Lust and Lies 04 - Pretty Maids in a Row

wide apart and the man on his knees between them.
    Pushing himself away from the wall, Luke was about to move on when his second gasping breath reached the woman's ears. As she turned toward the sound, a surge of electrical power allowed the faltering streetlight to momentarily illuminate her portion of the alleyway.
    For several heartbeats they were both paralyzed by the surprise of being discovered. But what Luke saw caused sufficient panic to get him running again.
    In the whore's right hand was a blood-drenched knife and, clutched in her left, was her client's nearly severed head.

    For Every Evil
    An Erotic Romantic Suspense Novel
    by
    Marilyn Campbell
    ~
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    For Every Evil
    from your favorite eRetailer,
    visit Marilyn Campbell's eBook Discovery Author Page
    www.ebookdiscovery.com/MarilynCampbell
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    with and excerpt from Marilyn Campbell's
    See How They Run
    A Sordid Tale of Romantic Suspense



Excerpt from

    See How They Run
    A Sordid Tale of Romantic Suspense

    by

    Marilyn Campbell
    USA Today Bestselling Author

"George Washington was a wuss!"
    Barbara Johnson shot a disapproving glance at her son, Matthew, then returned her attention to backing their weather-beaten Honda Civic out of the driveway. After so many years of Matt being too timid to say much of anything, she hesitated to reprimand him now that he'd begun behaving like other nine-year-old boys.
    "Let me guess," she said, as if she were giving it serious thought. "Kenny gave you that bit of information."
    Matt looked about ready to defend his friend, but he reconsidered. "Well, sort of. But it was in the movie we saw in class the other day."
    She shot him a quizzical glance. "The Father of Our Country was called a wuss in an educational movie? What did your teacher say about that?"
    Matt rolled his eyes over his mother's obvious teasing. "Ma-a-aw. They didn't use that word exactly. They just showed how when he was a kid, he liked to dance and write mushy poems. Junk like that."
    "Oh, I see," Barbara said, nodding solemnly. "Girl junk."
    Something on the side of the road distracted Matt. "Where did you say we're going today?"
    His abrupt change of subject made her grin. He knew he had stumbled into sensitive territory where Mom was concerned. Rather than repeat her equality of the sexes speech, she answered his question.
    "Since Washington's birthday just passed, I thought we'd go see where he was born. It sounded interesting. Besides the memorial house, there's a farm where the animals and crops are raised the same way they were in colonial days."
    He perked up at the mention of farm animals. "Is it far?"
    "About thirty miles. The brochure said it opens at nine. We should get there a little after that."
    When she and Matt first moved into the little house in Fredericksburg, Virginia, she had vowed they would see as much of the surrounding historic area as possible before they were forced to move again.
    So far, during Matt's short life, the two of them had lived in eleven other cities, but had never really become familiar with any of them. Their stay in Fredericksburg had now stretched to nearly two years, and it definitely looked as though they finally would be able to stay somewhere for as long as they wished. Nevertheless, at least one Saturday a month, Barbara still selected a famous site between Richmond and Washington, D.C., for them to visit.
    The last two outings had been to the Smithsonian, where they spent the day indoors, but an unseasonable warm spell allowed Barbara a wider range of choices this weekend. And when given a choice, she knew her son's preferences well.
    Just as his father had, Matt loved animals and they seemed to love him right back. An image of Howard being nuzzled by his horse popped into her mind and she quickly erased it. She never purposely called up memories of Matt's father anymore. It was simply impossible not to think of him when every time she looked at her son's face she saw the gentle, artistic young man who had once meant the world to her. Perhaps she could have dismissed the similarities in their personalities if Matt had inherited her dark features rather than Howard's fair coloring.
    Then again, perhaps not. She was a realist and the fact was, Matt's existence, regardless of his appearance or behavior, was a constant reminder of Howard and how falling in love with him had turned her pleasant life into a