Free Dead Giveaway by Joanne Fluke Page B

old-fashioned girl. She’d taken her marriage vows seriously. She’d promised Hal she wouldn’t sleep with anyone else, and she hadn’t, not then. But Hal still got angry if he thought her dresses were too tight and someone whistled at her on the street. He stopped taking her to restaurants because he said the waiters leered at her. And he made her give up her acting classes because of a love scene, even though it was right there in the script.
    Then he’d started to harass her about the other men in the building. Couldn’t she see that Clayton was staring when she wore her pink bikini? She should wear a modest one-piece suit. And no more tennis in the mornings with Jayne and Paul. He was sure that Paul had gotten an eyeful when she’d bent over to lob the ball.
    At first Vanessa had tried to please him. But one day last year, when he’d yelled at her about parading around in front of the man who came to repair the refrigerator, Vanessa had lost her temper. The refrigerator repairman was at least sixty years old and life was too short to put up with this kind of grief. She’d told Hal she wanted a divorce.
    Hal had laughed and told her to talk to Clayton about that prenuptial agreement she’d signed. An honest lawyer, Clayton told her all the facts. She’d only get a small allowance if she divorced Hal, but she’d get half of everything Hal had if Hal was the one to divorce her.
    Vanessa had set out to drive Hal straight to divorce court. First, she’d spent hours in town, shopping in all the expensive stores and picking out everything she’d ever wanted. But Hal had just cut off her credit. And he’d taken away the keys to her car so she was stuck up here on the mountain like some sort of prisoner.
    When spending too much of Hal’s money hadn’t worked, she’d tried to play on his jealousy. Surely he’d divorce her if he knew she was sleeping with his friends. Vanessa was a little ashamed of herself, but she’d set out to seduce them systematically, starting with Clayton. Ever since Darby had died of cancer, he’d been lonely and he’d jumped at the chance to take her to bed. Then there was Marc, who was always up for a pretty woman. And Johnny Day. But Hal hadn’t reacted at all, even though she’d flaunted it.
    Paul had been polite and friendly, but he hadn’t seemed to understand what she wanted. Vanessa figured it was his Scandinavian background, so she’d finally given up and tried for Jack. He’d been impossible, too. One day, when she’d practically thrown herself at him, Jack had hugged her and told her that he was flattered. She was pretty and sexy and he didn’t blame her for trying to drive Hal to divorce, but he wasn’t about to play her game.
    She’d picked Alan next, mostly because Hal liked Laureen. But sleeping with Alan hadn’t worked, either. Hal had shouted at her and called her a tramp, but he hadn’t filed any papers. There was only one man left, Walker Browning, but while Vanessa no longer had a Southern accent, she still had her Southern prejudices. There was no way she’d seduce a black man. At her wits’ end, she’d figured that Moira was nice enough, and Hal might go crazy if she slept with a woman. So she’d spent the past two weeks cozying up to Moira, asking her advice on decorating and pretending to be very interested in learning about furniture arrangement and color schemes. Moira was flattered at all the attention, but Grace kept interrupting at just the wrong times.
    Vanessa sighed as she tossed the towel into the hamper. Over a year old, its satin edges were already beginning to fray, just like her nerves. Something just had to happen to take Grace out of the picture for a couple of days so she’d have time to zero in for the kill.
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    Thirty Minutes before 10:57 AM
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    The phone on the fourth floor rang three times.
    â€œHello,