Summary...
Gwen Landon—poster
woman for perfect wife, mother, and suburban bliss—is found brutally bludgeoned
to death behind her Floridian McMansion. Beautiful and beloved by her
community, Gwen makes an unlikely victim. But just a scratch below the surface
of her perfectly curated world reveals one far more sinister. When looking back
over the six months leading up to her death, the question of, “who would do
this?” quickly shifts to, “who wouldn’t?”
Commercially successful
food blogger and mother of three, Nora Holliday never imagined she would have
the nerve, let alone time, to get involved an affair. Trapped in an unhappy
marriage, she does whatever it takes to keep it all together. But when Nora
runs into Gwen Landon's husband at a hotel in Orlando, his easy kindness and
warmth proves too tempting to resist. As their affair spirals dangerously out of
control, it seems things can’t get more complicated—until Gwen turns up dead.
Excerpt...
Prologue
Other than the woman’s
blood-covered body splayed facedown in the grass, it could have been any
typical upscale Floridian backyard.
There was the ubiquitous
pool with a water fountain feature, a patio furnished with both a dining set
and outdoor sectional couch, and an enormous gas grill capable of cooking
hamburgers by the dozen. A large pergola with a tropical vine trained over it
covered part of the patio. The dining area was shaded by a black-and-white-striped
awning. It was the very picture of suburban domestic bliss. It could have been
the set for a commercial advertising anything from laundry detergent to allergy
medicine.
Again, except for the
dead body.
The area had already
been taped off. The first officers on the scene appeared with an ambulance in
response to a frantic 911 call placed by the woman’s daughter. The paramedics
had assessed the situation, and quickly determined that the woman was dead. The
fact that the back of her head had been bashed in with what looked like a
paving stone, conveniently dropped next to her prone body, made it immediately
clear that it had not been a natural death. The responding officers called the
sheriff, who responded by sending in a full investigative team. The medical
examiner was now doing a preliminary examination of the body, while police
officers combed the area for additional evidence. Two detectives, Mike Monroe
and Gavin Reddick—separated by twenty years and sixty pounds—were overseeing
the operation, standing at the edge of the patio under the shade of the
pergola. It was the third week in April, but this was South Florida and the
temperature had already climbed into the low nineties.
“The paving stone came
from the stack out in the front yard. They were delivered last week by the
company who’s installing the driveway,” Detective Reddick said. He was the
younger of the two men and had a wiry frame and angular face.
“Weapon of convenience.
Suggests it wasn’t premeditated,” Detective Monroe said. He had a ruddy
complexion and a full head of thick dark hair, swept back off his face. A
strand never moved out of place, even in a strong wind.
“Plus he dropped the
weapon, rather than taking it with him. Probably panicked.”
“Could be a she,” Monroe
said mildly.
Reddick shrugged. “Blunt
force trauma to the back of the head? You know the stats. Overwhelming
likelihood that it’s a man, and probably someone the victim was intimately
involved with. Husband, maybe a boyfriend.”
“The husband was with
the daughter when she called it in.”
“Doesn’t mean he didn’t
do it, and then had her place the call.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
The family had been
sequestered indoors, both to keep them out of the way, and so that the officers
waiting in the house with them could observe anything they did or said. Other
than the husband, there was a daughter in her early twenties and a teenage son.
The daughter was reportedly distraught, while the husband and son had both been
eerily quiet. It was possible they were in shock.
“Do we have an ID on the
victim?” Reddick asked.
“It’s her house,” Monroe
grunted.
“Yeah, but I like doing
things the official way, you know? I’s dotted, t’s crossed, all of that.
Building a case, basic detective work.”
Despite the chilling
scene in front of them—the woman’s body still sprawled on the grass, the back
of her head a pulpy, bloody mess—the corner of Monroe’s mouth quirked up in a
half smile. “Sure, kid, tell me all about basic detective work. I’ve only been
doing this for, what…thirty-two years now? The husband ID’d her. Victim is Gwen
Landon, age forty-nine. Married, mother of two. Husband said she hasn’t had any
recent conflict with anyone.”
“Other than the person
who caved in the back of her head with a paving stone,” Reddick pointed out.
“Wouldn’t be the first
time a husband didn’t know his wife as well as he thought he did.”
“Possible. But there’s
another possibility, too.”
“What’s that?”
Reddick turned to look
at his partner. His eyes were small and dark, and he had a habit of squinting
when he concentrated intently on something.
“The husband is a liar,”
Reddick said.
My review...
This psychological thriller is told in multiple POV’s, which
I enjoyed, as it gave me a well-rounded picture of what was going on.
I read a lot of books in this genre, including one other
book by Hunt. It grabbed my attention on the first page, and it took me on a
bit of a roller coaster ride with a few twists along the way. I enjoyed this
story, but it was a bit average, compared to others I’ve read (including the
author’s prior book, For Better and Worse). At times, some of the characters’
actions seemed a bit over the top and without a lot of reason for it. Some plot
points weren’t particularly original, but this was still an enjoyable book, and
I look forward to reading more from Hunt in the future.
Disclaimer: I received a complimentary copy from the
publisher, but I wasn’t required to leave a positive review.
Purchase links...
About Margot...
Margot Hunt is a
critically acclaimed author of psychological suspense. Her work has been
praised by Publisher's Weekly, Booklist and Kirkus Reviews.
Where you can find her online...
TWITTER: @HuntAuthor
Insta:@margot_hunt
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