By Stephanie Bond
Reliable ladies end last... that is Belinda Hennessey's new philosophy in existence, paintings, and love after relocating to Atlanta to flee a disastrous six-hour marriage. Now she has a killer task, spunky carpooling gal-pals, and the velvety voice of a site visitors helicopter reporter to lead her on her manner. She's even feeling energetic adequate to give a contribution to the handbook on relationships and males her neighbors are writing to kill time in the course of their shuttle. yet then a site visitors mishap with a drop-dead beautiful cop unleashes a sequence of occasions that bolsters Belinda's new bad-girl angle -- she will get a tune-up from "Officer Goodbody," catches the attention of the throaty site visitors reporter, and is focused for an incredible merchandising. yet prior to Belinda can say "corner office," a coworker is murdered, and proof issues to a carpool conspiracy! With a killer at the unfastened, her associates at one another's throats, and males supplying southern convenience, Belinda is familiar with just one factor for sure: hiking to the pinnacle will be homicide on a lady.
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Reliable women end final. .. that is Belinda Hennessey's new philosophy in existence, paintings, and love after relocating to Atlanta to flee a disastrous six-hour marriage. Now she has a killer activity, spunky carpooling gal-pals, and the velvety voice of a site visitors helicopter reporter to lead her on her approach. She's even feeling full of life adequate to give a contribution to the guide on relationships and males her neighbors are writing to kill time in the course of their trip.
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It’s no big deal, you know. ” “No one is under arrest,” Libby said. ” Carole made a face, then twisted and looked out the rear window. ” “It was the tears, I’m telling you,” Libby said. ” Rosemary scoffed. ” Libby sighed. “But this is so much more chivalrous. I loooove big Southern men. ” Belinda stopped working at the rat’s tail in her hair. ” Carole asked. She gave up on her hopeless hair and pulled out the three citations signed by—she squinted at the scrawl— KILL THE COMPETITION 29 Lt. W.
How had he gotten her address—from her mother? Not that she would be difﬁcult to track down using a public records source. Regardless, a sovereign woman would write Return to Sender on the front and send it winging back to Cincinnati. She opened the can of soda, took a sip, and held the envelope up to the window. But what if the contents of his card offered some explanation to his behavior—he was gay, he was stupid, he was dying—that could give her closure? It was a nice envelope, buff-colored, substantial in pound and gently textured.
The Out of Service sign on the sixth one gave her pause—and the willies. Poor Jeanie Lawford. Belinda shivered. If some horrible accident were to befall her, what would her epitaph read? Here lies Belinda Hennessey. She was lacking. Thankfully, her disheartening train of thought was derailed by the arrival of an elevator. After a glance to ensure the ﬂoor of the car was intact, she rushed forward, only to collide with a tall blond man exiting with equal momentum. She ricocheted off his leather bomber jacket but, with improvised acrobatics, managed to stay on her feet.