The Sister-in-Law: An absolutely gripping summer thriller for 2021, Pamela Crane [reading eggs books .txt] 📗

it Fate’s punishment for what Ben did to Natalie? Did this story intersect more with our life than I knew?

‘Well,’ Natalie slapped her knee as she rose to her feet, ‘Medea had hoped to reach out to Benny when she turned eighteen, but I guess that won’t happen now. I’m sorry for your loss, by the way. Benny was a great guy, and crazy about you.’

Tears tickled the corners of my eyes. Yes, yes he was – during the highs of our marriage, at least. And while he hadn’t been truthful with me about a lot of things, at least he cared enough about his daughter to ensure she was taken care of. I had always seen the goodness in his heart; I hated that a few bad choices had soured a lifetime of love. Maybe focusing on the fact that Ben cared so deeply about his children could help me reconcile the liar and the lover.

‘Yes, he was one of the good ones.’

I rose to my feet, thanking her for her time. I felt bad for what Ben had done to me, but worse for what he had done to Natalie and Medea. He had betrayed me after years of loyal love, but he had completely neglected her from the beginning, leaving his pregnant girlfriend, then never even setting eyes on his own child. There was no way to make up for it now.

‘Before you go,’ Natalie’s voice halted with hesitation, ‘you mentioned something about a life insurance policy?’

Or maybe there was a way to make up for it, to the tune of a one point five million dollars.

Chapter 33

Candace

When you want to hide from the world, hide in me.

There was something about an unexpected knock at the door that sent a jolt of panic through me. Like Pavlov’s dog, but in reverse. Instead of hearing a bell and drooling, I heard a doorbell and hid. It could have been PTSD from all the childhood evictions I experienced when we were forced out of home after home. Landlords are rarely kind when they’re hauling you out on the street. Or it could have derived from the vivid recall of cops showing up at these various temporary homes to drag my dad off to a night in the slammer for yet another domestic assault. It tended to leave an imprint on a child’s memory. It even crossed my mind that it could be just because I didn’t want to be caught in my pajamas on a Wednesday afternoon, but that sounded way too normal and conventional an excuse for me. Whatever it was that had turned me knock-phobic, it meant I never liked surprises. I always wanted to know what to expect.

Deep down, I knew the real reason. It was because I was always running, always hiding. Always waiting to be found. It’s like swimming in the ocean at night, when you suddenly start to wonder what’s underneath the water. Because you’re always certain there’s a shark circling your legs.

I was in the kitchen making a snack when the first knock came.

I was in the living room peering through the curtains when the second knock followed.

By the time the doorbell rang, I was running to the entryway.

My lungs snatched for air. I threw open the door and saw Noah standing on the porch, resolute in the way he cocked his hips, his gaze roving my body. Not in a seductive way – the scrutiny was pure, naked hatred. He wasn’t going to leave until he’d had words. I knew this from sharing years of life with him. Was he here to drag me back into the nightmare of my past? Because driving eight hours from Pennsylvania to North Carolina seemed a bit extreme just to collect on a $500 debt.

Noah didn’t scare me anymore. In fact, he should have been scared of me. I was tougher now, a seasoned fighter, thanks to him. There’s a point in life when you simply won’t let yourself get knocked down anymore. I had finally passed that point.

‘Is someone at the door?’ Harper called from somewhere inside the house.

I didn’t want Harper finding Noah here, tattletaling to Lane about it. ‘I got it. It was just a delivery!’

I sucked in a steadying breath and stepped out on to the porch, pulling the door shut behind me. Seeing Noah was like traveling through time. I had been preparing for this moment since the long Greyhound bus ride away from him. And finally, here I was, ready to take him on. I’d wasted my youth idolizing him, but looking at him now, he was just a tarnished piece of junk that left gilt on my fingers.

‘Noah Gosling. I never expected to see you again.’

‘You don’t look happy to see me.’

‘Did you expect otherwise?’

My ex, in the flesh, wearing ripped jeans that hung loosely from bony hips and a frayed Def Leppard T-shirt worn so thin that it looked like he got it at an actual Def Leppard concert in the 1980s. He still had the lip piercing, but I no longer found the poor-boy grunge look sexy. I had matured. Now I found money, success, and true love sexy.

‘After all our years together I hoped for a little nostalgia. Anyway, Candace Moriarty … or whatever last name you’re going by now. I found that pretty clever, by the way, you being a Sherlock Holmes fan and all.’

‘Uh huh. How did you find me?’

‘Don’t you know you can find just about anything about everyone online these days? All I needed was your new alias, which your sister-in-law so kindly gave me.’

Harper, of course. I would have to remember to thank her with a slap to the face.

‘The rest was simply filling in the blanks on where you lived and a search on a public records database. Did you know you can even find cell phone numbers online … for free? That was an unexpected surprise.’

‘So that was you who texted me that lovely little threat. What