a quick text message, sending it to JT.
Are you home?
I listened to the song again as I waited for a response. When I next checked my phone, JT had replied.
Yes. You want me to come by?
Not at the moment, I wrote back.
Shoving my phone into my purse, I pulled on my boots and coat, grabbing gloves and my slouchy hat on my way out the door. My poor car had been towed from the scene of the accident to a garage, and it would have to stay there for a while. Luckily it wasn’t totaled, but both bumpers needed to be replaced and some scratches repaired. I’d been without a car for many years before I’d bought the MINI Cooper off my cousin, though, and I didn’t mind using public transportation.
I fidgeted on the bus, unable to sit still, and I bounced up off my seat as the bus approached my stop. Fortunately, I no longer suffered from any dizziness, so the abrupt movement didn’t bother me. From the bus stop, I walked the remaining distance to JT’s house at a brisk pace. I jogged up the front steps and knocked on the door, digging through my purse for my keys, so anxious to get inside that I couldn’t bring myself to wait for JT to open the door. But as I was about to insert my key into the lock, the door opened.
“Dori? Did you walk here? I could have come and picked you up.”
“It was nice to get some fresh air,” I said, giving Finnegan’s head a scratch as I stepped into the foyer. “Sorry I didn’t tell you I was coming. I wanted to get here as quickly as I could.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
I held up the flash drive so he could see it. Understanding showed in his eyes.
“Did you really name your new song after me?” I asked.
He hesitated, but only for a second. “Yes. That song . . . It’s how you make me feel.”
My heart swelled with such elation that I thought it might burst. “I make you feel float-away-happy?”
His eyes didn’t move from mine. “Yes.”
I recalled the song’s melancholy moments. My heart sank. “And sad? I make you feel sad?”
“Only when I think about being without you.”
Joy bubbled through me, bringing a smile to my face. Barely aware of Finnegan bouncing around us, I threw my arms around JT and kissed him.
He kissed me back and I forgot about the world around us, my recent brushes with death, everything other than me and JT. I only pulled back when Finnegan gave a bark, vying for our attention. Giving him a distracted pat on the head, I met JT’s brown eyes and smiled again, this time so brightly it probably could have been seen from outer space.
“That’s the sweetest, most amazing, most perfect thing ever.”
JT grinned, his arms still around me. “The song or the kiss?”
“Both,” I said.
Then I kissed him again.
Acknowledgments
THANK YOU TO my agent, Jessica Faust, and my editor at HarperCollins, Rebecca Lucash, for believing in this series and helping me share it with the world. Thanks also to the art department at HarperCollins for designing such fantastic covers for the books in this series, and to the entire Witness Impulse team. I’m also immensely grateful to Sarah Blair for her friendship, support, and willingness to read early versions of my manuscripts.
About the Author
SARAH FOX was born and raised in Vancouver, British Columbia, where she developed a love for mysteries at a young age. When not writing novels or working as a legal writer, she is often reading her way through a stack of books or spending time outdoors with her English springer spaniel.
www.authorsarahfox.com
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Also by Sarah Fox
Deadly Overtures
Death in A Major
Dead Ringer
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEADLY OVERTURES. Copyright © 2016 by Sarah Fox. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books. For information, address HarperCollins Publishers, 195 Broadway, New York, NY 10007.
EPub Edition JUNE 2016 ISBN: 9780062413055
Print Edition ISBN: 9780062413062
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