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49. PURRFECT BABY

Chapter 1

Dotty Berg relaxed in front of the vanity mirror and started removing her makeup. She wasn’t usually the kind of girl who liked to use excessive makeup but in her line of work it was unfortunately a given that she should. In spite of the fact that tonight had been a success she felt bone-tired. Calista would be pleased—the client perhaps less so, even though she’d gotten them the results they paid for. But that wasn’t her fault now was it?

She mechanically removed the last remnants of eyeliner from her eyes and for a moment gazed at her reflection in the mirror. A remarkably fresh-faced young woman stared back at her. Remarkable because she’d done this job for so long now she had become a little world-weary. But fortunately that hadn’t yet had an effect on her good looks. And nor it should. The moment she started being affected by the turmoil that her chosen profession inevitably brought with it, she’d quit. That’s what she had always told Calista and that’s how it would be. Then again—the work did pay shockingly well.

She checked her phone for messages and repaired to the bed, prepared to get ready for the night. It had gotten later than she thought, the client requiring a lot of patient hand-holding and encouragement but finally she’d gotten him exactly where she wanted him. It was a skill set not easily acquired but one she was nevertheless proud of.

And as she stretched out languorously on top of the duvet, she thought she heard a sound from the modest little hallway. Had she forgotten to close the door? It was entirely possible. These last couple of days had been challenging, and sometimes she didn’t know where her head was at.

With a tired groan, she sat up and swung her feet from the bed. Hugging her pink satin dressing gown around herself, she shuffled over to have a look. Moments later, she was staggering back into her bedroom, grabbing for her phone. And she’d just started typing a message of distress to Calista when the phone was unceremoniously snatched from her trembling fingers and she was pushed back on the bed. And as he straddled her, she knew that this time she’d gone too far.

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Calista Dunne had drifted off to sleep on the couch, a glass of Pinot Noir still in her hand, the TV blaring away and providing the background sound to a pretty sweet dream. In her dream she was relaxing poolside in Mallorca. The sun was warm on her skin, the clear blue water from the pool lapping pleasantly at her feet, the cares of the world a million miles away.

She woke up and automatically grabbed for her phone to see if her husband had left her any messages. He was away on business so she had the house to herself. She yawned until she caught the odd message Dotty had sent.‘He’s come back—you’ve got to—’

“Got to what?” she murmured as she blinked, bleary-eyed, at the message.

She immediately placed the phone to her ear and waited for Dotty to pick up. But Dotty didn’t pick up. The special app they used to keep in touch just kept on ringing and ringing to no avail.

She pursed her lips and chewed the inside of her bottom lip, a habit she was trying to break since it could only lead to premature wrinklage.

He’s come back. That could mean two things, and in both cases it was probably bad news. Or why else would Dotty feel the need to send her a message at this late hour?

For a few moments she felt irresolute, and she’d already decided to head over there to stave off disaster, when her phone buzzed. It was Dotty again: ‘It’s fine. He forgot his wallet. Hope I didn’t wake you.’ Smiley face, smiley face, smiley face, heart emoji.

She smiled and relaxed. False alarm. Still. That self-defense training she’d signed her girls up for was starting to feel like a better idea every day. Maybe even shooting lessons.

She splashed some more of the Pinot into her glass—keep that nice buzz going—and sank back down on the couch.

Moments later, she was fast asleep, and only woke up when he was already straddling her, tying a nylon stocking around her neck and pulling—hard.

Chapter 2

Vesta Muffin didn’t often visit the shelter that carried her name, even though she knew she probably should. When her son had opened it along with his girlfriend Charlene Butterwick, the town’s mayor, she’d even promised to volunteer there, but that had never materialized of course. In her defense, she was a busy woman, and her time was probably better spent elsewhere. And besides, the Vesta Muffin Animal Shelter had a perfectly capable manager now taking care of things. Marsella Horowicz had been handpicked by Charlene to run the shelter and by all accounts she was doing a great job of it.