What She Didn’t Know — Hurt Her
From the back:
Too Many Memories
Seeing Valda in all her lush, live beauty always disturbed me. Seeing her dead was even worse. It brought back too many memories of how wonderful she’s been in my arms.
Whoever had done this would answer to me. I’d be the jury — and the hangman. Then my glance picked up the first lead, there on the rug. It was the gun that killed Valda, a .38 just like mine. I stared at it. It was mine…
And where did I go from here?
By Owen Kampen.