by G. T. Herren
Margery started crying. “Baby, please, put the gun down. I’m begging you. Please.”
Amanda Beth turned the gun towards her mother. “It’s gone too far, Mother!” she ranted. “You ruined my life!”
While Amanda Beth was screaming at her mother, out of the corner of my eye I saw Billy move a few more steps forward. He gestured at me with his head, and I assumed he wanted me to distract her.
“And you tried to run me over?” I asked when she paused for breath. “After you killed Megan?”
The gun swung around to me. She looked puzzled. “I didn’t try to run you over.” But the puzzlement faded away and her face turned red again as she shouted, “You shouldn’t have called Jane!”
If it wasn’t Amanda Beth, then who?
Yeah, that’s what you need to be worried about right now, with a crazy woman holding a gun on you. Talk about Stupid Girl.
I could hear my heart pounding as I desperately tried to think of something, anything, to say.
Billy took another step forward.
“Stay back!” She swung the gun around again and pointed it at him.
While she was focused on him, I started slipping over to the wall on the side. If he kept her distracted long enough…
“Give me the gun, Amanda Beth,” he said softly. “You’re not well, like you weren’t when you hit Lisa with your car. We need to get you some help, now. And if you get help, we can be together. Isn’t that what you want, Mandygirl?”
I glanced over at Amanda Beth but she was completely focused on Billy.
“Do you mean that?” Her face looked so hopeful that my heart almost broke for her. “It’s all I wanted, you know, Billy. All I ever wanted.” She smiled so longingly. He was almost close enough to grab the gun. Seeing my chance, I started creeping along the wall. Margery looked over at me…
And so did Amanda Beth.
I froze.
Amanda Beth turned the gun towards me.
What happened next was pure instinct— because I would have never in a million years have leaped at someone holding a gun. I may be Stupid Girl sometimes, but I’m not that stupid.
So, I threw my purse at her.
The gun went off. My ears started ringing and I could smell the powder.
Now I leapt. I crashed into Amanda Beth’s legs and the two of us went down on the marble floor.
She grabbed my hair with both hands and yanked.
I screamed, swinging both fists in the general direction of her face. I heard her shriek as my left hand connected with one of her cheeks, and she let go of my hair. I rolled off her and up onto my knees.
“It’s okay,” Billy said, “I’ve got the gun.”
I glared at him. “Now you tell me.”
Amanda Beth covered her face with her hands and started crying.
“All I ever wanted…”
Epilogue
It was after ten as I climbed the steps to my apartment.
I was so tired I could hardly stand it. All I wanted to do was collapse into bed and sleep for the week. I’d been with the cops for hours, going over my statement so many times I was almost positive I was going to have a mental break similar to Amanda Beth’s if I had to go over it one more time. Venus and Blaine had handed me off to another detective, who didn’t seem to believe anything I was saying. His patronizing tone finally got too much for me, and I am not proud to say that I kind of went off on him.
I will say he’ll undoubtedly think before he patronizes another woman, though.
I blame the stress of the day, and that’s the story I’m sticking to.
Amanda Beth had been taken to the Psych ward at LSU Medical Center, where she was going to be assessed as to whether she’d be able to stand trial.
I wasn’t betting on that. She’d gotten away with murder once before, and Margery would undoubtedly do anything she could to help her get out from under again. Margery insisted Amanda Beth forced her to call me and invite me over, and she had no idea that Amanda Beth was going to kill me. That was her story, and she was sticking to it.
You gotta love the rich and powerful.
I flagged a cab outside the police station, and all the way home all I could think about was how dangerous secrets were. I knew what I had to do, whether I wanted to do it or not.
I unlocked my door and walked inside, almost jumping out of my skin when Ryan said, “Ah, there you are.”
I closed the door and took the glass of wine he was holding for me. I sank down on the couch beside him. “Oh, the day I’ve had, baby.” I put my head down on his shoulder.
“I know. Blaine called Mom and Mom called me, so I thought I’d come over here and wait for you.” He started rubbing my shoulders, working on the knots. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” He leaned over and kissed the top of my head. “I made beef stroganoff— it’s keeping warm in the oven. Are you hungry?”
“Starved.” I smiled wanly at him. “I so don’t deserve you.”
“You always say that.” He smiled back at me. “And it’s not true. I love you, Paige. I really do. And so do the boys.” He got up. “Let me make you a plate.”
I grabbed his hand. “Wait. Before that, sit. I need to talk to you about something.”
His eyebrows met over the bridge of his nose. “That sounds kind of serious.”
I nodded. “Sit.” When he did, I turned to him. “I haven’t been completely honest with you about my past, honey.”
“We don’t have to talk about this now,” he said. “You’re tired, and you’ve had a pretty crappy weekend, as best I can tell. It can wait.”
“I love you so much, but no, it can’t wait another minute.” I took a deep breath. “Because I might chicken out. And all the way home all I could think about was how keeping secrets can destroy the future.” If Margery hadn’t bought Amanda Beth out of a criminal murder investigation when she was a teenager, maybe Amanda Beth wouldn’t have gotten it twisted inside her crazed mind that she could get away with murder again. But where to start?
“I’ve been getting some weird emails, Ryan.” I said slowly, staring at my hands. “And today someone tried to kill me.” Amanda Beth insisted she wasn’t the one who’d tried to run me down. Her car was a blue Porsche, for one thing. I laughed, a little bitterly. Just another regular Sunday in the life of Paige Tourneur, Girl Reporter..
He nodded. “You don’t have to do this, Paige.”
I looked at his handsome face, and my eyes filled with tears. My God, I love him so much.
I wiped at my eyes. “There are some things about my past that I need to take care of, Ryan. I’ve been putting this all off for so long… I guess I was thinking if I ignored it all, pretended it didn’t exist, maybe it would just go away… but I’m going to take care of it. I am. And when it’s all taken care of, I promise, I will tell you all about it, okay? And if you still want me…”
He put his arms around me and pulled me in close, kissing the top of my head. “Paige, I can’t think of anything you could have done that would change how I feel about you.”
Famous last words, I thought, closing my eyes and enjoying his warmth as I rested my face against his strong chest.
Be prepared, Laura Pillsbury, whoever you are— I’m coming for you.
THE END
DEDICATION AND
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
This is for all the FL’s—
and you know who you are
As always, there are so many people to thank for keeping me sane during the writing of this book!
Julie Smith is my biggest cheerleader, thanks for always believing in Paige and pushing me to write about her.
Margery Flax was my personal shopper for the Grande Dames— and has done a great job picking out my clothes, too. Thanks!
My co-workers at the day job make going to the office a pleasure rather than an ordeal! So let me give a big thanks and shout out to Josh Fegley, Mark Drake, Joey Olsen, Brandon Benson, Matt Valletta, Nick Parr, Alex Leigh, and Drew Daven
port.
And my own Grande Dames, who always have my back: Victoria A. Brownworth, Jean Redmann, Pat Brady, Bev Marshall, Susan Larson, Janet Dailey Duval, Chris Wiltz, Nevada Barr, and Allison Vertovec.
Robin Pearce, Meghan Davidson, Daniella Rivera, and Martin Strickland— still miss you guys every day.
Everyone at BooksBNimble have proven to be a joy to work with. I thank you all for not minding me being a bit of a nutjob.
The Houstonians: Timothy J. Lambert, Becky Cochrane, Rhonda Rubin, Lindsay Smolensky, and of course the gang at Murder by the Book rock so hard!
And of course, Paul, who had to put up with me every day and has yet to run away.
Thanks, everyone, for the support always and coming along for the ride!
WE GUARANTEE OUR BOOKS…
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We’ll give you your money back if you find as many as five errors. (That’s five verified errors— punctuation or spelling that leaves no room for judgment calls or alternatives.) If you find more than five, we’ll give you a dollar for every one you catch up to twenty. More than that and we reproof and remake the book. Email [email protected] and it shall be done!
If You Enjoyed This Book…
DEAD HOUSEWIVES OF NEW ORLEANS is part of a “season” of stories, the second episode in Herren’s Paige Tourneur Missing Husband Series. It’s even more fun if you tune in early. Get the prequel, FASHION VICTIM (http://amzn.to/ZAchf2). And watch for: THE MAD CATTER.
Other Books by
G.T. (writing as Greg) Herren
The Paige Tourneur Missing Husband Series
Fashion Victim
THE CHANSE MACLEOD MYSTERIES
Murder in the Rue Dauphine
Murder in the Rue St. Ann
Murder in the Rue Chartres
Murder in the Rue Ursulines
Murder in the Garden District
Murder in the Irish Channel
THE SCOTTY BRADLEY ADVENTURES
Bourbon Street Blues
Jackson Square Jazz
Mardi Gras Mambo
Vieux Carre Voodoo
Who Dat Whodunnit
As well as the young adult novels…
Sorceress
Sleeping Angel
Sara
Timothy
A Respectful Request
We hope you enjoyed Dead Housewives of New Orleans and wonder if you’d consider reviewing it on Goodreads, Amazon (http://amzn.to/11rKUCE), or wherever you purchased it? The author would be most grateful. And if you’d like to see other forthcoming mysteries, let us keep you up-to-date. Sign up for our mailing list at www.booksbnimble.com.
About the Author
GREG HERREN is a New Orleans-based author and editor. Former editor of Lambda Book Report, he is also a co-founder of the Saints and Sinners Literary Festival, which takes place in New Orleans every May. He is the author of twenty novels, including the Lambda Literary Award winning Murder in the Rue Chartres, called by the New Orleans Times-Picayune “the most honest depiction of life in post-Katrina New Orleans published thus far.” He co-edited Love, Bourbon Street: Reflections on New Orleans, which also won the Lambda Literary Award. He has published over fifty short stories in markets as varied as Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine to the critically acclaimed anthology New Orleans Noir to various websites, literary magazines, and anthologies. As G.T. Herren, he’s also the author of Fashion Victim, the first book in the Paige Tourneur Missing Husband Series.