Page 23 of The Perfect Illusion (Jessie Hunt #39)

The woman followed Caroline Walters down the street, making sure not to get too close.

As she watched her target make a long, full pause at the stop sign, a singular thought popped into her head: Walters put on a better show than the others. Both of the prior victims made no secret of how much they relished their new, uber-luxurious lives with their wealthy, older husbands.

Walters had managed to keep her avarice under wraps so far.

She still worked at some crappy, broken-down school, wiping drool from toddlers’ mouths.

Her wardrobe hadn’t changed dramatically since the wedding, and she still drove the same Jeep Compass she’d had for the last seven years.

To any casual observer, Walters was an angel.

But the woman knew it was all a front. Just like the others, Walters was a two-timer who had abandoned her spouse for an older, richer model. It was both obvious and offensive. And like the others, Walters would pay for her rapaciousness.

The woman observed Walters pull into her driveway, but she kept going down the street until she could find a spot to make a U-turn. When she returned, she noted that Walters had left the trunk open and was walking toward her front door with grocery bags in each hand.

The timing was perfect. The woman parked the car on the street behind a large hedge that blocked her own vehicle from being seen by any home security cameras. Then she got out of the car and looked around the neighborhood. There was no one in sight.

She was already dressed all in black, but now, as she walked toward the house, she pulled out the black ski mask and put it on her head.

Then she slid on the black gloves. Finally, as she walked down the path, she tapped her right side to make sure the sheath was still connected to her waistband.

In the sheath was a ten-inch hunting knife.

Satisfied that everything was in place, she walked through the open front door into the house.