THE LAST AFFAIR
Author: Margot Hunt
ISBN:9780778309222
Publication Date: November 26, 2019
Publisher: MIRA BOOKS
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SUMMARY:
Gwen
Landon—poster woman for perfect wife, mother, and suburban bliss—is found
brutally bludgeoned to death behind her Floridian McMansion. Beautiful and
beloved by her community, Gwen makes an unlikely victim. But just a scratch
below the surface of her perfectly curated world reveals
one far more sinister. When looking back over the six months leading up to her
death, the question of, “who would do this?” quickly shifts to, “who wouldn’t?”
Commercially
successful food blogger and mother of three, Nora Holliday never imagined she
would have the nerve, let alone time, to get involved an affair. Trapped in an
unhappy marriage, she does whatever it takes to keep it all together. But when
Nora runs into Gwen Landon's husband at a hotel in Orlando, his easy kindness
and warmth proves too tempting to resist. As their affair spirals dangerously
out of control, it seems things can’t get more complicated—until Gwen turns up
dead.
EXCERPT:
The Last Affair, Margot Hunt
Other than the
woman’s blood-covered body splayed facedown in the grass, it could have been
any typical upscale Floridian backyard.
There was the
ubiquitous pool with a water fountain feature, a patio furnished with both a
dining set and outdoor sectional couch, and an enormous gas grill capable of
cooking hamburgers by the dozen. A large pergola with a tropical vine trained
over it covered part of the patio. The dining area was shaded by a
black-and-white-striped awning. It was the very picture of suburban domestic
bliss. It could have been the set for a commercial advertising anything from
laundry detergent to allergy medicine.
Again, except
for the dead body.
The area had
already been taped off. The first officers on the scene appeared with an
ambulance in response to a frantic 911 call placed by the woman’s daughter. The
paramedics had assessed the situation, and quickly determined that the woman
was dead. The fact that the back of her head had been bashed in with what
looked like a paving stone, conveniently dropped next to her prone body, made
it immediately clear that it had not been a natural death. The responding
officers called the sheriff, who responded by sending in a full investigative
team. The medical examiner was now doing a preliminary examination of the body,
while police officers combed the area for additional evidence. Two detectives,
Mike Monroe and Gavin Reddick—separated by twenty years and sixty pounds—were
overseeing the operation, standing at the edge of the patio under the shade of
the pergola. It was the third week in April, but this was South Florida and the
temperature had already climbed into the low nineties.
“The paving
stone came from the stack out in the front yard. They were delivered last week
by the company who’s installing the driveway,” Detective Reddick said. He was
the younger of the two men and had a wiry frame and angular face.
“Weapon of
convenience. Suggests it wasn’t premeditated,” Detective Monroe said. He had a
ruddy complexion and a full head of thick dark hair, swept back off his face. A
strand never moved out of place, even in a strong wind.
“Plus he
dropped the weapon, rather than taking it with him. Probably panicked.”
“Could be a
she,” Monroe said mildly.
Reddick
shrugged. “Blunt force trauma to the back of the head? You know the stats.
Overwhelming likelihood that it’s a man, and probably someone the victim was
intimately involved with. Husband, maybe a boyfriend.”
“The husband
was with the daughter when she called it in.”
“Doesn’t mean
he didn’t do it, and then had her place the call.”
“No, it
doesn’t.”
The family
had been sequestered indoors, both to keep them out of the way, and so that the
officers waiting in the house with them could observe anything they did or said.
Other than the husband, there was a daughter in her early twenties and a
teenage son. The daughter was reportedly distraught, while the husband and son
had both been eerily quiet. It was possible they were in shock.
“Do we have
an ID on the victim?” Reddick asked.
“It’s her
house,” Monroe grunted.
“Yeah, but I
like doing things the official way, you know? I’s dotted, t’s crossed, all of
that. Building a case, basic detective work.”
Despite the
chilling scene in front of them—the woman’s body still sprawled on the grass,
the back of her head a pulpy, bloody mess—the corner of Monroe’s mouth quirked
up in a half smile. “Sure, kid, tell me all about basic detective work. I’ve
only been doing this for, what…thirty-two years now? The husband ID’d her.
Victim is Gwen Landon, age forty-nine. Married, mother of two. Husband said she
hasn’t had any recent conflict with anyone.”
“Other than
the person who caved in the back of her head with a paving stone,” Reddick
pointed out.
“Wouldn’t be
the first time a husband didn’t know his wife as well as he thought he did.”
“Possible.
But there’s another possibility, too.”
“What’s
that?”
Reddick
turned to look at his partner. His eyes were small and dark, and he had a habit
of squinting when he concentrated intently on something.
“The husband is
a liar,” Reddick said.
BIO:Margot Hunt is a critically acclaimed author of psychological
suspense. Her work has been praised by Publisher's Weekly,
Booklist and Kirkus Reviews.
SOCIAL:
TWITTER:
@HuntAuthor
Insta:@margot_hunt
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