Read Online The Final Victim by Wendy Corsi Staub - Free Book Online Page B

doesn’t recognize me, and those cousins . . .
    Not to mention the ghosts, which probably now include Grandaddy’s.
    If she says all that to Royce, he’ll undoubtedly feel even more guilty than he already does. He’ll quite possibly change his mind about leaving.
    But whining to get one’s way is a most unattractive characteristic, as Charlotte’s mother liked to remind her.
    There’s nothing to do but hold her breath and let go.
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    This deserted stretch of beach is in a cove that lies, mercifully, a few miles north of the public beach where both Adam and Theo drowned.
    But as Lianna watches Kevin spread out a blanket, it’s all she can do to keep her feet firmly rooted in the sand.
    Listening to the surf, breathing the warm salt breeze, it’s all coming back.
    â€œThirsty?” Kevin asks, looking up as he pulls something from the backpack he was toting.
    About to say No , and Please take me home, Lianna realizes what it is.
    A bottle of wine.
    She and her friends have snuck enough tastes from their parents’ liquor supplies in the past year for Lianna to recognize a fortuitous escape route when she sees one.
    â€œI’ll have a sip,” she hears herself say, as she sinks onto the blanket beside a smiling Kevin.
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    â€œDid you remember to put that leftover potato salad into the bag with your sandwich?” Mimi asks as, Cam in tow, she follows Jed to the tiny kitchen with its cracked linoleum, warped cupboard doors, and scratched laminate countertops.
    â€œNo, but I don’t want it.”
    â€œAre you sure?”
    â€œPositive. My stomach’s a little queasy tonight.”
    â€œAgain?”
    â€œNot too bad. But I can’t go around eating all that potato salad anyway. I’m getting a gut, see?” Jed pats his stomach.
    â€œWhere?”
    â€œThere.” He pinches an imaginary inch.
    She shakes her head. “I don’t see a gut, but even if you had one, I’d think it’s cute.”
    â€œReally? Then keep making potato salad and those homemade biscuits you gave me yesterday. By Christmas I’ll look like Santa.” He leans in and plants a kiss on her cheek as she pours milk into a sippy cup for Cam.
    â€œDaddy, is it Christmas? Is Santa coming?” the little boy asks as his father swings him up into his arms.
    â€œNot for six more months, and only if you’re good,” Jed tells him. “Which means no more flushing things down the potty.”
    â€œWhat about pee pee?”
    â€œPee pee, yes. Anything else, no.”
    â€œWhat about—”
    â€œHey, you’re about to sabotage the potty training, Jed,” Mimi warns, taking Cameron from him with a laugh.
    â€œJust trying to prevent having the plumber here twice in one week,” he says, retrieving his brown paper bag lunch from the fridge and heading for the back door. “See you all in the morning.”
    â€œBe safe,” Mimi calls after him, same as always.
    â€œDon’t worry,” he replies, same as always, before he closes the door.
    But she does worry. She can’t help it. Safely sheltered in their cozy, two-bedroom canal-side home every night after dark, she doesn’t like to think of him out there working on the damaged bridge under the glare of construction spotlights.
    So many things can happen. There are deadly gators and poisonous snakes in the surrounding marshland, not to mention heavy equipment that can malfunction or tip and crush a person. Jed’s seen that happen, and worse, in his decade as a construction worker. But he stopped telling her horror stories early on, realizing that what might entertain a casual girlfriend could scare off a potential wife.
    Mimi can’t bear the thought of anything happening to Jed. He’s her whole world—he and Cameron.
    Nor does she like to think about how close she once came to losing both of them.
    But Jed doesn’t know about that,