Novel & Cerita Murder By The Book Lauren Elliott

I grabbed Linda's head and forced her to face me as I screamed at her almost hysterically. "Tell me! How did my parents really die?!" A deafening crash sounded outside as police officers broke through the door. They approached Linda and showed their badges. "We've found evidence linking you to a murder committed many years ago. You need to come with us and cooperate with the investigation." Linda trembled so fiercely that she could not speak. Another officer approached Jenny. "Ms. Jenny Moore, the weight-loss biotechnology company registered under your name is suspected of illegally harvesting fat cells. You'll need to come with us as well."

Lauren was standing behind Curtis. She was smiling. Not pretending this time. Smiling like someone who had just won something. My eyes widened. "It's you!" I said, lifting my hand weakly and pointing at her. "You pushed me! You killed my child! You're the murderer!" Lauren's expression changed instantly. She stepped closer to Curtis, shrinking into him, making herself smaller, softer. "Tessa, please don't be mad," she said softly, her voice breaking just enough. "I won't fight you for Curtis. I'll leave now."

As the news broadcast reported a random serial killing near my residential complex, I knew—I had been reborn once again. In my first life, my husband insisted on going out in the middle of a snowstorm to buy weapons for self-defense. I locked every door and window, waiting at home, anxiety clawing at my chest. I never imagined the killer could pick locks. Before I could even react, a blade plunged into me, and I died on the couch. In my second life, I didn't hesitate. I hid in a concealed storage room, holding my breath. But the door was still pulled open. A man wearing a rabbit mask stared straight at me. "Found you," he said. In my third life, I ran to the police station. I rushed ins

"You and Soraya Karter have been proven innocent because of a lack of evidence. I am the lucky one to share the news with you." "Lack of evidence, when the librarian was found murdered in that same manner, just this morning? That doesn't make any sense," Elle protested. Dolly scowled at the girl. "Very quick to throw your disposed obsession under the bus I see," she stated, clearly referring to Ellie's crush on Daryl and How she should be defending him in a time like this. Again, I didn't like her—but she was right. "I won't see the truth and not speak about it," Elle said.

If anything, there was a faint, cruel smile hidden in her eyes. Anthony winked at her and ran over eagerly, as if asking for praise. “Ms. Laurie, you said funerals shouldn’t be so depressing. Isn’t this creative of me?” Laura walked up to the portrait. She looked at the face that had been defaced beyond recognition. She couldn’t realize at all that it was her own mother’s memorial photo. Casually, she straightened the frame before nodding in satisfaction. Her voice was calm and unhurried. “Not bad. What’s the point of having a bunch of people crying here anyway? You should light the place up and make it lively. That way, she wouldn’t have died in vain.”

Chapter One DEEP TROUBLE. Lauren's POV. Holding my cellphone with my left hand, and glancing at my reflection on the dead screen, I dabbed some concealer on my face with my other hand. Suddenly, the screen came alive. It was a call from Agnes. “Shit!” I muttered under my breath and let out a deep weighed sigh.

Luca stares at me. I grin. “I know. I laughed too. Because what’s a murderer going to do, wave at the camera?” “That won’t stop him.” “No,” I agree quietly. “It won’t.” Another beat. The bookstore hums around us—pages turning, the espresso machine hissing like it’s in on the tension. Luca steps closer, voice low. “Do you want me to pull people together?” I tilt my head. “You asking as my boss, or as the guy who once buried a body before breakfast?”

“Zhedya Hunter. You are under arrest for the murder of Steven Andrew, also known as ‘the Ghost.’” Zhedya didn’t startle. He didn’t even stand up. He simply leaned back in his massive leather chair, steepling his fingers under his chin. A slow, chilling smile touched his lips. It wasn’t a smile of fear or surprise. It was a smile of dark, profound amusement. “Is that so?” he said, his voice smooth as silk. “I’ll need to call my lawyer, of course.” Miller stepped forward, planting his hands on the expensive desk, invading Zhedya’s space.

“I’ve stalled them, but they’re voting soon!” “I’m ten minutes out!” Lauren shouted, her voice fierce. “Keep them talking, Priya! I’ve got the proof to end her!” The SUV veered again, and the driver swerved, her heart pounding, the city’s skyline looming. “Mom, guide me,” she murmured, Margaret’s diary—her rape, her betrayal—fueling her rage. Melissa’s role in Margaret’s murder, Dan’s ally, burned in her mind.

“I want to know who he owed money to. I want to know who his enemies were—I want to know his ex-girlfriends, his future wives. I want it all. He may have pissed the wrong people off.” “Yes, mam,” he said, and hurried from the room. Why would they pick this exact time to murder him? Why intermission? Were they sending some sort of message? She walked slowly in the heavily carpeted room, circling, looking at him from every possible angle. He had long, black wavy hair, and was strikingly attractive, even in death. What a waste. At that moment, a sudden noise filled the room. All the officers turned at once. They looked up, and saw that the small TV in the corner had lit up. It played footage of