Sterling Perry has to be feeling pretty smug now that he has been released from jail on fraud charges. Damn. The evidence should have been enough to keep him in jail. Nothing is going as planned. Ever since Vincent—Well, that doesn’t matter. No one has any idea who killed the man. I guess I’ll just have to direct them toward a suspect.
Perry is the most logical choice. The hatred the thought of him stirs inside me makes me want to punch someone. But instead I just take a deep breath and fight to find the calm part of myself. The part that makes it easier for me to plot the demise of the men who have stolen everything from me.
It’s not as if they are good men. They both have flaws, too many to name, and they’ve hurt many people along the way. Collateral damage like me. But not anymore.
Ryder Currin and Sterling Perry are doing a good job of torturing each other, which doesn’t hurt the plans that have been put in motion. But it wouldn’t hurt to get Sheriff Battle on the case. He’s a bulldog and would help to add fire to the charges simmering around Sterling Perry.
That text was sent from Vincent on a Perry Holdings phone. Everyone knows that no one does anything at Perry Holdings without Sterling’s ap proval. That should be enough to get the case fo cused back on Sterling.
Glancing down at the email that has just arrived, a feeling of self-satisfaction spreads throughout me. Ryder Currin has some employment issues. Inter esting. It shouldn’t be that hard to get the information into Sterling Perry’s hands and then let him use his information to ruin Currin.
It’s hard not to feel self-satisfied. So embezzling didn’t work out. There are still a couple of irons in this fire. Both of them are going to pay for what they’ve done. No matter how long it takes.
Melinda Perry glanced at her phone as she put the last hot roller in her hair. She was trying to ween herself off her social media addiction. While she loved knowing exactly what her faves were doing, she had learned she functioned better with far less FOMO if she started her day with a mug of... She wanted to say hot lemon water, but she’d never been able to make herself acquire a taste for it. No matter how unhealthy it was, she always started her day with coffee, a teaspoon of hot cocoa mix and nonfat half-and-half.
She glanced at the clock on her vanity mirror; she was running ahead of schedule. “Okay, Jeeves, give me the latest society news from the Houston Chronicle,” she said. She’d programmed her electronic assistant to answer to Jeeves because she thought it was funny to pretend she had a proper British butler and because it had been going off whenever the commercial for it had come on prior to that.
“Good morning, Mels. Here’s today’s headline—‘Heiress and philanthropist Melinda Perry is going hot and heavy with notorious playboy Slade Bartelli. Photos available on Houston Chronicle dot com.’”
“Okay, Jeeves, stop,” she said, fumbling for her phone and opening the Houston Chronicle app. Oh, no. She didn’t want to be on the society pages. She didn’t want the world to know about her love affair with Slade.
Her family had been a hot mess for the last year and she had struggled to remain above it. Going about her business and acting as if everything were okay. Her father had been accused of running a Ponzi scheme, arrested and released from jail. Her sister was having a scandalous relationship with one of her father’s most hated business rivals. And of course, she had started a romance with the son of notorious mobster Carlo Bartelli.
To be fair, Slade wasn’t part of his father’s crime syndicate and she had met him at a charitable committee meeting. He was an upstanding citizen but the media never seemed to care about that.
As soon as she opened the app, she saw a photo of herself and Slade embracing...okay, kissing. Hot and heavy kissing in one of the alcoves of the Houston Symphony at Jones Hall.
She felt panic rise inside of her and her pulse raced. She was hot and bothered not only from being exposed but from remembering that kiss. She had to end this. It was getting out of control. She was behaving in a way that didn’t suit her at all. Sure, she was thirty-nine and, as her twin had pointed out, not getting any younger.
If not now, then when? That’s what Angela had said when Melinda had shyly mentioned she was seeing someone different from her usual type of guy.
But this wasn’t what Melinda had had in mind. She liked her charity work, her quiet life. Also, Angela had been very plain in her disapproval of Slade as a lover for Melinda. Not that she needed her twin’s approval of the man
