I’m sure that the media and the courts aren’t going to look too fondly at me once they secure details of my relationships with both men, but there’s nothing I can do about that now. I’m not going to try to hide it.
I’m just going to enjoy the peace of this village while I have it, knowing that Jace is going to be punished for his crimes.
I round the corner to find the VU employee huts where we’ll all be staying for the next two months while we get the solar panel power system up and running. And I smile. It’s good to be back, even if my time away marked a very sad period in my life.
Rosa’s passing.
She finally succumbed to her cancer in early June, and I think she was ready to go by the end of it. She tried to chase me off several times, but I refused, holding her hand as she slipped into unconsciousness that she never awoke from.
Kind of like her daughter.
Given the ongoing investigation, there was no way to keep Rosa from discovering the truth about Celine’s demise, and her past, though I made it seem like she was mostly a paid companion. She handled it quite well, and in the end, she was just happy that Celine didn’t make the choice to kill herself. If she didn’t take her own life, that meant Rosa would be with her daughter in the afterlife.
Rosa’s last dying wish was that I use my money and my connections to stop other young women from falling into the same trap that Celine did. I had planned on it anyway, but to have Rosa ask me to do that—when she had asked for so little—only made it that much more important. I have every intention of making sure that vase is returned to Celine’s estate after the trial against Jace is over, and the sale of it—through Hollingsworth rather than some back-alley Chinatown dealer—will get as many young women out of prostitution as possible.
I push the bittersweet thoughts aside as I wave at Graham from across the way. He’s my right-hand man and the guy I’ve relied on for the past nine months to keep VU’s mission going. He said he hired three new people for this project. I don’t know much about them, but I trust his judgment.
Still, when I see the male figure lounging in the hammock, in the shade of one of a few trees, avoiding the midday heat, my stomach lurches. Not until I’m five feet away does he roll his head lazily toward me, opening one eye to size me up.
“Hey. You must be Maggie. They said you’d be getting in today.” He reaches out to offer a hand. “I’m Sam.”
I take it, hyper-aware of the way my name sounds in his Australian accent, and of his thick, wavy brown hair, damp and curling at the nape of his neck, and his lean but muscular body, on display without a T-shirt.
“Hi, Sam. You are here to . . .”
He grins. “I’m your electrician. I run a small solar panel installation business back home, outside Perth.”
I fold my arms over my chest, drawing his golden eyes to my breasts for a second before they snap back to my face. “What made you leave your business and come out here, then?”
He shrugs. “Thought it’d be something different.”
“Right. I’m sure it will be. Well, it was good to meet you, Sam . . .”
“Jacobs. Sam Jacobs. A lot of people just call me Jacobs.”
“Of course they do,” I mumble, giving him a half wave as I continue on to where I’ll be staying. Feeling his eyes on me the entire way.
I slip my cell phone out of my pocket and dial.
A groggy Doug answers.
“Are you actually sleeping?”
“God forbid,” he mutters. “What’s up?”
I glance over my shoulder to watch the Australian electrician rest in his hammock. “I need a full background check done on someone.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I have many people to thank for helping me get this book into readers’ hands. Thank you to my amazing team at Atria Books. I say time and time again that the stars aligned when Sarah Cantin came into my (writing) life. Sarah, I sense your blood and sweat (and probably tears) within these pages, almost as much as my own. I guess multiple drafts along with working on two other books with me at the same time will do that. Let’s not do that again, maybe? Judith Curr, for continuing to believe in me and for suggesting such a unique and perfect title. Suzanne Donahue, Ariele Fredman, Tory Lowy, Kimberly Goldstein, Jin Yu, Albert Tang, and Alysha Bullock (the brains and muscle behind the curtain)—thank you for being a part of the publishing house that I have come to know and love.
Stacey Donaghy, my super Type A agent who meshes so well with my own Type A tendencies. You work hard for me, you make me laugh, and I truly appreciate both those things.
Kelly Simmon of Inkslinger PR, who is always available to me, even with this pesky new time zone difference.
My two best cop friends (who shall remain nameless in print) for tolerating my random and likely inappropriate law enforcement–related texts at all hours of the day and night.
My readers—without you, I would not be sitting here, writing these acknowledgments right now. I know this is a slight departure from what I have given you in the past. I hope you loved reading it as much as I loved writing it.
My family—for always being in my corner through the lengthy, exhilarating, emotional, and sometimes painful process of writing novels.
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K.A. TUCKER is the bestselling author of the Ten Tiny Breaths and Burying Water series. She currently resides outside of Toronto with her husband, two beautiful girls, and an exhausting brood of four-legged creatures.
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Ten Tiny Breaths
One Tiny Lie
Four Seconds to Lose
Five Ways to Fall
In Her Wake
Burying Water
Becoming Rain
Chasing River
Surviving Ice
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 by Kathleen Tucker
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Author Photograph by Laura Tucker Photography
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Interior design by Paul Dippolito
Library of Congress Control Number: 2015033539
ISBN 978-1-5011-1207-2
ISBN 978-1-5011-1209-6 (ebook)
CONTENTS
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
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About K.A. Tucker
K. A. Tucker, He Will Be My Ruin
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