above her mothers lips. It had been sitting on the table the whole time while Mick had been there, and he hadnt noticed.
Shed planned to tell him that she was more than just an author interested in writing a book. That his mother had left her an orphan too. Now he wanted nothing to do with her, and who she really was just didnt seem to matter anymore.
M ick pulled his truck to a stop in front of the Shore View Diner where Meg worked five days a week waiting tables and pulling in tips. He was still so angry he felt like hitting something or someone. Like picking Maddie Dupree up by her shoulders and shaking her until she agreed to pack up and go away. Like forgetting shed ever heard of the Hennessys and their messed-up lives. But shed made it really clear she wasnt going anywhere, and now he had to tell Meg before she heard it from someone else.
He turned off the truck and leaned his head back. His mother had watched his father die? He hadnt known that. Wished he didnt know it now. How could he possibly reconcile the woman whod killed two people with the mother whod made him peanut butter and strawberry jelly sandwiches, cut the crusts off, and sliced the bread at an angle just as hed liked it? The loving mother who bathed him and washed his hair and tucked him in at night, with the woman whod left footprints in her husbands blood all over his bar? How could that even be the same woman?
He rubbed his face with his hands and slid his fingers beneath his sunglasses to rub his eyes. He was so damn tired. After Jewel had given him Maddies business card, hed gone to his office in Hennessys and locked himself in. Hed searched the Internet for information about Maddie, and thered been a lot. Shed published five books, and hed discovered head shots of her and photos of her at book signings. There was no mistaking that the Maddie Dupree whom hed been planning to get to know better was the woman who wrote about psychotic killers. The Madeline Dupree who was in town to write about the night his mother had killed his father. He opened the door to his truck and stepped outside. And there wasnt a damn thing he could do to stop her.
From as far back as he could remember, the Shore View Diner had smelled the same. Like grease and eggs and tobacco. The diner was one of the last places in America where a person could have a cup of coffee and a Camel or Lucky Strike, depending on his or her poison. As a result, it was always filled with smokers. Mick had tried to talk Meg into working someplace where she wasnt likely to get lung cancer from secondhand smoke, but she insisted that the tips were too good to work anyplace else.
It was around two in the afternoon and the diner was half empty when Mick entered. Meg stood behind the front counter, filling Lloyd Brunners cup of coffee and laughing at something hed said. Her black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she wore a bright pink blouse beneath a white apron. She looked up and waved at him.
Hey, there. Are you hungry? she asked.
No. He took a seat at the counter and pushed his Revos to the top of his head. I was hoping you could get off early.
Why? Her smile fell and she set the coffee carafe on the counter. Has something happened? Is it Travis?
Travis is fine. I just wanted to talk to you about something.
She looked into his eyes as if she could read his mind. Ill be right back, she said and walked into the kitchen. When she returned, she had her purse.
Mick rose and followed her outside. As soon as the door to the diner swung shut behind them, she asked, What is it?
Theres a woman in town. Shes a true crime writer.
Meg squinted against the bright sun as they walked across the gravel lot to his truck. Whats her name?
Madeline Dupree.
Her jaw dropped. Madeline Dupree? She wrote In Her Place , the story of Patrick Wayne Dobbs. The serial killer who killed women and then wore their clothes under his business suit. That book scared me so much I couldnt sleep for a week. Meg
Shed planned to tell him that she was more than just an author interested in writing a book. That his mother had left her an orphan too. Now he wanted nothing to do with her, and who she really was just didnt seem to matter anymore.
M ick pulled his truck to a stop in front of the Shore View Diner where Meg worked five days a week waiting tables and pulling in tips. He was still so angry he felt like hitting something or someone. Like picking Maddie Dupree up by her shoulders and shaking her until she agreed to pack up and go away. Like forgetting shed ever heard of the Hennessys and their messed-up lives. But shed made it really clear she wasnt going anywhere, and now he had to tell Meg before she heard it from someone else.
He turned off the truck and leaned his head back. His mother had watched his father die? He hadnt known that. Wished he didnt know it now. How could he possibly reconcile the woman whod killed two people with the mother whod made him peanut butter and strawberry jelly sandwiches, cut the crusts off, and sliced the bread at an angle just as hed liked it? The loving mother who bathed him and washed his hair and tucked him in at night, with the woman whod left footprints in her husbands blood all over his bar? How could that even be the same woman?
He rubbed his face with his hands and slid his fingers beneath his sunglasses to rub his eyes. He was so damn tired. After Jewel had given him Maddies business card, hed gone to his office in Hennessys and locked himself in. Hed searched the Internet for information about Maddie, and thered been a lot. Shed published five books, and hed discovered head shots of her and photos of her at book signings. There was no mistaking that the Maddie Dupree whom hed been planning to get to know better was the woman who wrote about psychotic killers. The Madeline Dupree who was in town to write about the night his mother had killed his father. He opened the door to his truck and stepped outside. And there wasnt a damn thing he could do to stop her.
From as far back as he could remember, the Shore View Diner had smelled the same. Like grease and eggs and tobacco. The diner was one of the last places in America where a person could have a cup of coffee and a Camel or Lucky Strike, depending on his or her poison. As a result, it was always filled with smokers. Mick had tried to talk Meg into working someplace where she wasnt likely to get lung cancer from secondhand smoke, but she insisted that the tips were too good to work anyplace else.
It was around two in the afternoon and the diner was half empty when Mick entered. Meg stood behind the front counter, filling Lloyd Brunners cup of coffee and laughing at something hed said. Her black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she wore a bright pink blouse beneath a white apron. She looked up and waved at him.
Hey, there. Are you hungry? she asked.
No. He took a seat at the counter and pushed his Revos to the top of his head. I was hoping you could get off early.
Why? Her smile fell and she set the coffee carafe on the counter. Has something happened? Is it Travis?
Travis is fine. I just wanted to talk to you about something.
She looked into his eyes as if she could read his mind. Ill be right back, she said and walked into the kitchen. When she returned, she had her purse.
Mick rose and followed her outside. As soon as the door to the diner swung shut behind them, she asked, What is it?
Theres a woman in town. Shes a true crime writer.
Meg squinted against the bright sun as they walked across the gravel lot to his truck. Whats her name?
Madeline Dupree.
Her jaw dropped. Madeline Dupree? She wrote In Her Place , the story of Patrick Wayne Dobbs. The serial killer who killed women and then wore their clothes under his business suit. That book scared me so much I couldnt sleep for a week. Meg
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