Jealousy JunctionA Liars Island Suspense
Cathryn Grant
Copyright © 2021 by Cathryn Grant
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information, contact [email protected]
ISBN: 978-1-943142-65-1 (ebook)
This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity and are used fictitiously. All other characters, and incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.
Visit Cathryn online at CathrynGrant.com
Cover design by Cormar Covers Copyright © 2021
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Contents
Jealousy Junction
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
MORE FROM LIARS ISLAND….
Also by Cathryn Grant
A note from the author …
Jealousy Junction
A Liars Island Suspense
Who is the liar here?
Everything in my life was looking up. My organic grocery store was thriving; I had a charming and tender new guy in my life who was looking like he might be the real deal. And then my estranged sister reappeared in my life. I couldn’t have been happier.
Until I wasn’t. Someone was stalking me. My sister was flirting with my boyfriend, and I was pretty sure he was flirting back.
Someone was dead, and everyone might be lying.
Welcome to Liar's Island... a stand-alone series of interconnected, novella length, domestic thrillers set in the picture-perfect community of Liars Island. Here, nothing is quite as it seems.
On this island, families and friendships are more than meets the eye ... secrets, deceptions, and jealousies threaten to ruin everything these influential people have built. But it isn't only the rich that live here ... and power comes in all shapes and sizes.
Everyone here is a liar ... just how far would you go to get what you want?
Prologue
The room was dark except for the faint glow of the nightlight.
She hated that nightlight. All her life, she’d slept in total darkness, relishing the utter escape from reality. She slept with the window cracked open for soothing, healing, cool night air. The night air kept her breathing clear, allowing her consciousness to rest easily.
She’d succumbed to the nightlight because her caregiver insisted upon it. How was the caregiver to enter the room at night to check on her if there was no light? How was the caregiver to correctly identify the medications before waking her to swallow a pill or three or five—whatever it was, she could never keep track? She hated that too, the dreamy half-sleep that made her uncertain whether or not she was truly sleeping.
She lay in bed listening to the comforting sounds of the house settling into sleep, the soft creaks, the sighs, the occasional brush of a low-hanging pine branch against the eaves outside her window. She wished she could do the same.
Usually, she loved the quiet of nighttime, but tonight, it was too quiet. She couldn’t put her finger on why she felt that way. She couldn’t say what sound was missing. The fact that her heart seemed to be thudding more loudly than normal told her that some ambient noise had been silenced.
The house creaked and then was quiet again. This time, it was a creak that seemed louder or different somehow, less of a settling and more of a waking up.
She felt her body tense. It was silly to think someone was in the house that wanted to hurt her. Of course someone was in the house—the caregiver. And the caregiver was there all the time to improve her quality of life and allow her to continue living independently. At least that’s what Rick and Cherry had told her, with Cherry’s husband nodding agreeably, standing a few steps to the side of the others.
She truly appreciated their effort to make sure she could stay in her home. She wanted to die here, and they had vowed they would do their best to make sure that happened.
But she wasn’t ready to die yet.
No, there was some life-force that kept you going, that made you want to read books, watch the news, crochet, and most of all, talk to lifelong friends who lived next door.
Yet, right now, with this strange absence of sound, except for the creaks that were ominous rather than comforting, she feared she was going to die. Was it a premonition? Did the body have senses that science hadn’t yet identified, some outer force that told it when harm was coming? Wasn’t that why you looked over your shoulder or why, when she’d still been driving, she always knew when a car was going to cut her off?
Her eyes were wide open, staring into the darkness, stinging at the edges from that damn night light. Then, a moment later, the night light went out. The house became even quieter; the hum of electronics, even when they were turned off, was gone. Someone had cut the power.
She struggled to raise herself to her elbows. Before she could, she heard the breath of another in the room. “Hello?” Her voice sounded weak, terrified. The sound of it, echoing what was inside, made her feel like crying. Or maybe she hadn’t spoken out loud. She couldn’t be sure.
“Are you...” She kept her voice low, feeling foolish in the midst of her terror for talking to herself in the darkness. She strained again to raise herself to her elbows, turning in an attempt to reach the little bell that she tinkled to call the caregiver.
Then, it all happened in the space of a single inhale and exhale. A rush of someone crossing the room, the extra pillow yanked from behind her head and placed over her face. The pillow was pressing down, tighter, harder. She tried to gasp and couldn’t.
And then she was floating,
