Honeymoon

Chapter 114

NORA DROVE the red Benz around lower Manhattan—fast—until she was sure no one was following her. Not the press, not the police. Nobody. Then she gunned the Benz up onto the decrepit roller coaster known as the West Side Highway and headed north to Westchester. She needed some time by herself.

Soon she was breezing along in the convertible at close to ninety. God, she was free—and it felt good. This was the best thing that had happened to her. She’d hang out at Connor’s house for a few days, finally sell off all the furniture there, then plan her next move.

Funny, she was thinking, maybe it’s even time for me to settle down. Marry somebody for real, have a kid or two. The idea made her laugh, but she didn’t dismiss it. Stranger things happened—like her getting out of jail.

Before she knew it, the Benz was pulling up in front of Connor’s—the scene of the crime, as it were. How strange, and delicious, this was. She was totally free; she’d gotten away with murder. And her few days in jail, at the famous Riker’s Island near La Guardia Airport, actually made this all the more special. Extraordinary, really.

Nora got out of the car, thought she heard a sound—and it reminded her of Craig, of O’Hara. What had all that been about? She still didn’t know, except that the attraction had been huge and real and very emotional for her.

But she was over Craig now, right?

You’re over him.

Nora let herself inside, and the house was a little musty, and definitely dusty, but not too bad. She’d be there for only a short while anyway. She could deal with a little hardship, right?

She went into the kitchen and swung open the door to the fridge, the Traulsen. Oh God, what a disaster! Rotting vegetables—and cheeses!

She grabbed a bottle of Evian that was sitting in front, then quickly shut the refrigerator door before she gagged.

“Gross me out, would you, please.”

She wiped off the bottle with a clean towel, twisted it open, and drank nearly half.

Now what? Maybe a hot bath? A swim in the pool? A sauna?

Her mouth remained open, but there were no more words.

Just a moan.

Then a scream.

And incredible pain!

Suddenly Nora was holding her stomach. She could barely stand.

My stomach is burning up, she thought as she looked around the kitchen—but no one else was there.

The pain exploded into her throat, and Nora felt as if she couldn’t breathe. She wanted to throw up, but she couldn’t do that, either. Everything was spinning until down she went, helpless to break her own fall.

She might have hit the tile floor face-first, but she didn’t even care. Nothing mattered except this incredible fire eating her from the inside out. Her vision was fuzzy. The worst pain in her entire life was taking over her body, inhabiting her.

Then Nora heard something—footsteps approaching the kitchen.

Someone else was in the house.