How to Kill a Guy in 10 Days

  How to Kill a Guy in 10 Days

  KAYLA PERRIN & BRENDA MOTT

  To Kayla, my “turtle sister,” for all the laughs we shared in writing this book. I never had so much fun putting together a synopsis!

  And to Lucia Macro and Helen Breitwieser, for seeing our vision through from plot to print.

  —Brenda

  This book is for my friend, Brenda Mott, with whom I had a blast coming up with this zany story. Thanks for the many, many laughs while plotting and writing this book. We make a great team!

  And to girlfriends everywhere—this one’s for you! So sit back with a margarita or a latte, read, and enjoy!

  —Kayla

  Contents

  Prologue

  Nothing But Lies.

  One

  The sign in the window of Gina’s Used Books snagged…

  Two

  I’ve seen some fine men in my time, and a…

  Three

  “Ohmygod, ohmygod!” I covered my mouth with my hand, my…

  Four

  “Hailey…” I stared at her, wondering what she was thinking.

  Five

  I woke up with my head pounding. It felt like…

  Six

  My heart leapt into my throat as first one of…

  Seven

  The excitement of the day and the previous night had…

  Eight

  The week after Hailey and I went to Mango’s sped…

  Nine

  As much as we wanted to learn more about Bianca,…

  Ten

  Hailey and I didn’t bother to stay for the show.

  Eleven

  When my phone rang the next day, I thought a…

  Twelve

  The next day, Hailey went with me to my commercial…

  Thirteen

  Partway through the reggae song, as I wracked my brain…

  Fourteen

  I pushed past Hailey and forced the storage door open…

  Fifteen

  After giving Josephine our cell phone numbers again in case…

  Sixteen

  The cops kept our store under their control for the…

  Seventeen

  “So, Bianca’s taken off,” Lexie said to me when we…

  Eighteen

  Now it was my turn to give chase.

  Nineteen

  The rest of the week went by fast, and by…

  Twenty

  When I saw the woman holding the gun, my entire…

  Twenty-one

  I woke up knowing that something was wrong. I was…

  Epilogue

  Before Friday night came, I went on a shopping spree.

  About the Authors

  Other Books by Kayla Perrin and Brenda Mott

  Credits

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  Prologue

  Hailey

  Nothing But Lies.

  That’s the name of the bookstore I own fifty percent of, a name my business partner and I thought was cute since we sell only fiction. Little did we know it would also foreshadow events to come, events I hope we never have to experience again.

  Lexie Muller is not only my business partner, she’s my best friend. The bookstore is a large part of how we reconnected after twelve years, and to say I’m glad we did is an understatement. My name is Hailey McGraw, and now that I’ve hit the big three-oh, I’ve come to know what’s important in life. Good friends, good books, and the ability to admit when you’re wrong.

  I was wrong when I married my ex-husband, but that’s another story. First, let me tell you how Lexie and I got together, and how we came to own a bookstore called Nothing But Lies. It all began on a day that started with me setting out to shop the pet store for a mate for my turtle, Speedy, and ended with Lexie and me finding a body…

  Lexie

  I’ve heard that going through divorce is a lot like losing someone who has died. I wouldn’t know, since I’ve never been married. I have lost loved ones, though, and by comparison I have to say that from where I stand, some divorces are not so much like death as they are a rebirth. At least that’s the way it seemed for my best friend, Hailey McGraw, when her marriage became a statistic. She was like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon the day her divorce became final.

  That was a day full of excitement, a day full of hope. A day we decided to celebrate not only her rebirth, but my thirtieth birthday. Hailey had hit that big milestone eight months before me, before we’d met each other again by chance at a Miami bookstore. Who would’ve thought we’d ever reach the big three-oh, back when we were in high school and full of eternal youth?

  Ah, but I digress. What I really want to tell you is how Hailey and I hooked up again after being apart for twelve years, and how we came to discover that “Party till you drop” can have a whole new meaning than the one intended…

  One

  Hailey

  GOING OUT OF BUSINESS SALE.

  ALL BOOKS 50%–75% OFF.

  The sign in the window of Gina’s Used Books snagged my attention the minute I pulled my pickup into the strip mall’s parking lot. Abandoning my original idea of going to the pet store, I instead headed straight for Gina’s. Wind chimes tinkled above the door as I entered, and the smell of cinnamon and coffee wafted across the air-conditioned room. Gina knows how to make her customers feel special, and the thought of her going out of business was enough to put me in a state of panic. I counted on her to provide me with my weekly fix of romance and mystery novels, which I’d purchased by the truckload from her since my high school days. And now that I’d come back to Miami for good, I’d expected to shop at her store once again. Who on earth would support my habit if Gina closed down?

  Oh, sure, there was always Barnes & Noble, but there was something about Gina’s store with its old-fashioned down-home charm—something that wasn’t found on every corner of the busy streets of Miami—that appealed to me. Gina’s made me feel like my grandmother had just sat me down in a corner of her country log home with an afghan, a good book, and a cup of café au lait. She couldn’t go out of business! Not when I’d just returned to Miami.

  My long legs ate up ground as I strode over the mint-colored carpet, straight for the front counter. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and I needed to make Gina see reason. I’d rally the customers around her, float her a loan, do whatever it took to keep her from shutting down my retreat, my solace, this store of my heart. Gina would listen to reason once I pointed out to her the ninety-nine reasons why she must stay open.

  But before I could locate her, my gaze fell on a pretty black woman standing near the register as I approached the front counter. She was browsing a shelf of books on the display rack, and something about her profile jiggled my memory. She stood relaxed yet poised, as though she had not a care in the world, and as I drew close, she glanced at me, a polite smile curving her lips. Recognition registered in her expression at the exact moment a grin broke out on my own face.

  Alexia Muller, my old high school friend. We’d become best buddies in eleventh grade, after she’d rescued me—the new kid from Sage Bend, Montana—from a group of bullies, and we’d grown closer as the years passed. But I hadn’t seen her since I’d left Miami.

  “Lexie?”

  “Hailey!”

  We leapt at each other at the same time, only Lexie’s move was more of a glide. Unlike me, she’s graceful, which I can only claim to be on the back of a horse. She’s so damned pretty it’s hard for strangers to see how down to earth she is at first glance. Lexie’s one of those women you want to hate, but can’t help liking within five minutes of striking up a conversation with her. Me, I always admired her looks in a way that I hoped wasn’t green-eyed monsterish. Hey, if you’ve got it, flaunt it, and Lexie had it going on. I’d always loved hanging with her. She attracted men like ants to a picnic. And me—I had enough “cute” in my mirror to keep at least some of them sitting on my side of the picnic blanket. Or so Lexie had always told me.

  “Girlfriend, what are you doing here?” She held me at arm’s length, her five-foot-eight-inch frame balanced on a pair of cute melon-colored heels that brought her up to eye level to my five-ten.

  “I can’t believe it’s really you!” I squeezed her in a bear hug, not wanting to let go. God, it had been a long time. Too long. No one should ever give up their girlfriends for a man—another lesson I’d learned the hard way when my ex had dragged me back to battle the wilds of Montana just days after our city hall wedding.

  “Are you living here again, or just on vacation?”

  “I moved back six days ago,” I said. My voice dropped to a serious tone. “Dad died.”

  Genuine sympathy creased Lexie’s brow. “Oh, hon, I’m so sorry.” She knew I’d lost Mom years ago when we were seniors. Mom’s death was what made me give in to Travis when he’d driven all the way to Miami to be with me for the funeral, then convinced me to marry him and go back to Montana. I hadn’t had much in the way of family, and now it was just me and my sister, Bailey, and her three darling children from hell.

  “Thanks.” I shrugged. “It was unexpected. He found out he had cancer and three weeks later he was gone.”

  “Oh.” Lexie wrapped her arms around me and gave me a good long hug.

  “But I’m okay,” I insisted, pulling apart from her. “And the last thing I want to do is get all weepy and emotional, so why don’t we grab a cup of coffee and catch up?”

>   Lexie smiled and pointed one neatly manicured fingernail at me. “You’re on, girl.”

  I still wanted to talk to Gina, but that would have to wait. It wasn’t every day you ran into your former best friend. And God, was it ever good to see Lexie again after all this time. I felt ashamed to have lost touch with her in the first place. But life has a way of interfering with your intentions, and these things happen.

  Linking arms, we strolled to the corner of the shop where Gina had a little coffee stand set up, complete with an old-fashioned counter and six cushioned stools. You could order coffee in every flavor imaginable. Customers got one free refill, but here’s the really amazing part: the complimentary fresh-baked cookies. Yes, Gina baked them herself. So you could cozy up with a book or a friend, drink specialty coffee, and eat free cookies. That perk alone kept people coming back to the store. Believe me, I’d gotten a few extra pounds on my thighs because of it—pounds I’d managed to lose riding my horse. I’d left my trusty little mare in Sage Bend with friends, and now I missed her. But finding Lexie again had me feeling certain I’d made the right choice in coming back to Florida.

  I spotted Gina chatting with a customer nearby and gave her a little wave as Lexie and I sat at the end of the counter. A girl who looked barely old enough to cross the street without her mother took our order. Then we settled in like old times, as if only twelve days rather than twelve years had passed between us.

  “So, what are you doing back here?” Lexie asked without preamble. “I thought you and your cowboy were riding the happy trails of Montana together.”

  I grimaced. “He didn’t turn out to be much of a cowboy, and the trails weren’t so happy.”

  “Oh?” Lexie arched one eyebrow and flicked her long, straight, cinnamon-colored hair over her shoulder.

  “He was more of a wannabe cowboy. I could outride him with my eyes closed!”

  Lexie laughed. “No doubt, cowgirl.”

  “And his ranch turned out to be a run-down double-wide in the middle of nowhere. We barely had electricity, and that wasn’t the worst of it…” I went on to fill her in on the woes of my almost-twelve-year marriage to Travis Hillerman, whom I’d met in my sophomore year of high school back in Sage Bend. Our whirlwind relationship began with too many tequilas snuck from the liquor cabinet of an unsuspecting parent of one of Travis’s friends. One look into his eyes, the color of dark chocolate, fringed by lashes that would’ve been better justified on a woman, and I was a goner.

  Then Mom got a job promotion that led to a transfer, and she’d happily uprooted me, Dad, and Bailey to move to Miami. Travis and I had pined for each other, racking up long-distance bills and writing sappy love letters—since the Internet hadn’t quite yet made its way to small-town Montana. Then Mom had died, Travis had come to her funeral, and before I knew it, I’d found myself turning my back on all my friends, including Lexie. I’d simply gotten hitched and left without so much as a second thought.

  Something I’d lived to regret.

  Thank God there were no innocent children involved, which had been something Travis and I had fought over as well. I’d wanted them, he hadn’t. Now I was grateful that no young lives were flung into upheaval over our divorce, though a part of me ached deep inside as my proverbial biological clock ticked at what seemed to be warp speed most of the time.

  “My divorce became final on Wednesday,” I finished.

  Today was Friday. I’d been a free woman, reborn, recapturing my maiden name for an entire forty-eight hours. I wondered if Eddie Murphy would be interested in starring in the movie version.

  Lexie clinked her coffee mug against mine in toast. “Here, here. I never did like Travis what’s-his-name, anyway. Here’s to being free of him.”

  We sipped our lattes. Lexie hadn’t known Travis all that well, and I could only suspect that her real dislike for my ex had come from the fact that he’d not only taken me away, but he’d essentially taken my friendship away from her when I’d married him.

  Gina hurried over a moment later, her eyes narrowing as she looked at me. “Hailey McGraw? Is that really you?”

  I beamed. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Good Lord, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me.” She wrapped her arms around me and squeezed me hard. “What are you doing back in town?”

  “Trying to find myself.” Briefly, I filled her in on Dad’s death and my divorce.

  She patted my hand. “I’m sorry to hear you’ve had such a run of hard luck. But it sure is good to see you again, regardless of why you’re back in town. And it’s good to see you too, Lexie, as always.” She gave us both a warm smile. “You girls let me know if you need a refill.”

  Gina hustled away to take care of another customer. I still wanted to talk to her about the bookstore, but I supposed it would have to wait.

  “So, what are you doing these days?” Lexie asked. “Jobwise, I mean.”

  “Nothing. Dad left me a pretty decent nest egg,” I said sadly. “I’d like to do something meaningful with it. I just haven’t decided what yet.”

  Concern streaked across her face. “Any kids?”

  “No!” I exclaimed.

  “Don’t sound so startled. You’re definitely the mothering type.”

  “One day…hopefully.” For now, I had Speedy to give lots of love.

  “With the right man,” Lexie offered. Her warm expression made me feel better about the whole prospect. She was right.

  “And you? I’m sure you’ve got a hot man, but I want to hear about your fabulous career. Because I know you’ve got one. Are you an actress, like you always wanted to be?”

  “Well,” Lexie began. “Sort of.”

  “You are an actress!” I exclaimed, but tamped down on my excitement when I saw her wary expression. “What’s the matter? You should be proud. Unless you’re doing something crazy like…” I giggled at the thought suddenly floating in my mind. When she didn’t smile, my eyebrows shot up. Oh, God, no. “Unless…Lexie, you’re not—I mean, you wouldn’t—”

  “Do anything crazy like work in the porn business?” she supplied in a lowered voice.

  She didn’t even blink, and my heart stopped. “Lexie!”

  “Hush, girl! I’m not that insane. Nor that desperate to be a ‘star.’ It’s just that I’m not exactly doing the kind of work I want or can be proud of. I guess you could call me the commercial queen.”

  She mimed twirling something in her hand, and instantly a lightbulb went off in my brain. “Ohmygod!” I stared at her. “You’re the Twirly-Brush Girl! Every time I saw that commercial, I thought she looked like you!”

  She chuckled wryly. “Yeah, well, I’m her. And the Tidy Toilet Woman. And the Zippy Zipper Bag Mom.” She shrugged. “It pays pretty well, which is nice, but it’s not exactly my ideal career. Either I get calls for all these bimbo roles, which I don’t want to do, or it’s commercials. At least commercials pay residuals.”

  “I got ya.” I heard the frustration in her voice, but still I was impressed. My friend—the commercial queen. How cool was that?

  “And what about that hot man?” I asked a moment later.

  Lexie held up her left hand and wiggled her fingers. “No ring.”

  “That doesn’t mean—”

  “Yes, it does.”

  Well, that was shocking. With her looks, how could she not have a man? Contemplating just that, I reached for my latte on the counter. From the corner of my eye, I noticed a woman approaching the coffee bar. A big woman, and I don’t mean fat! She was at least six feet tall, not counting her four-inch, ruby-red stiletto heels. And she filled out the dress she wore with as much pizzazz as Marilyn Monroe. It was short and sassy, and also red, flowing around the knees to add a delicate flavor to the definite sex appeal. My eyes went lower, taking in a set of legs that I couldn’t help but envy. The woman was definitely stunning. Her long red hair was thick and beautiful, and went well with her pretty blue eyes and amazingly long eyelashes.