The Last Time I Saw You
The second book by Liv Constantine, author of The Last Mrs ParrishPerfect for fans of B. A. Paris, Shari Lapena and Liane MoriartyIn a world of wealth, privilege and luxury, a murderer is hiding…Dr Kate English has it all. Not only is she heiress to a large fortune, she has a gorgeous husband and daughter, a high-flying career and a beautiful mansion anyone would be jealous of.But all that is about to change. One night, Kate’s mother is found dead, murdered in her own home. And then Kate receives a message: You think you’re sad now, just wait. By the time I’m finished with you, you’ll wish you had been buried today.Evidently, all is not as it seems in Baltimore high society, and as infidelity, lies and betrayals come to light, tensions rise to boiling point. The murderer could be anyone – friend, neighbour, lover, relative. And Kate is next on their list…
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Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
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London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2019
First published in the USA in 2019 by Harper, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers
Copyright © Lynne Constantine and Valerie Constantine 2019
Cover design by Claire Ward © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2019
Cover photograph © Elise Ortiou Campion/Plain Picture
Lynne Constantine and Valerie Constantine assert the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9780008298098
Ebook Edition © May 2019 ISBN: 9780008298111
Version: 2019-04-23
TO THE TUESDAY LADIES:
Ginny
Ann
Angie
Babe
Fi
Mary
Santhe
Stella
Incomparable models of friendship and loyalty.You are greatly missed.
Contents
She screamed and tried to get up, but the room was spinning. She sat again, breathing deeply in and out, trying to focus. Was there a way to escape? Think. She rose, her legs wobbly under her. The fire was spreading now, engulfing the books and photographs. She sank down onto her hands and knees as heavy smoke filled the room. When the air became too dense with it, she pulled her shirt over her mouth, coughing as she moved across the floor toward the hall.
“Help me!” she croaked, though she knew there was no one around who would. Don’t panic, she told herself. She had to try and quiet herself, preserve her oxygen.
She couldn’t die like this. The smoke was getting so thick she couldn’t see more than a few inches in front of her. The heat of the flames was reaching out to consume her. I’m not going to make it, she thought. Her throat was raw, and her nose burned.
With every last bit of strength, she inched her way to the entrance hall. She lay therre, panting from exhaustion. Her head was fuzzy, but the cold marble floor felt good against her body, and she pressed her cheek against its cool surface. Now she could go to sleep. Her eyes closed, and she felt herself fading until everything went black.
Only days ago, Kate had been mulling over what to get her mother for Christmas. She couldn’t have known that instead of choosing a gift, she’d be picking out her casket. She sat in numb silence as the pallbearers slowly made their way to the doors of the packed church. A sudden movement made her turn, and that’s when she saw her. Blaire. She’d come. She’d actually come! Suddenly, it was as if Kate’s mother was no longer lying in that box, the victim of a brutal murder. Instead, a different image filled her head. One of her mother laughing, her golden hair whipping in the wind as she grabbed Blaire and Kate by the hand, and the three of them ran across the hot sand, into the ocean.
“Are you all right?” Simon whispered. Kate felt her husband’s hand at her elbow.
Emotion choked her when she tried to speak, so she simply nodded, wondering if he’d seen her too.
After the service, the long procession of cars seemed to take hours to reach the cemetery, and once everyone had arrived, Kate wasn’t surprised to see that the line wrapped around it. Kate, her father, and Simon took their seats as mourners filled the space around the gravesite. Despite the bright sky, a few snow flurries fluttered in the air, precursors to the wintry days that lay ahead. Behind her dark sunglasses, Kate’s eyes searched each face, assessing, questioning if the murderer might be among them. Some were strangers—or at least strangers to her—and others old friends she hadn’t seen in years. As she scanned the crowd, her eyes came to rest on a tall man and a petite, white-haired woman standing next to him. Pain spread across her chest, an invisible hand squeezing her heart. Jake’s parents. She hadn’t seen them since his funeral, which until this week had been the worst day of her life. They were stone-faced, staring straight ahead. She clenched her fists, refusing to let herself feel that pain and guilt again. But how she wished she could talk to Jake, to cry on his shoulder as he held her.
