Deadly Deception. Brenda Gunn

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      Copyright © 2001 by Brenda Gunn and Shannon Richardson

      All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form whatsoever, including electronic, mechanical, or any information storage or retrieval system, except as may be expressly permitted in the 1976 Copyright Act or in writing from the publisher. Requests for permission should be addressed to:

      New Horizon Press

      P.O. Box 669

      Far Hills, NJ 07931

      Gunn, Brenda and Richardson, Shannon

       Deadly Deception: A True Story of Duplicity, Greed, Dangerous Passions and One Woman’s Courage

      Library of Congress Control Number: 00-132568

      ISBN-13 (eBook): 978-0-88282-522-9

      New Horizon Press

      2005 2004 2003 2002 2001 / 5 4 3 2 1

      If you do good, good will be done to you;

      But if you do evil, the same will be

      Measured back to you again.

      – Fables of Bidpai

      Dedicated to every woman

      who has had to fight for her life

      and the sacrifices it cost her.

      – Brenda Gunn

      To my loving family,

      Gene, Danielle, Justice and Ashton,

      who have sacrificed so much

      to support me during my writing career.

      – Shannon Richardson

      TABLE OF CONTENTS

      Chapter 9 Of Suspicious Origin

      Chapter 10 Insurance

      Chapter 11 Bad Business

      Chapter 12 The Honeymoon Is Over

      Chapter 13 Suspicions

      Chapter 14 The Hunt

      Chapter 15 Sour Melody

      Chapter 16 Spoiled

      Chapter 17 Red Light Special

      Chapter 18 Lovesick

      Chapter 19 Anniversary Waltz

      Chapter 20 A Bad Omen

      Chapter 21 Confessions

      Chapter 22 No Idle Conversation

      Chapter 23 A Doubtful Future

      Chapter 24 A Call in the Night

      Chapter 25 Proof Positive

      Chapter 26 In Her Own Hands

      Chapter 27 Watch and Wait

      Chapter 28 No Protection

      Chapter 29 Of Dreams, Delusions & Nightmares

      Chapter 30 Fatal Deceit

       Epilogue

       PROLOGUE

      She was lying on a pristine white sandy beach on the island of St. Martin. It was one of those deliciously hot and sunny Caribbean days, when the aquamarine sky shone like a jewel. Brenda was lying on her back and Glen had brought her an icy Piña Colada to drink.

      Suddenly, just as she opened her mouth to take a sip, the gentle wind whipped up, making the beach umbrella beside her sway back and forth spraying sand. Startled, Brenda began to choke.

      Her coughing woke her. The Caribbean faded. She opened her eyes but couldn’t see anything through the billowing clouds surrounding her. Her chest began to ache and another severe bout of coughing overtook her. She tried to sit up and catch her breath. That’s when she knew this wasn’t a dream and they weren’t clouds at all, but smoke. The temperature was rising in the room. The smoke grew thicker, leaving a bitter, acrid taste in her mouth.

      Wet with perspiration, Brenda felt a trickle of sweat run into the corner of her mouth. It was salty, but her mouth was so parched from the heat that any moisture was welcome. She tried to look around her bedroom, but smoke stung her eyes. She couldn’t see anything. Which direction is the door? Wait! If it’s smoky in here, the fire isn’t from outside the house. I need to find the window so I can get out!

      Why did she feel so groggy? What had she drunk last night? It was only one glass of wine. Struggling to her feet, Brenda felt around for the edge of the bed. If she could follow its perimeter, she’d find the window. It was getting tougher to breathe. Her chest hurt, her eyes stung and she was getting weaker by the moment.

      Brenda held her hand in front of her face but couldn’t see it through the smoke. This must be what it’s like to be blind. Unable to see, she collided with the wall. She hadn’t realized how dependent she was on her sight. I’ve never been so disoriented, she thought. I have to picture the room in my mind, she told herself. But she couldn’t get her mind to function. It’s as if I’ve been drugged. She tried to pull herself together and felt along the wall, hoping to find some landmarks, but if there were any, she missed them.

      She decided the best thing to do was continue following the wall. When she got to the door frame, she realized she’d gone in the wrong direction. The door itself felt like a hot iron. Wafts of black smoke pungent with the smell of charcoal filtered under it, and she could hear timbers crackling and popping on the other side. I

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