Fidelity Investigations 3-book Bundle

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ "There are twists, turns, laughs and a great cozy mystery to cuddle up to."

When she’s dumped at forty, for a woman almost young enough to be her daughter, what’s a jilted trophy-wife to do? Why, get her PI license, of course, and put cheating spouses – like her husband – off their game!

💕 They say the wife is always the last to know, and I guess it must be true, because until David told me he’d found someone else and was leaving me, I had no idea he had even thought about straying.

By then, it had gone way beyond thinking about it. Her name was Jackie—I found out later that it wasn’t just Jackie, it was Jacquie with a q—and she made him feel young again. Not surprising, when Jackie-with-a-q was younger than his children. 

He had two, both of them with his first wife.

I was his second, acquired when Sandra started to show signs of wear and tear. She was pushing thirty-five by then, and had carried and birthed two little monsters, so it stood to reason she wouldn’t look as dewy fresh as she had when he married her.

That didn’t stop David from dumping her for another nubile twenty-two year old: me.

At that point Krystal was eleven and her little brother Kenny eight. They went to live with Sandra, and I had to deal with them only on the rare weekends when David had visitation rights. They didn’t like me and I’m not sure they liked David much, either. No big surprise there, when he had left their mother for me.

David and I didn’t have any children. He didn’t want any, and since he didn’t, I didn’t either. In retrospect I may have regretted that, but at the time it seemed like a logical choice. Besides, my experiences with Krystal and Kenny didn’t exactly inspire confidence in my abilities as a mother. And it meant I kept my figure and didn’t grow old before my time. When I passed thirty and then thirty-five without being traded in for a younger model, I breathed a silent sigh of relief. I guess I may have become a little too complacent, because it was only a few months past my fortieth birthday when David came and told me it wasn’t working out and he wanted a divorce.

“I see,” I said, as the bottom fell out of the world.

He arched a brow. He’d always had that ability, and when I was younger, I thought it was sexy. Now I found it conceited. “That’s all you have to say?”

Well, no. I could have said a lot more. But I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of hearing me rant. Or worse, beg. “What’s her name?”

David flushed, as if I’d put him on the spot. As if he’d really thought I wouldn’t realize what was going on. “Gina...”

“Oh, give me a break! You did it to Sandra; it was only a matter of time before you did it to me. I should have known something was up as soon as you brought home the Porsche.”

He’d bought it for himself a few months ago: the classic middle-aged phallic substitute, a screaming red convertible sports car.

But no, instead of seeing the car as what it was, the writing on the wall, I’d chalked it up to midlife crisis—he’d be turning fifty-three soon—and an effort to recapture his youth.

Duh.

“Jackie,” David said. “With a q.”

Of course. “And how old is she?”

David announced, with barely concealed pride, that she was twenty-five.

Three whole years older than I’d been when he married me. While he’d aged eighteen years since then. By now, he was more than old enough to be Jacquie’s father.

“She wants you for your money,” I said.

“We’re in love,” David answered stiffly.

Of course they were. Jackie-with-a-q was in love with David’s position and bank account, while David was in love with her twenty-five-year-old body and her no doubt oft-expressed adoration.

And why wouldn’t she adore him? He was rich, handsome, and crazy about her. Crazy enough to be willing to divorce his wife of eighteen years.

But there is none so blind as they who will not see, and I knew it wouldn’t do any good to argue. So I told him I understood, that of course he could have a divorce if that’s what he wanted, and as soon as the door closed behind him, I was on the phone with the best (female) divorce lawyer in Nashville.

The papers were filed the next day, including the petition for 50% of the marital assets plus a few grand a month in alimony. Tennessee is an equitable distribution state—meaning the actual division of assets would be decided by the court—but we made a good case for why eighteen years of marriage, during which David’s business grew by leaps and bounds, entitled me to half of what he owned. And since he’d married me before I could finish college, and he had insisted I didn’t have to work, I had no way of supporting myself apart from his income.

I stayed in the house in Hillwood while David had bought a penthouse in downtown for himself. Jackie-with-a-q didn’t move in; I guess David’s own divorce attorney (male) advised him that it wouldn’t look good. He didn’t stop seeing her, though. She lived in midtown, and he’d go there every night.

Yes, I followed him. So sue me: I wanted to see the woman he’d left me for...

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️  "A terrific mystery with strong characters."

Bundle includes the following books: ✅ Ditching David ✅ Stalking Steven ✅ Haunting Harold

 

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