YOU CAN’T MAKE THIS UP
Kathleen’s hand throbbed and her knuckles stung, but it was worth it. She’d punched the devil and was still alive. That much she was grateful for.
Tonya was ruthless, unscrupulous, and downright vicious. Kathleen had forgotten that, and in turn, paid a terrible price. She had no idea that when she left to visit her ailing grandmother that she would come home to find her boyfriend with someone else. It didn’t make sense on any level, but she was helpless against Tonya.
“It was so simple actually,” Tonya touched her mouth with the back of her hand. “You really shouldn’t make your computer passwords so easy. And for heaven’s sake, if you ever get another boyfriend, don’t leave those awful, sappy messages on his phones. Guys really don’t like it.”
Tonya walked over to the mirror to assess the damage. “Another thing that stuck in his craw was to think you were hooking back up with Henry. That didn’t go over too well. Lucky for me, I was there to comfort him."
Danica gently placed her pen on the closed folder. She leaned forward and sympathized with Kathleen’s misfortune. “My goodness, that’s terrible. What did you do?”
“I told her I was going to tell Winston what she’d done; that she wouldn’t get away with it.”
“Bet that went over well.”
Kathleen chuckled. “She was so cliché. ‘You’ll tell him over my dead body.’”
Danica held her gaze. “Miss Phillips, where were you after the gala?”
“I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a run to clear my head.”
“Did anyone see you?”
“When I got home, Winston was about to leave.”
“Winston Carlyle? As in your ex-boyfriend, fiancé to the deceased, and your escort today?”
“Where are your diamond earrings today?”
“I…” she touched her earlobe. “I decided not to wear them.”