While She Slept

WHILE SHE SLEPT A PSYCHOLOGICAL SUSPENSE THRILLER N. L. HINKENS CONTENTS 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 Epilogue Biography Books by N. L. Hinkens Books by Norma Hinkens Follow Norma 1 When I wake up on the first day of our honeymoon, I expect Declan to be lying here next to me whispering "Good morning, Mrs. Cafferty," in my ear, his easy grin spreading across his face as he rubs his goatee against my cheek before smothering me with kisses. But when I stretch out my hand to find him, his side of the bed is cool to the touch. A flicker of disappointment stirs inside me, but I’m determined not to begin the day irritated that he’s gone out for an early morning run and left me to sleep in. It’s not as if we’re co-dependent teenagers, and this isn’t a first marriage for either of us. Declan made it clear from the outset how important his training schedule is to him. He’s been looking forward to pounding the leafy, country roads around the idyllic Airbnb cottage we rented in County Clare on the west coast of Ireland. I yawn and stretch my arms lazily over my head, admiring my new wedding band as I try to decide if I’m ready to roll out of bed and make myself a large mug of coffee. My thoughts turn to work, as they usually do first thing in the morning, but it’s too early to check in with my assistant, Maddie. It’s only 1:00 a.m. in Los Angeles where I work as a controller for a technology company. I’m one of those fortunate people who love their job. It kept me sane when I lost my first husband, Eric, to an aggressive colon cancer four years ago—a dark, surreal time when all my dreams were abruptly put through a shredder. I never imagined when I was walking down the aisle that the expiration date would come so soon. Eric and I were soulmates. It’s not the kind of relationship you can easily go out and replace—more like the kind people die of a broken heart from—which made it all the more remarkable when Declan came into my life. Stop it, Abby! I rub my face vigorously to rid myself of any lingering thoughts of loss. Those memories have no claim on me today. I’m spending my honeymoon in the beautiful Emerald Isle—no longer a widow, but a bride, once again. I’m ready to embrace my new reality and let go of the pain I’ve clung to during too many long, lonely nights, as silence echoed off the walls of my house. Today, I have new memories to make. I smile to myself as I plump up my pillow, recalling the intimate wedding ceremony Declan and I planned down to the last detail, attended only by family and a few close friends. It was everything I hoped it would be. Well, almost everything. Declan’s sixteen-year-old adopted daughter, Brynn, was a somewhat reluctant maid of honor, if I’m being honest. We did everything we could to make her feel as much a part of our new family as possible—including a commitment to love her in our marriage vows. Brynn is the only child I will ever have, and I intend to honor my promise to her. I even landed on the idea of sharing the phoenix, a mythological bird endowed with longevity and characterized by its power to be reborn from its ashes, as our family symbol of hope and new beginnings. We gifted Brynn a fourteen-karat gold ring with the bird embossed into it, I chose a necklace, and Declan got a phoenix tattoo on his leg. Brynn seemed to buy into the idea at the time, but I noticed she wasn’t wearing her ring at the ceremony. It could have been a gesture of defiance, but it wasn’t worth bringing up and risking an argument over. Maybe she felt it was disloyal to her deceased mother. With a final contented stretch, I whisk back the duvet and swing my legs over the edge of the bed to peer through the crack in the curtains at the vibrant rolling countryside. I get to my feet and plod across the wooden floorboards to take in the view. The undulating fields are blanketed in a plush green, the kind of saturation you only ever see in a land kissed by rain on a near daily basis. The morning sun eases its way through scattered clouds, its rays electrifying the lush mantle of grass below. In the distance, I can make out the faint outline of a rainbow, and my grin widens. It’s a good sign on the first day of our ten-day honeymoon—not that I have any need of the fabled pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. I have Declan. At the creak of the front door opening, my mood instantly elevates at the thought of my new husband’s return and a day spent exploring the soaring cliffs and sandy beaches. Kneeling by my suitcase, I rummage around for a sweater to throw over my shoulders. Despite the promise of blue skies, April in Ireland is not particularly warm. Maybe we’ll find a pub with a roaring fire and some traditional Irish music to while away a few hours in this evening. "Hello? Anyone home?" a female voice sings out. I get to my feet, my mood deflating a fraction. "Be right there!" I call back, as I wrestle my arms