Mother-Daughter Murder Night by Nina Simon EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Nina Simon
- Language: English
- Genre: Suspense
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Three hundred miles south, Lana Rubicon lay sprawled on the dark slate
floor of her kitchen, wondering how she got there.
Her interest was not philosophical. She didn’t want to know how she’d
arrived on this planet or which of her Greek ancestors had blessed her with
wrinkle-proof olive skin. She wanted to know why she’d collapsed, what
was making her feel like a drunk at the carnival on a Wednesday at 7 A.M.,
and whether she could still make her 8 A.M. investor meeting.
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She turned her head in small, careful increments, trying to get her
bearings. Her briefcase and snakeskin heels were waiting for her in the front
hallway to the left. To the right, the stainless steel door of the fridge was
wide open, bottles of mineral water and premade salads lit from within as if
they’d come from heaven instead of the Gelson’s delivery boy. A gooey
liquid streaked across the floor from the bottom of the refrigerator to the
side of Lana’s head. Lana put one hand to the matted hair at her temple and
pulled it back for inspection. Her French-tipped fingernails were sticky and
pink.
Not blood. Yogurt.
Lana decided it was a sign the day could only get better.
After five failed attempts to lift herself off the floor, Lana slid her phone
out of her jacket pocket. She wavered for a moment over who to call. Her
daughter was a nurse. Could be useful. But Beth was five hours away, and
Lana wasn’t about to beg her own child for help.
She dialed the first number on her Favorites list instead.
Her assistant picked up on the first ring. “I know, I’m sorry, I’ll be in the
office at seven fifteen. Some idiot set fire to the hillside by the Getty again
and the 405 is—”
“Janie, I need you to . . .” Lana squinted up at the ceiling. Needed her to
what? Scrape her off the floor? Stop the world from spinning? “I need you
to reschedule my morning meetings.”
“But the Hacienda Lofts investors—”
“Tell them we’re adding sixty more units. Very exciting. Have to rework
the plans. Champagne for everyone.”
“But—”
“Handle it. I’ll check in later.”
Lana closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling of cool tile
against her cheek. Then she picked up her phone again and dialed 911.
Lana counted herself lucky that at fifty-seven years old this was her first
time being wheeled into a hospital. Even lying on a gurney, Lana knew she
looked worth saving. A tailored charcoal suit hugged her lithe frame. She
hadn’t yet twisted her hair into a chignon, and plum-brown waves flowed
down her back, some of them now tinted in strawberry yogurt. She held eye
contact with the nurse as he rolled her into a giant white tube, silently
directing him to do his best work.
Once she blocked out the loud clunks from the machine, Lana found the
MRI to be oddly relaxing. No emails from architects about why they
couldn’t get the drawings done in time. No calls from her friend Gloria
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