Deceptive Practices
PRAISE FOR SIMON WOOD
“Simon Wood’s The One That Got Away turns the serial-killer convention upside down in a genuinely suspenseful novel.”
—Charlaine Harris, author of The Day Shift
“Wood is a master at ratcheting up the suspense—he starts strong on page 1 and doesn’t let up until the final sentence. Wood is at the top of his game . . .”
—Allison Brennan, New York Times bestselling author of Notorious
“Wrenchingly intense—the talented Simon Wood goes psychologically dark and deeply disturbing. For those who like their thrillers twisty, shocking, and relentless.”
—Hank Phillippi Ryan, Agatha, Anthony, Macavity, and Mary Higgins Clark award–winning author of Truth Be Told
“This author is a master at taking a simple situation and making it suspenseful.”
—Midwest Book Review
“The tension is unbearable, and it gets worse as the pages fly by.”
—I Love a Mystery
OTHER TITLES BY SIMON WOOD
The One That Got Away
Hot Seat
Did Not Finish
No Show
Terminated
Paying the Piper
Accidents Waiting to Happen
We All Fall Down
The Fall Guy
Lowlifes
Asking for Trouble
Working Stiffs
Dragged into Darkness
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2016 by Simon Wood
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Thomas & Mercer, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Thomas & Mercer are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781503940383
ISBN-10: 1503940381
Cover design by Jason Blackburn
For Royston. Miss you every day, buddy.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
CHAPTER ONE
Rain streaked the Audi’s windshield, obscuring Olivia’s view. She didn’t care. It hid the betrayal taking place across the street.
“You bastard, Richard,” she murmured. “How could you?”
On the stoop of a house, her husband was in the arms of a woman she had never met. He held her in a tight embrace and kissed her with a passion Olivia hadn’t seen from him in years.
Olivia didn’t see what was so damn special about this woman. She was no supermodel, just blonde, trim, and willing. It wasn’t like she was even young. Olivia guessed she was maybe five years younger at the most.
I have everything she has. The thought burned her. She knew that wasn’t true. She was carrying a few extra pounds that hadn’t been there when she’d married Richard eight years ago, but that was nothing an extra visit to the gym every week and a touch of dieting couldn’t cure. In a matter of months, she could be sporting the same figure as Richard’s piece of ass.
But looks weren’t the problem. While it was easy to blame everything on them, she knew Richard’s cheating was due to more than her appearance. Even through the tears and rain, Olivia saw one other distinct difference between her and her husband’s mistress. The woman brimmed with excitement and lust. It had been a long time since Olivia had felt that way. Somewhere along the line, their life had become routine. Clocks could be set by it. When they had sex. When they went to eat out. When they saw their friends. The crackle of spontaneity had fizzled out at some point, and Olivia couldn’t put her finger on when. The wipers pulsed, refreshing her view of the treachery.
She closed her eyes and wished for the bliss of ignorance so she could go along believing in her idyllic, suburban existence. She wished she hadn’t seen the cracks in her life appear over the last few months. Richard always seemed to have an excuse not to be around her. He spent most of his time at work or at the athletic club. Yes, their lovemaking had dropped off since the early days of their marriage, but even she’d noticed their recent lack of sex play. Richard was always tired. Now she knew why. God, she’d been so dumb.
Finally, Richard pulled away from his mistress. He gazed lovingly into the woman’s eyes and said something to her, then kissed her quickly on the mouth and trotted through the rain to his Mercedes sedan. He waved to her as he slipped behind the wheel. His mistress didn’t step back inside. She watched him, standing barefoot on the cold concrete path, the rain soaking into her silk robe.
Love, Olivia thought. He loves her. Something sharp embedded itself into Olivia’s heart. She pressed a hand to her chest and massaged the pain, but it wouldn’t go away.
Richard got as far as firing up the engine before his little tramp called out to him. He killed the engine, and she disappeared inside the house. A moment later, she reemerged with his duffel bag.
His damn squash bag. It had been the smoking gun that had led Olivia here, to their love nest. Squash was Richard’s game. He played every Tuesday and Thursday. Olivia was terrible at the game and never joined him. Last Thursday, he’d left his bag behind. She, being the dutiful wife, had run it over to the athletic club. Richard wasn’t there, and no one had seen him in weeks. Although the truth had scratched at the base of her brain, she’d given him a chance to come clean. When he came home, she asked, “How’d the game go?”
“Great. I wiped the floor with Jerry.”
He had kissed her. His hair was wet and slicked back from showering, and he smelled fresh and clean—like he always did after his matches.
“You forgot your bag.”
“Yeah,” he said with the merest of hesitations. “I begged and borrowed everything I needed from the guys.”
The lies came so easily practiced. He hadn’t even grappled for a deception. It was there, close at hand.
She’d caught him in a lie, but what kind of lie? Adultery had crossed her mind, but so had a dozen other possibilities. She saw no point in accusing him. All s
he had were suspicions. Throwing those in his face would drive the truth even further underground. But if she followed him and caught him in the act, then she robbed him of any chance to lie.
It had been stunningly easy to catch Richard. She knew the squash games were his cover. She’d simply waited outside of his office for him to leave. She had expected a long night of following her husband from place to place. Instead, he’d simply driven here to this house. He’d been in there two hours. It wasn’t hard to imagine what he was doing. She could have run up to the door and kicked it in, but she hadn’t had the heart. Discovering the truth had left her in misery.
The mistress scampered along the path with Richard’s duffel in hand. He hopped from the car and met her halfway. He took the bag and cast it to the ground, then gathered her up in his arms, and the kissing started all over again.
Olivia felt sick. They were so blinded by their fun and games that they didn’t even notice her parked across the street. Didn’t they have any shame? Didn’t they consider for one moment they’d be discovered? The answer had to be no. God, she’d love to see their faces if she walked right up to them. Then they’d be sorry. Then they’d show some shame.
A sob leaked out of her and echoed off the confines of the car’s cabin. The sound of it shocked her. It was the sound of her marriage ending.
It was time to bring the curtain down on this charade. Time to make the scene. Time for the ugly accusations and denials. She reached for her keys in the ignition, but instead of pulling them out, she hesitated.
Where was her victory in all this? Sure, she held the moral high ground. She was the jilted wife. But that was a hollow trophy.
She ran her thumb and forefinger over the comforting feel of her car key. An ugly thought developed in her head, one filled with revenge and hate and rage. She could run them down. They wouldn’t know what hit them. They wouldn’t even see it coming. She could do it. No one could stop her.
Her cell burst into song in the cup holder next to her. Clare’s name appeared on the small display. Her sister was the only person who knew she was out here. If Olivia could have turned to anyone else, she would have. Their relationship was one bound by family guilt and obligation, which usually revolved around her bailing out her sister in some form or another. But for all that, Clare still ranked as the closest thing to a friend Olivia had. There was no one else she could turn to for support. When there was no one else, you turned to family, for better or worse.
Despite their tenuous relationship, Clare had stepped up and offered to join her tonight, but Olivia wanted to be alone for this. She couldn’t face anyone witnessing the worst night of her life, even though Clare knew the pain of a broken marriage. At least her husband had the decency to run off. She picked up the phone.
“Is it a squash night?” Sarcasm weighed down Clare’s question.
“He’s cheating.”
“Christ, I should have known, but I didn’t want it to be true. I thought Richard was better than that. Do you know her?”
“No.”
“Where are you?”
“In Walnut Creek. Outside her place. She lives only twenty minutes away. Very convenient.”
“Saves on the gas, I suppose.”
“They’re outside on the street, kissing. They don’t care who sees them.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Run them down.”
“That’s not what I meant, Liv.”
It was what Olivia meant. She didn’t know where the idea had come from, but now that it was there, she’d warmed to it. What was the point of exposing the cheating couple? Who did it benefit? Not her. Her marriage was in tatters, and calling them out didn’t solve anything. Worse still, Richard benefited. He had her to turn to. What did Olivia have? Nothing but a busted marriage and pain to look forward to. They deserved some pain too. If they wanted to be together, so be it, but there was a price to be paid.
She twisted the key in the ignition, and the engine burst to life. The sound failed to alert the lovers, who were too selfish to care about their surroundings. It would be so gratifying to hear their bones break against the car’s unforgiving aluminum body.
“They haven’t spotted me. I’m across the street in my car.” She dragged the gearshift into drive. “I could take my foot off the brake and plow right over them.”
Fear crept into Clare’s voice. “Hey, that’s dangerous talk, Liv.”
“Who cares? They deserve it.”
“You don’t want to do that, Liv. They’re the ones who’ve screwed up. If you hurt them, you’re the one who gets into trouble. Not them.”
Richard tightened his lover’s embrace to the point that he lifted his mistress off the ground.
Clare was making sense, but who cared? Olivia’s life was imploding, and it wasn’t fair. Her foot trembled on the brake pedal, and the car inched forward.
“So they should get away with it?”
“No. I’m not saying that.”
“It doesn’t matter what happens. They get what they want—each other. I still lose. This way, at least there’s some payback.”
“I’m coming out there.”
“No. Don’t.”
“This isn’t you, Liv. Now me on the other hand, we both know I’m the stupid one when it comes to this crap. Not you. You’re the smart one.”
“I don’t want to be smart. I’m sick of doing the right thing.”
“Don’t give them the satisfaction.”
“Who gives a shit?”
“I do.”
Her sister’s concern cut her in two. Olivia needed it, but it hurt so much.
“You want payback?”
“Yes.” The word came out exhausted and defeated.
“Then I can provide it. Forget them for now. Come to my place. You can have your payback. You just have to do it right. I can make it happen.” Clare paused. “Are you listening, Liv?”
Olivia was.
CHAPTER TWO
It didn’t take long to make the short journey from Walnut Creek to Martinez. As Olivia pulled into her sister’s trailer park, another weight dropped onto her shoulders. She never liked coming here. It reminded her of an upbringing she’d left behind. Olivia had worked hard to escape the gravitational pull of trailer parks and crappy apartment complexes that her sister remained mired in. Clare was older than Olivia by three years, but she was reckless. If there was a way of screwing up a good situation, Clare would find it. Her behavior had always forced Olivia to be the responsible one.
Olivia stopped in front of the trailer. Clare had the door to her double-wide open before Olivia reached it. Her sister was small, not much over five feet and slight, which made her look fragile. Despite the small age gap, Clare appeared much older than Olivia. Crow’s-feet and laugh lines had etched her face prematurely, and her bleached hair washed out her fine features.
“Oh, Liv. I’m so sorry,” she said, pulling Olivia into a hug.
“Me too.”
“C’mon, inside.”
Clare sat Olivia down on the sofa in the same spot she’d sat last week when she’d poured out her fears and suspicions about Richard. It should have felt like a problem halved, but it felt more like a problem doubled. Speaking her fears out loud had only intensified the shame and embarrassment.
“I still can’t believe he cheated,” Olivia said.
“I can.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“He’s a guy. It was just a matter of time. They all get bored, and obviously you didn’t do enough to keep his dick from wandering.”
“Thanks for the moral support, Sis.”
“What do you want me to do, hold your hand and tell you it’s all going to be okay?”
“A bit of sisterly love would be nice.”
“Okay, okay, it probably feels like the end of the world right now, but it’s not. You’ll get through this. I did, and you will.”
Clare knew this road well. Her ex-husband had
taken off six years ago, leaving his debts and commitments for her to honor. It was probably why she had such a rosy image of men.
“I suppose that’s the best I’m going to get.”
“Yep.”
Her sister grabbed a bottle of vodka from the refrigerator and two glasses from a kitchen cabinet, then went to pour them each a drink. Olivia put her hand up. Alcohol and self-pity were an ugly combination. Her refusal didn’t stop Clare from pouring herself one.
Clare raised her glass. “Here’s to the single life.”
“Oh God, don’t say that. I can’t stand the thought of another failed marriage.”
Olivia had once joked that Mark had been her starter husband. She’d married him straight out of high school. Playing grown-up had proved too hard for him. Two years into their marriage, he wrapped his Trans Am around a tree. His blood-alcohol level had been through the roof at the time.
“I thought Richard was different.”
“Everyone thinks that. The women of this family really know how to pick their men,” Clare said with a smile. “But we Lyndon girls survive.”
Survival had never sounded so depressing.
“How long do you think it’s been going on?” Clare asked.
“A couple of months? A year? God knows.”
“How do you feel?”
Olivia jumped to her feet and stormed away from her sister. There was no avoiding the question. In the trailer’s limited space, she quickly ran out of real estate. “How do you think? Sad. Betrayed. Angry. Confused.”
Olivia’s words bounced off Clare. She sat, just sipping her vodka. “What do you want?”
“Want? I want tonight never to have happened. I want Richard to have stayed faithful. I want my marriage not to be on the rocks. What do these questions have to do with anything? I thought you said you could help me.”
“I can, but I need you to answer my question first.”
Olivia waved her hands dismissively. She brushed by her sister and grabbed her purse. “Look, I don’t have time for this. I need to get home. I have a marriage to end.”
“That’s fine. Go. But one last question.”
Olivia wasn’t interested and kept heading for the door.
“Would you have really run Richard down?”