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Dead Secret
Ava McCarthy
From the author of the Harry Martinez thrillers comes a gripping psychological suspense novel. Perfect for fans of Elizabeth Haynes and Gone Girl.Two quick shots. One for him. One for you.After the death of her three-year-old daughter, Jodie has nothing left to live for – or almost nothing.She has one task to fulfil before she takes her own life. And that’s to kill the man she holds responsible for her daughter’s death – her seemingly perfect husband, Ethan.But Ethan is hiding more than just his true nature. And as more horrifying secrets from his past emerge, Jodie’s strength will be pushed to the limit…
Copyright (#u954ce44e-e0f1-5430-a507-a96fdcd4e48a)
Harper
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk)
Published by HarperCollinsPublishers 2016
Copyright © Ava McCarthy 2016
Ava McCarthy asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers 2016
Cover photographs © Joyce Vincent/Arcangel Images (woman);
Shutterstock.com (http://shutterstock.com) (all other images)
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
This is entirely a work of fiction. Any references to real people, living or dead, real events, businesses, organizations and localities are intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity. All names, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and their resemblance, if any, to real-life counterparts is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books
Ebook Edition © JANUARY 2016 ISBN: 9780007363933
Version 2015-09-16
Dedication (#u954ce44e-e0f1-5430-a507-a96fdcd4e48a)
For the family unit; more important than anything: Tom, Mark, Megan, Duffy and Goldy.
Table of Contents
Cover (#ubec6dae7-8a2a-5f14-9570-0b6343a6f8e0)
Title Page (#ud86da599-f25a-5567-92e0-8a40a3e2964d)
Copyright (#u35045b7e-41b4-589a-8de3-b31fcdc6e5b6)
Dedication (#ub0c66098-78f3-5e12-96ac-b11c1cfe70ad)
Part One (#ub0c03dc9-1e58-588a-9f04-a471ab5b6698)
Chapter 1 (#u4eda14e1-bca5-59e4-a9bd-9fa22be7fc16)
Chapter 2 (#u3d0832d8-6d44-5a4c-84fd-1ba303c56a67)
Part Two (#ue5a82242-bbf6-5571-8b7d-9ef0144adc72)
Chapter 3 (#u254ad2a2-1e2d-5e03-9359-3598f914e483)
Chapter 4 (#u60e02ee5-6f41-500f-806c-15814a4d72fc)
Chapter 5 (#ud5275042-df16-5c2a-b685-5ea4fdbb2977)
Chapter 6 (#uddbea4f1-7184-53a5-8c8c-0f042a0a435e)
Chapter 7 (#u39422116-3a26-5624-9efd-be8091167723)
Chapter 8 (#uc9d90c19-a81b-5da5-982b-ed100032710f)
Part Three (#u35590a72-37b0-557f-b4bd-8bf46d07ceaf)
Chapter 9 (#u94e94b14-875d-5986-8675-12de17631aa7)
Chapter 10 (#ube337322-1b25-5159-aa7c-7bb7c887cee4)
Chapter 11 (#ud82b739e-8725-50c6-ab0a-9e854506203d)
Chapter 12 (#u4386622f-db2b-535a-9444-7938a00992cd)
Chapter 13 (#uf0bc1da7-421a-52d4-a9ae-a9118965fb9d)
Chapter 14 (#ufa5c65c7-0381-54df-9fea-d462480a4e0b)
Chapter 15 (#ub1e16c7d-ce43-59d7-8d04-2df39ca8fb4e)
Chapter 16 (#u96b9edcb-39c2-5dec-a7e0-a2e787b41d77)
Chapter 17 (#u3ce7f568-f37d-5699-ad3d-21215a0aa8e3)
Chapter 18 (#uf0d8114b-269c-5e01-b42e-7134ea9202e9)
Chapter 19 (#u956ba860-d95b-50b6-aa94-16bc64b261a8)
Chapter 20 (#u110efd82-6bf1-57a0-808f-85ca32a1c10c)
Chapter 21 (#u4d4fe438-fd17-563f-97e5-f02f2c366d04)
Chapter 22 (#ua11a4f00-30f4-5b87-b1f0-1fc42aff9f2a)
Chapter 23 (#u0f637037-45e6-5827-86b7-4f8a9eae0cb3)
Chapter 24 (#u9362c128-86fe-5386-9015-fef34a45820f)
Chapter 25 (#ua560cfe5-af9f-5516-a1aa-ac4752243f53)
Chapter 26 (#uc38d30f4-7f7d-52b7-9029-f5fbbda60b69)
Chapter 27 (#u63825e93-d501-5b32-abe0-5ad9740fd7bf)
Chapter 28 (#u5d97366d-76a4-5920-b6a6-332dfab1e2c2)
Chapter 29 (#u53089674-5b28-5ce6-988b-eb739e72f548)
Chapter 30 (#u51fdf5ed-2cc1-5a7a-97d3-2cff9464b622)
Chapter 31 (#u335e1c5c-766b-56a6-b58f-1add700b73cf)
Chapter 32 (#u72afe6ad-7a18-5bd4-b89e-053478f49a1d)
Chapter 33 (#u5af81e3b-637e-50a1-861d-56351c22db09)
Chapter 34 (#u60e3259b-47ee-53fe-8677-362d835f5230)
Chapter 35 (#u2fb928ba-239e-5400-b11b-362638c1fbb0)
Chapter 36 (#u254263f2-226b-5f5c-bbde-fdce614f47b8)
Chapter 37 (#u7bbe4245-4da8-5e24-9530-b8c50af69de7)
Chapter 38 (#u581aa085-92d2-5834-8d92-a1a05b75535f)
Chapter 39 (#ufc187534-94a3-5bc3-9a41-97f1a42d2d6d)
Part Four (#ue03fa229-0801-5810-aa80-9fcd50780de1)
Chapter 40 (#u0c99d31b-b453-5c1d-ab43-2ff901ecf7ca)
Chapter 41 (#uac1d45a9-42ca-5195-9bdb-3af37b860eed)
Acknowledgements (#u82708b1a-28f7-586d-9a31-c434c0792abc)
About the Author (#u9affd954-c2df-519f-a112-6f057eb64090)
By the Same Author (#u685ed0d5-71cb-5a35-bcbc-74972e2233e0)
About the Publisher (#u2f9d68ba-1c74-5e6d-8789-f994fe8738aa)
PART ONE (#u954ce44e-e0f1-5430-a507-a96fdcd4e48a)
1 (#u954ce44e-e0f1-5430-a507-a96fdcd4e48a)
Jodie loaded the gun the way she’d seen Ethan do it: finger-checking the rounds so they were lined up flush, then smacking the magazine up into the grip.
Her jittery hands almost fumbled the manoeuvre. She clenched them steady, then racked the slider back to chamber the first round.
Clack-snap.
Nine bullets loaded, but she’d only need two.
One for Ethan.
The other one for herself.
She flashed on her husband’s face; on his fixed stare, and the twisted mind-games shape-shifting behind it. Sweat prickled down her spine. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe it would take more than one bullet to kill Ethan.
Fireworks hissed and crackled outside the car, and the sky exploded into a weeping willow of light. Jodie peered through the windscreen, scanning the strobe-lit crowds that lined the lake perimeter. Ethan was out there somewhere, masquerading tonight as Mister Nice Guy, a back-slapper and hand-shaker for the Fourth of July celebrations.
She slid the gun into her bag, then reached out to the drawing pad that lay on the seat beside her, lifting it onto her lap to leaf through it one last time.
The paintings were childlike but imaginative, showing uncomplicated feelings rather than copies of objects: the tangle of scribbly black for the cranky family cat; the sunshine-yellow splodge for the spring picnic; bursts of colour splattered from a height, paint squeezed straight from the tubes to the page.
‘Look what I can do, Mommy!’
Jodie brushed her fingertips across the rounded letters marking the bottom of every page: Abby McCall Age 3.
Her throat constricted. She swallowed against it, but the ache intensified, crushing her chest, choking her, smothering her, sending her spinning.
Breathe!
She bowed her head, took deep, shuddery breaths. Found a dead, flat place somewhere inside her and invited the numbness back in.
Slowly, Jodie straightened up. Touched a hand to the drawing pad. Turned a page.
Blob-figures. The family unit. Abby holding Badger, the black snarl of a cat, flanked by Jodie and Ethan. Wide curves for mouths, vibrant red and yellow clothes. Finger-daubed by Abby.
The next few pages were the same. But by the last set of drawings, the colours had muted: faded blues, dull browns. With each painting, Ethan’s blob-figure stood further apart from the others, the mouth growing straighter, the features fainter, until finally he had no face at all.
Jodie shivered. Even little Abby had seen it.
She closed the pad, cradling it in her lap before setting it back on the seat. Then she lifted her chin, shouldered her bag and clambered out of the car.
The night air was cool against her skin. Volleys of rockets sizzled skywards, erupting into starbursts over the lake. Her eyes raked the spectators by the water’s edge, hunting for her husband’s lean, elegant frame.
She threaded through the crowds, the air dry and flinty with the smell of burned-out fireworks. She pushed closer to the shoreline, where the water, normally tea-coloured, looked black and oily in the dark.
Up ahead, her gaze snagged on a familiar figure: the plump silhouette of Nancy Adams. Jodie went still. For an instant, she caught the other woman’s eye, then Nancy glanced away.
