Little Dark Deeds | Georgiana Germaine Mysteries Book 12 | Paperback
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It’s Georgiana Germaine’s wedding day. But when one of her closest friends is noticeably absent from the ceremony, Georgiana worries something sinister is to blame. She soon learns she’s right after she stops by Tiffany’s home and finds her lifeless body sprawled out on the bathroom floor. Left with more questions than answers, Georgiana sets off on a dangerous pursuit for Tiffany’s killer … a heart-pounding journey that will keep you on the edge of your seat until the bitter end.
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"I will definitely read more from this author." ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
"Kept me on the edge of my seat." ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
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READY FOR A SNEAK PEEK OF CHAPTER ONE?
Tiffany Wheeler rushed around the walk-in closet, yanking clothes off hangers and stuffing them into her suitcase. One quick glance at the clock on the bedroom wall and she sighed. She was running behind. If she was going to make it to the airport in time to catch her flight to New York City, she had to be out the door in the next forty-five minutes, and she hadn’t even showered yet.
Grabbing her terry-cloth bathrobe off the end of the bed, Tiffany headed for the bathroom, turning the shower’s handle as she stepped inside. The cool water splashed onto her back, and she winced, wishing she’d allowed the water temperature to heat up first. But today, time was not on her side.
Tiffany reached for the soap, her thoughts turning to tomorrow and the wedding of one of her closest friends, Georgiana Germaine. Tiffany had known Georgiana since elementary school, though they’d had a rocky start. One day in the school cafeteria, Tiffany noticed a bag of Cheetos inside Georgiana’s A-Team lunchbox, and she snatched it, thinking no one had seen the dirty deed. But two boys at the opposite end of the table had, and when Georgiana accused them of thievery, they were quick to point fingers, singling out the offender.
As Tiffany tried making a run for it, Georgiana sprinted in her direction, hands fisted. She punched Tiffany square in the nose, breaking it. Blood sprayed all over Tiffany’s pastel pink dress, and it wasn’t long before every eye in the room was on them. From then on, many of her fellow classmates called her Squirt, and Georgiana became her sworn enemy.
Years passed before Tiffany and Georgiana spoke again, when one day Georgiana found Tiffany hiding under the bleachers, mourning the traumatic breakup with her boyfriend. She’d indulged in a bit too much tequila, which had been supplied by a friend, and was far from sober. Knowing Tiffany was in no condition to go home, Georgiana decided to call Tiffany’s mother and pretend she needed help on a school project. The plan worked, and for the next several hours Tiffany rested in Georgiana’s bedroom, chugging water until she was sober enough to head home.
Ever since, the duo had been the best of friends.
Thinking back on it now, Tiffany laughed. Life could be crazy, but at times it had a way of mending hearts—hers and Georgiana’s, at least. As happy as Tiffany was for Georgiana’s upcoming nuptials, Tiffany’s own love life was in shambles. One week earlier, while in the office at her law firm, a woman came in, bursting into tears the moment they made eye contact. The woman’s name was Jana, and she’d come to deliver a terrible truth. Spencer, the man Tiffany had been dating for over six months, was married—to Jana.
Tiffany had spent the past several days grieving the breakup, her heart in pieces. The man she thought was different than the rest, a man she hoped to one day marry, had been fooling her all along, and she’d fallen for it.
Again.
It wasn’t an ideal time for her to be attending a wedding.
But tomorrow wasn’t about her.
It was about Georgiana.
And she was determined to push her feelings of discomfort to the side and put on a happy face for her dear friend.
Returning to the present moment, Tiffany reached for the shampoo. Popping the lid open, she squirted a dollop onto her palm, then rubbed her hands together to create a thick lather. She worked it into her long, blond hair, and as the suds fell over her face, she heard what sounded like a door closing. Through the muffled sound of the water, she couldn’t be sure.
She rinsed the suds out of her eyes, moved the shower curtain to the side, and peeked out, listening.
A breeze drifted by. She guessed it was from the window she’d left open in the bedroom. It had been a windy day—perhaps the wind had blown something over.
Deciding it was nothing, Tiffany shrugged, dipping beneath the water for one last rinse. She shut the water off and stepped out, bending down to reach for her bathrobe, which had fallen on the floor. She wrapped it around herself and turned, panic flooding her mind as she came to the realization she was not alone.
An intruder stood in the bathroom’s doorway, knife in hand.
With no way to escape, she stepped back. “No, please. Don’t hurt me.”
Her pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears, the knife lifting and then plunging down—again, and again, and again.
As Tiffany drew her last breaths, one last thought ran through her mind—if Georgiana would have been in her position, what would she have done?
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