No Way Out by Fern Michaels (best books to read for students txt) 📕

At exactly 3:30, the buzzer at the side gate rang. “Come around front,” she said through the intercom.

Jackson led the way as they walked through the front gate. Colleen was carrying a loaf of her famous zucchini bread. She heard the bolts and locks clicking and got a little jumpy.

Libby swung the front door open. “Please come in. It’s so nice to finally meet you in person.” She shook Colleen’s hand, then Jackson’s. Buddy was woofing and wagging his tail. “Why don’t you boys go out back? I know Buddy has been waiting. He’ll show you the way.” Buddy headed for the laundry-room door, and Jackson was about to follow him through the doggie door. Both women burst out laughing. “You can open the door, Jackson,” Libby informed him. “The porch door, too.” Jackson blushed. He was excited to be in the mysterious lady’s house.

“Your house is pretty cool,” he said as he was shutting the porch door.

“Please, come and sit.” Libby motioned to the dining-room table that overlooked the yard.

“You have a lovely place. And the garden is beautiful,” Colleen said with awe. Her mind was going a mile a minute.

What should she say next? Should she ask her any questions? “It was so nice of you to invite me over. I feel honored.” Colleen’s face flushed.

Libby chuckled. “Honored to be invited to the ‘crazy lady’s’ house?” She used air quotes for “crazy lady.”

“You’re not a crazy lady.” Colleen leaned in a bit. “Are you?” Both women gave out a guffaw.

“I certainly don’t think so, but there may be others who would disagree.” Libby was very comfortable with the situation and was considering telling Colleen her story. She felt it was some kind of insurance in case something happened to her, or if she were in distress.

“Do you prefer tea or coffee?”

“Tea. Herbal, if you have it.”

“I do. Chamomile? Red zinger? Lemon zinger? I think I have every zinger flavor.”

“Red zinger, please. Thank you,” Colleen replied. “I brought you a zucchini bread. Jackson says ‘yuck’ because of the zucchini, but he loves the bread. He thinks I’m kidding when I say that there are vegetables in it.”

Libby put the kettle on and took two dessert plates from the cabinet, along with two mugs. “Honey?”

“Yes, please.”

They made small talk about the garden as they watched Jackson toss the ball to Buddy and Buddy return it. Then they started to run around the perimeter of the yard.

Colleen sipped her tea. “So that’s what they do all afternoon?”

“Yes. It’s exhausting to watch.” Libby smiled. She took a deep breath.

“Colleen, there’s something I must confide in you.”

Colleen was taken aback. “What is it?”

Libby took a moment. “Where do I begin? OK. Here goes. My name is not Ellie Bowman. It’s Libby Gannon.”

“Oh?” Colleen tried to act nonchalant.

“I came here after a terrible accident. Although now we don’t know if it was truly an accident.” Ellie proceeded to tell her the story and how she was found at the bottom of a set of steps that led to the front door of a brownstone in Greenwich Village. She went on to describe being in the hospital and not having any recollection of what had happened except for feeling anxiety and fear. Because she could not remember the incident, she was terrified to remain in New York and had moved to Hibbing under an assumed name.

Colleen’s mouth was agape. “Oh my word. So you’ve been sequestered here because of the accident, and you had amnesia?”

“At first, the therapist said it was due to the concussion and that many people who have traumatic experiences suppress the memory. I had hoped I would remember something sooner than now.”

“What do you mean?” Colleen was unclear as to Ellie’s, Libby’s, timeline.

“My boyfriend at the time left the city abruptly. Never visited me or called my family.”

“Now that is what I would call scummy,” Colleen said.

“No one had heard from him for two years until last week.”

Libby took a sip of her tea.

“He called my best friend’s husband, asking for $5,000.”

“That is rather audacious, wouldn’t you say?” Colleen was disgusted.

“I could think of a lot of words, but I’ll keep it clean.” Libby chuckled.

“Did they send him the money?”

“Christian is going to send it overnight to Denver.”

“But why?”

“Because it was the only way we could find out what city or town he was sliming his way through.”

“How will that do anything?”

“First off, I will know where he is, for at least a couple of days. I already found out where he’ll be staying. At the Ameristar in Black Hawk.”

“How did you find out?”

“Deduction, my friend.” Libby continued to explain how she had narrowed it down to an area where there was a casino, which was most likely where he would go. She then went on to tell her about calling the casinos to ask if he had checked in because she wanted to surprise him with champagne. If the concierge told her he didn’t have a reservation, she moved on to the next casino until she found the one where he planned to stay.

“What are you going to do now?” Colleen was beyond intrigued.

“I notified the NYPD, for whom it was a cold case, and told them that I had my memory back, was assaulted by my boyfriend, and knew his whereabouts, at least for the next couple of days.”

“What did they say?”

“It would take time.” Libby sighed.

“Are you going to be all right?”

“Besides the security system, I have a Taser, a baseball bat, and pepper spray, so I should be. And I’m counting on Buddy to keep him at bay. But I also keep the pepper spray handy. I have a canister in every room. What, me paranoid?” Libby laughed.

“I don’t blame you. No wonder you’ve never left the house. If you need anything, let me know. Officer Pedone has been wonderful.”

Libby could sense a bit of a crush from the tone of Colleen’s voice.

“I noticed he’s stopped by a few