Lie to Her (Bree Taggert)

ALSO BY MELINDA LEIGH BREE TAGGERT NOVELS Cross Her Heart See Her Die Drown Her Sorrows Right Behind Her “Her Second Death” (A Prequel Short Story) Dead Against Her MORGAN DANE NOVELS Say You’re Sorry Her Last Goodbye Bones Don’t Lie What I’ve Done Secrets Never Die Save Your Breath SCARLET FALLS NOVELS Hour of Need Minutes to Kill Seconds to Live SHE CAN SERIES She Can Run She Can Tell She Can Scream She Can Hide “He Can Fall” (A Short Story) She Can Kill MIDNIGHT NOVELS Midnight Exposure Midnight Sacrifice Midnight Betrayal Midnight Obsession THE ROGUE SERIES NOVELLAS Gone to Her Grave (Rogue River) Walking on Her Grave (Rogue River) Tracks of Her Tears (Rogue Winter) Burned by Her Devotion (Rogue Vows) Twisted Truth (Rogue Justice) THE WIDOW’S ISLAND NOVELLA SERIES A Bone to Pick Whisper of Bones A Broken Bone Buried Bones The Wrong Bones This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Otherwise, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Text copyright © 2023 by Melinda Leigh All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher. Published by Montlake, Seattle www.apub.com Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Montlake are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates. ISBN-13: 9781542030663 (hardcover) ISBN-13: 9781542030649 (paperback) ISBN-13: 9781542030656 (digital) Cover design by Shasti O’Leary Soudant Cover images: © Stephen Mulcahey, © Olesia Saienko / Arcangel First edition For Charlie, Annie, and Tom CONTENTS CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER TWELVE CHAPTER THIRTEEN CHAPTER FOURTEEN CHAPTER FIFTEEN CHAPTER SIXTEEN CHAPTER SEVENTEEN CHAPTER EIGHTEEN CHAPTER NINETEEN CHAPTER TWENTY CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE CHAPTER THIRTY CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE CHAPTER FORTY CHAPTER FORTY-ONE CHAPTER FORTY-TWO CHAPTER FORTY-THREE CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE ACKNOWLEDGMENTS ABOUT THE AUTHOR CHAPTER ONE There’s no line between love and hate, not even a fine one. It’s a mud puddle. Quicksand. And you can be simultaneously mired in both. Let me explain. You love someone. They reject you. Now you hate them. But you still can’t stop loving them, even if you hate yourself for it. A hot fucking mess, right? I halt on the shoulder of the road. As the tires hit the gravel, the steering wheel vibrates under my hands, as if my SUV understands the significance of the moment. My heartbeat accelerates, my blood rushes, and heat blooms on my skin. I lower the window and take a deep breath, holding the cool December air in my lungs for a few seconds. I smell burning leaves and dampness. The first snow of the season is forecast for this evening. The weather won’t affect my plans. Nothing will. I exhale slowly, then repeat the exercise twice more, until my pulse steadies. After weeks of preparation, the first step of my plan is finally coming to fruition. I can’t—won’t—lose my nerve. Forest and fields flank the country lane. Winter has stripped the trees bare. There are three houses in sight. The blue saltbox in front of me is currently for sale, vacant and dark. It’s been on the market for over a year, and clearly no one has shown any interest in buying it. The property is listed as is. The siding desperately needs power washing. The lawn is both overgrown and dying. Weeds strangle the shrubs, and the rusted mailbox, beaten down by corrosion and neglect, leans on its post as if too exhausted to remain upright. My gaze shifts to the house across the street, a tiny white ranch-style home. A lamppost and a porch light both blaze. The owner left for work at four thirty, as he does every weekday afternoon. He must work nights, because he never returns until early morning. I know this because I’ve been watching the street, making careful notes about the residents’ activities. It’s the third house that interests me, the small farmhouse on the other side of the saltbox. Spencer LaForge—the first name on my list—lives there. Lights glow inside and out. On his dating app profiles, Spencer describes himself as a forty-seven-year-old digital marketer. His photos show a fit, attractive man with a smile full of straight white teeth and enough of a tan to make him appear outdoorsy. He claims to enjoy good conversation and a nice pinot noir. His hobbies include running, hiking, and reading. He’s looking for companionship and romance. That’s not what he’s going to get today. He doesn’t deserve a nice life anyway. He’s a liar, a cheat, a player. But the truth wouldn’t make an attractive dating profile, would it? Superficial, middle-age douchebag seeks hot younger woman to fuck and dump wouldn’t get many swipes. Killing him might seem a little harsh, but Spencer is a liar. Not the worst one, but a liar just the same. He must pay for the way he treats people. Today, I’ll cross him off my list. I pull back onto the road, park in the driveway of the vacant house, and get out of my SUV. I take my small backpack from the rear seat and heft it over one shoulder, then hoof it across the lawns to Spencer’s driveway. I stop in front of his attached garage, pull disposable gloves from my pocket, and tug them on. Then I enter Spencer’s four-digit passcode into the PIN pad mounted next to the doorframe—another important detail I gleaned from watching him through my binoculars. The overhead door rolls up. I slip inside and hurry past the black F-150. I walk past the riding