The Ex Who Wouldn't Die (Charley's Ghost Book 1) by Sally Berneathy

Author:Sally Berneathy [Berneathy, Sally]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2012-04-16T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Amanda did not feel safe until she was back at the house with the door closed and locked behind her. Even then she kept looking out the window of Charley’s old bedroom, half expecting to see Kimball standing among the trees, looking up at her, that self-satisfied smirk on his face, murder in his eyes.

“You’re safe here,” Charley reassured her. “Dad’s a hunter, and he’s got this old shotgun—”

Amanda whirled from the window to face him. “Shut up! I don’t want to hear about any more freaking guns. That’s what started this whole thing in the first place, Kimball’s gun in the trash. I wish you’d never seen it, and you wouldn’t have if you hadn’t been hanging out with another man’s wife.” She plopped down on the edge of Charley’s old desk chair. “After tonight, I believe he killed Dianne, but why? The man has everything. Why murder someone like Dianne, his former girlfriend, the town saint? They hadn’t had any contact since college.”

Charley shrugged. “Maybe they still had something going. Maybe she threatened to tell his wife.”

Amanda shook her head in disgust. “Of course you’d come up with something sordid and stereotypical, something you could relate to.”

“Hey! That kind of thing happens all the time. That’s what makes it a stereotype.”

“Fine. Whatever.” Amanda stood. “I’m going to bed. You need to leave.”

“What if I don’t leave?”

“Then I sleep in my clothes.”

“I’ve seen you without your clothes.” Charley smiled smugly.

“Seen being the operative word. Past tense. Not present, not future.”

“You gotta admit, we made a good team tonight. We’ve got Kimball on the run.” He looked pleased with himself.

“Excuse me?” She threw her arms into the air, hands outspread. “On the run? We stirred up a hornet’s nest! Yeah, we’re a great team. Between the two of us, we’re going to get me killed!”

“Relax, Amanda. I know how to read people. You’ve got him on the defensive. He’ll mess up, and we’ll catch him.”

“Stuff it, Charley! This is all totally, completely, one hundred percent your fault! Even dead, you continue to cause problems!”

“Amanda, you’re letting yourself get all worked up. That’s not good for you.”

She flopped across the bed and pulled a pillow over her head.

Charley gave a deep sigh. “Fine. I’m leaving. I’ll go outside and stand guard for you. Let you know if I see anything threatening. I’ll take care of you, Amanda.”

She rolled over, tossing aside the pillow so she could glare at him. “Great. At the rate you’re taking care of me, I’ll be joining you soon.”

*~*~*

The next morning, after a night of tossing and turning, dreaming of Kimball shooting her, choking her, dismembering her and in other ways disposing of her, Amanda dreaded the thought of breakfast, of being polite and shoving food into her knotted stomach.

But then she came downstairs to the smells and the people.

Breakfast in the Randolph home was a rushed, frantic, completely wonderful affair. That morning Irene made biscuits, sausage, fried eggs and hash browns. Yesterday they’d had scrambled eggs and bacon.

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