Jealousy Junction Read online

  Jealousy Junction

  A Liars Island Suspense

  Cathryn Grant

  Copyright © 2021 by Cathryn Grant

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information, contact [email protected]

  ISBN: 978-1-943142-65-1 (ebook)

  This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity and are used fictitiously. All other characters, and incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.

  Visit Cathryn online at CathrynGrant.com

  Cover design by Cormar Covers Copyright © 2021

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Jealousy Junction

  Prologue

  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

  MORE FROM LIARS ISLAND….

  Also by Cathryn Grant

  A note from the author …

  Jealousy Junction

  A Liars Island Suspense

  Who is the liar here?

  Everything in my life was looking up. My organic grocery store was thriving; I had a charming and tender new guy in my life who was looking like he might be the real deal. And then my estranged sister reappeared in my life. I couldn’t have been happier.

  Until I wasn’t. Someone was stalking me. My sister was flirting with my boyfriend, and I was pretty sure he was flirting back.

  Someone was dead, and everyone might be lying.

  Welcome to Liar's Island... a stand-alone series of interconnected, novella length, domestic thrillers set in the picture-perfect community of Liars Island. Here, nothing is quite as it seems.

  On this island, families and friendships are more than meets the eye ... secrets, deceptions, and jealousies threaten to ruin everything these influential people have built. But it isn't only the rich that live here ... and power comes in all shapes and sizes.

  Everyone here is a liar ... just how far would you go to get what you want?

  Prologue

  The room was dark except for the faint glow of the nightlight.

  She hated that nightlight. All her life, she’d slept in total darkness, relishing the utter escape from reality. She slept with the window cracked open for soothing, healing, cool night air. The night air kept her breathing clear, allowing her consciousness to rest easily.

  She’d succumbed to the nightlight because her caregiver insisted upon it. How was the caregiver to enter the room at night to check on her if there was no light? How was the caregiver to correctly identify the medications before waking her to swallow a pill or three or five—whatever it was, she could never keep track? She hated that too, the dreamy half-sleep that made her uncertain whether or not she was truly sleeping.

  She lay in bed listening to the comforting sounds of the house settling into sleep, the soft creaks, the sighs, the occasional brush of a low-hanging pine branch against the eaves outside her window. She wished she could do the same.

  Usually, she loved the quiet of nighttime, but tonight, it was too quiet. She couldn’t put her finger on why she felt that way. She couldn’t say what sound was missing. The fact that her heart seemed to be thudding more loudly than normal told her that some ambient noise had been silenced.

  The house creaked and then was quiet again. This time, it was a creak that seemed louder or different somehow, less of a settling and more of a waking up.

  She felt her body tense. It was silly to think someone was in the house that wanted to hurt her. Of course someone was in the house—the caregiver. And the caregiver was there all the time to improve her quality of life and allow her to continue living independently. At least that’s what Rick and Cherry had told her, with Cherry’s husband nodding agreeably, standing a few steps to the side of the others.

  She truly appreciated their effort to make sure she could stay in her home. She wanted to die here, and they had vowed they would do their best to make sure that happened.

  But she wasn’t ready to die yet.

  No, there was some life-force that kept you going, that made you want to read books, watch the news, crochet, and most of all, talk to lifelong friends who lived next door.

  Yet, right now, with this strange absence of sound, except for the creaks that were ominous rather than comforting, she feared she was going to die. Was it a premonition? Did the body have senses that science hadn’t yet identified, some outer force that told it when harm was coming? Wasn’t that why you looked over your shoulder or why, when she’d still been driving, she always knew when a car was going to cut her off?

  Her eyes were wide open, staring into the darkness, stinging at the edges from that damn night light. Then, a moment later, the night light went out. The house became even quieter; the hum of electronics, even when they were turned off, was gone. Someone had cut the power.

  She struggled to raise herself to her elbows. Before she could, she heard the breath of another in the room. “Hello?” Her voice sounded weak, terrified. The sound of it, echoing what was inside, made her feel like crying. Or maybe she hadn’t spoken out loud. She couldn’t be sure.

  “Are you...” She kept her voice low, feeling foolish in the midst of her terror for talking to herself in the darkness. She strained again to raise herself to her elbows, turning in an attempt to reach the little bell that she tinkled to call the caregiver.

  Then, it all happened in the space of a single inhale and exhale. A rush of someone crossing the room, the extra pillow yanked from behind her head and placed over her face. The pillow was pressing down, tighter, harder. She tried to gasp and couldn’t.

  And then she was floating, feeling freer than she’d ever imagined possible.

  Chapter 1

  Moving from California to Liars Island had been an impulsive decision. Still, somehow, I felt like moving there was inevitable, that making a home on Liar’s Island was my destiny.

  However, it wasn’t at all impulsive that I wanted to open an organic grocery store. I’d wanted that for years, maybe since I’d been a little girl, handing a basket of vine-grown tomatoes I’d tended from seedlings to my family. Watching their eyes grow wide, their tongues creep out to lick the juice from their lips as they moaned softly over the sun-kissed flavor.

  I’d always thought I would watch my dream unfold in my hometown, but my mother was swept away by a rogue wave on a wild beach, and a few years later, my father died a slow, tormented death from cancer. After that, I just wanted to be somewhere else. Someplace fresh.

  Once I discovered Liars Island, only a few weeks passed before I had packed and moved, leased the site for Fresh Barons, and purchased a beautiful lakefront home with my inheritance.

  So far, my impulse had proven correct.

  Fresh Barons was everything I’d dreamed. I’d had the interior custom-designed and built so that it offered shoppers the atmosphere of a farmer’s market. The vegetables were in stands with canvas roofs, and the bulk nuts and dried fruits were stored in oak barrels.

  Now, I stood at the back of the store, just out
side the space that led to the warehouse and my office.

  The store hummed with shoppers. Even teenagers loved strolling the aisles of Fresh Barons, stopping in on their way to school to grab a smoothie or a fancy coffee drink made with locally sourced and organically grown beans. Women and men, young and old, pushed their carts at a leisurely pace, drinking in the aromas from the deli and even the faint undertone of roses from the tiny flower stand tucked in the corner near the main doors.

  I loved being in the store—my office, not so much. I did as much bookkeeping work as I could in my home office. The office in the corner of the warehouse was cold, even when the weather was warm.

  John Baker, a prince of a general manager in every way, was overseeing the stocking of recently delivered produce. “We’re still getting requests for a larger variety of mushrooms,” he said. “Almost every day.”

  I smirked. “Six varieties aren’t enough? It’s more than—“

  “You don’t have to tell me. I’m just passing on the word. I could check into it.”

  “You’re saying we should?”

  “Customers have fallen in love with you when they see you stock something they’ve asked for. It makes them feel noticed.”

  He was right about that. We just needed to have a little caution. There was a fine line between providing the greatest variety and having to deal with more waste.

  My phone buzzed in my back pocket. I pulled it out and looked at the message.

  My heart nearly stopped, literally. I’d expected a message from one of my section supervisors, or maybe from my newest friend on Liars Island, Lucky Channing. Lucky works as a stylist at the Blunt Cut but spends all her free time at political marches and was always trying to get me to join her.

  I half hoped it was a text from Jerry. We’d only been seeing each other for a month or so, but he was already staying at my house most nights.

  When he wasn’t with me, Jerry lived in a motor home at the campground he managed. He was the last guy I would have expected to fall for—two years younger than I was and kind of a hippie, although I guess some would consider an organic grocer to be leaning in the hippie direction. But he was so easy-going, so much fun, so optimistic, like me. Having an optimistic partner was important to me. It was also nice to be around someone who wasn’t as driven as I was most of the time. I had a lot of energy to burn, and Jerry was very good at keeping me grounded. I thought I might be falling in love.

  Lucky and some of my other friends gave me the side-eye when I told them Jerry and I were seeing each other. They didn’t think he was all that sharp. But I didn’t see him that way at all. It made me wonder if they’d ever actually talked to him for more than three minutes. He was probably more intelligent than quite a few of them.

  No, the text was from the last person I ever expected.

  My sister. The sister who made my heart ache every time I thought of her, but who had also made me vow I wouldn’t open myself to any more rejection. In most cases, I’m not a person who takes things personally. I’m happy and upbeat, and I try to see the best in everyone. Truly. It’s the truth.

  But you can’t let people keep stabbing you in the heart and not finally wake up and say—Hey, I might be able to make this pain stop if I don’t keep holding my heart out there on the palm of my hand where it’s free for anyone to attack. What I finally told myself was—Have some boundaries, Alexis.

  Even though Tanya and I had lived about fifteen minutes away from each other, she had cut me out of her life after our father died. She didn’t want to get together for dinner or even a drink. She didn’t want to talk to me about her wedding plans, and she didn’t want to go for a hike or shopping or even chat on the phone.

  Then, she failed even to ask my opinion when she sold our family home without looking back. She had inherited the house, while my inheritance consisted of liquid assets. My father had been thrilled that his legacy would be my vision for helping people put healthy, pure food into their bodies. He loved that I had a dream, and with that gorgeous house, my sister and I inherited equal value.

  Even with all of that, I still wanted to be close to Tanya. She wanted nothing to do with me. She was that jealous. I guess that’s what I would call it. What is it when a father does his best to give his daughters what he thinks they will cherish—seed money for the business I’d already written a business plan for, and the house to Tanya and her fiancé, starting their new life, already dreaming of the four kids they wanted?

  Her first message was brief.

  Tanya: Jake and I called it off.

  This was followed by about fifteen sobbing emojis, then three gifs of sobbing women.

  I texted back that I was sorry to hear that. I wasn’t sure what else to say. I was genuinely shocked. I’d been living on Liars Island for nearly a year. I hadn’t even received a Christmas card from her, despite having sent mine extra early to be sure she had my address. She’d tossed my housewarming invitation without an RSVP, and I had no doubt she’d never bothered to enter my address into her phone.

  Tanya: I’m on my way. Departure indefinite.

  Alexis: What?

  Tanya: To visit you, sis! To reconnect. I can’t wait to see your new digs. I want to cry on your shoulder. Not sure how long I’ll stay.

  Apparently, she hadn’t tossed my address. I stared at the words on the screen. They started to jitter slightly. Part of me—the foolish, family-hungry, too-quick-to-forgive-and-hope-for-the-best part of me felt a thrill I couldn’t describe.

  The wiser and close-to-falling-in-love part of me didn’t want to share my home with anyone but Jerry. What if he and I didn’t have any alone time while Tanya made herself welcome? What if I reconnected with my sister and Jerry felt neglected? And most important of all, what if Tanya and Jerry didn’t get along?

  Chapter 2

  Tanya showed up in an Uber just before dinner. I’d made spaghetti, which would be perfect for leftovers if she didn’t show up, a distinct possibility with her. She hadn’t given me an arrival time, and when I texted her back, the message didn’t go through. I guessed she was on the plane, but I didn’t know for sure.

  Jerry had stopped by the Kitchen Bakery and picked up a luscious chocolate thing for dessert. Kitchen Bakery is right around the corner and up the street from Fresh Barons, but I didn’t think about dessert until I was home, elbow-deep in pasta and tomato sauce.

  Jerry and I were sitting in the living room, sipping a very smooth Zinfandel. Jerry was commenting on the wine, which hadn’t been his thing until he met me.

  Through the picture window that faced the water, the street, and a narrow green belt running between the house and the water, we saw a black compact car pull to the curb. The back door opened, and my sister climbed out. The driver popped the trunk, and we stood at the window watching as she unloaded three small bags, followed by two enormous suitcases.

  “It looks like she’s moving in,” Jerry said. He leaned his head against mine. His tone was mild, only stating the facts, not revealing an opinion about what that might mean.

  I moved away from him, put my glass on the table, and went into the kitchen. I turned down the heat under the spaghetti sauce and took a deep breath. As I exhaled, the doorbell chimed.

  The minute the door opened and she saw us standing there, Tanya smiled. Her hair was down and loose, unlike my French braid, my preferred style for work, but I could see that our hair was still almost the same length.

  Jerry glanced at me, then turned his attention back to Tanya. “You two look a lot alike.”

  Tanya laughed. “Except I’m younger and—“

  I had to give her that. She cut herself off before she said what she’d said for years when people met both of us at the same time—Except I’m younger and prettier.

  “And who are you?” She smiled at Jerry. “Alexis said absolutely nothing about a gorgeous man being here to welcome me.”

  Jerry laughed. “I’m with Alexis.”

  “With, as in you live h
ere?”

  “He stays here most nights,” I said.

  We ushered Tanya upstairs to the main floor and into the living room. I poured her a glass of wine while Jerry went back downstairs to the ground floor where my home office was located. He lugged her bags up the stairs and left them in the guest room.

  Things went a bit more smoothly after that. Tanya managed to put a lid on her default mode around men—flirt first, find out who they are later. We talked easily. Tanya told us about her dramatic break-up with Jake, which had involved lots of tears and shouts and hugging, followed by sex for the last time or several last times. He told her she could keep the ring, but she’d pawned it because she was a little low on cash. I didn’t ask why. I definitely did not want to discuss money with my sister.

  I told her about Fresh Barons and how excited I was about its popularity. Jerry told her stories of the two years he’d spent driving and camping around the country, meeting all kinds of strange and interesting characters, smoking weed with some, drinking beer with others, discussing the mysteries of the universe, and more with all of them.

  Tanya laughed. “What mysteries, specifically?”

  Jerry shrugged. “You know, trippy stuff your brain thinks of.”

  “Whatever that means.” Tanya asked what he did for a living and when he said he managed a campground, she smiled in a way that looked slightly condescending, but she didn’t make any comments. Maybe I’d misread her expression.