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inner workings of Patterson Higgins’ darkest chambers—i.e., his bedroom.” A dark laugh strums through her just as Devan Abner stands at the front of our circle.

“Welcome everyone to the Grim Readers Book Club!” Devan calls out, and her blonde mane glistens under the lights as she garners the attention of everyone in the room. “On behalf of the original members, I want to welcome all of the new faces we have here tonight. And I want to thank Bizzy Baker Wilder, the owner of the Country Cottage Inn, for graciously hosting us here tonight. The wine, the cheese, the cookies are all fantastic!”

A light applause erupts in agreement.

It’s true, I do own the inn. I inherited it just last December after the original owner met a rather untimely demise. I still get shivers thinking about the poor man’s murder. As much as I hate to admit it, Fish is right. According to the homicidal pattern we seem to be in, we’re due for yet another untimely demise.

Devan holds up the book in her hand. The cover has a picture of a lavender field with a bright blue sky and a discarded revolver.

“Tonight’s selection is Lock, Stock, and Double Barrel Peril by S.L. Teller,” she raises her voice as she says it. “Who here has finished the book?”

Almost every hand in the room goes up save for Macy, but once Patterson Higgins glances in this direction, her hand shoots up like a bottle rocket.

“Okay!” Devan does her best to sound like an enthusiastic book coach ready to cheer us to the literary finish line. “Let’s open up the floor with what you liked best about the book. Anyone like to go first?”

“The cover,” someone shouts from the back and the room fills with groans and chuckles.

Georgie scoffs. “That’s because it needed a little hanky-panky in it.”

Patterson gives a pained smile as he raises his hand. “In the author’s defense, the novel was centered around a murder investigation. It’s tough to work a little romance in there. Does anyone want to give a brief synopsis of the book to get us going?”

That’s interesting. I guess he’s a moderator, too. He must be one of the lead members.

“How about you, Hadley?” His lips curve in the redhead’s direction, but she’s not smiling back. In fact, she looks as if she’s shooting daggers at him.

Macy gasps as she leans my way. “I knew that was her. That’s Hadley Culpepper.”

I inch back and examine my sister. “How in the world do you know her?” I leave out the detail of her being the one that got away from my husband.

“You know her, too,” she whispers. “We used to watch her on that show, Esmeralda the Teenage Magician. I think it was the only thing she did in Hollywood. I read an article a few years back that said she got out of the business—it wasn’t for her or something like that.”

Georgie leans in. “That’s what they all say when they can’t get work.”

Oh my stars, I do remember that show! I was completely addicted. Esmeralda was my very last Halloween costume as a teenager. I used to wish Emmie and I could meet her so that the three of us could be best friends. And to think she’d go on to sleep with my own husband one day.

I sit up straight as I look over at Jasper.

Did she sleep with my husband?

Jasper glances my way and does a double take.

Everything okay? His brows furrow as he asks the question.

No. Everything is not okay.

I turn to face the front again. I’ll deal with him later.

Hadley clears her throat, her eyes still sharpened over Patterson’s. “Why, I would like to give a synopsis. It was a typical pig in a poke plotline. The main character, Summerset, was tricked into purchasing a worthless gold mine. Jed, the murder victim, sprayed down a stretch of land with gold dust and requested a mint for it—which Summerset happily paid after he begged, borrowed, and stole from his parents. Once he realized he’d been had, he tried to demand his money back. And when that didn’t work, he decided to kill Jed.”

“Good.” Patterson winks her way. “You have quite the way with words, Ms. Culpepper. That was a perfect synopsis.” And later tonight I’ll give her a perfect synopsis of how I feel about her—with my body.

My mouth falls open at hearing the salacious thought. I won’t lie. It thrills me to know she has another romantic prospect on the horizon who is not my husband. In fact, Patterson can take a bottle of wine with him on the way out. Heck, they can both take a bottle. I might take one myself and make a party out of it with Jasper. Only I won’t be mentioning a thing about Hadley and her perfect toothy grin to him.

I can’t believe he slept with Esmeralda. Worse yet, I can’t believe I’m steaming mad over it. I’m being ridiculous and I can’t seem to control it. The next thing you know, I’ll fall into a jealous rage and start throwing books at her.

Devan lifts her chin. “Anybody like to fill the rest of the room in on how Summerset murdered Jed?”

“Shelly?” Patterson nods to the woman with the long gray hair, the heavier woman who I bumped into earlier this evening.

“It’s Liv,” she corrects him, and that snippy tone in her voice doesn’t go unnoticed. I bet they would like me to review it. “It would be my pleasure.”

She glowers over in their direction, but I can’t tell if she’s upset with Devan or with Patterson. I’m going to go out on a limb and say it’s the handsome man in the suit. I get the feeling the only people who can tolerate him are the hordes of women who are after him—like my sister. And I bet not one of them is interested in his personality.

Liv glances down at the book in her hand. “Summerset killed Jed by injecting bitter orange into

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