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Authors: Andrew Grant

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BOOK: False Positive
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Chapter
One Hundred and Thirteen

Two Months Later

Alexandra Cunningham had told Nicole that Devereaux was her father when she thought he might die, following the explosion.

On reflection, Cunningham realized this made no sense, since she'd already told her daughter that her father was dead. Fortunately, Nicole took the apparent resurrection in stride. And once the truth was out there, Cunningham didn't feel she should take it back.

Without consciously planning to, she had asked Devereaux over for dinner one night after he got out of the hospital. The evening went well, and she asked him over again one night the next week. And the next. Twice, the week after that. And so on.

Nicole seemed to like the direction things were heading, too. Devereaux appeared to be happy. He started to bring little gifts. Flowers for Cunningham. Outfits for Nicole's Barbies. Increasingly nice bottles of wine. And while Cunningham would never have admitted it to anyone else, she was starting to wonder if she'd been wrong about Devereaux eight years earlier. Whether it could have worked out with him.

Whether it could still work out…

—

Cunningham had wrapped up lessons early on purpose that day and had sent Nicole outside to play. She was looking forward to the evening. She'd overspent on a new dress from Theodora—black, short, and clingier than anything she'd worn in ten years—and she was determined to make sure the meal was extra special, too. She was trying out a new recipe she'd found in
Bon Appétit
—steak and mushrooms in tequila sauce—and was scared she'd ruin it if she rushed.

Devereaux arrived bang on time. He sat on one of the stools at the breakfast bar and they chatted about everything and nothing while Cunningham put the finishing touches to the steak. He helped to roast the corn. He set the table, tactfully arranging the Sheffield silver flatware, which Cunningham had inherited from her mother, to cover the various scratches and dents that Nicole had made while playing with her dolls. And when it was time to eat, he went and called his daughter in from the yard.

Nicole was messing around in the far corner with a handful of her favorite Barbies. She turned and smiled when she heard Devereaux's voice. Her hair was hanging in perfect ringlets. Her blue eyes sparkled. Her rainbow-striped dress was still mostly pristine.

She watched until Devereaux had gone back inside. Then she went to check on the two naughty Barbies. The pair she'd caught talking to the girl next door's new Bratz dolls after she'd specifically told them not to.

She made sure that the twine securing their arms behind their backs was good and tight. She adjusted the manacles she'd made out of heavy-duty paper clips so they pinched a little harder around their ankles. Then she took a wooden cocktail stick and jabbed it into the first doll's eye. She pulled out a nail scissors she'd taken from the bathroom and chopped off one of the second Barbie's fingers. She was about to slice off its ear as well when she heard the squeak of the screen door opening, behind her. Nicole froze, fearing it was her mother. She wouldn't understand…

“Hey! Where's my little girl?” It was Devereaux who'd appeared on the back porch. “Put those dolls down. I told you—it's time to eat.”

“OK, Daddy!” Nicole relaxed. She slipped the scissors back into her pocket and turned around, beaming. “I'm coming…”

For my parents:

Audrey and John Grant

Acknowledgments

My deepest thanks go to the following for their help, support, and encouragement while I wrote this book. Without them, it would not have been possible.

Kate Miciak, editor extraordinaire; and the whole team at Random House.

Janet Reid.

Richard Pine.

My friends, who've stood by me through the years: Dan Boucher, Carlos Camacho, Joelle Charbonneau, John Dul, Jamie Freveletti, Keir Graff, Kristy Claiborne Graves, Tana Hall, Nick Hawkins, Dermot Hollingsworth, Amanda Hurford, Richard Hurford, Jon Jordan, Ruth Jordan, Martyn James Lewis, Rebecca Makkai, Dan Malmon, Kate Hackbarth Malmon, Carrie Medders, Philippa Morgan, Erica Ruth Neubauer, Gunther Neumann, Ayo Onatade, Denise Pascoe, Wray Pascoe, Dani Patarazzi, Javier Ramirez, David Reith, Sharon Reith, Beth Renaldi, Marc Rightley, Melissa Rightley, Renee Rosen, Kelli Stanley, and Brian Wilson.

Everyone at The Globe Pub, Chicago.

Jane and Jim Grant.

Ruth Grant.

Katharine Grant, Jess Grant, and Alexander Tyska.

Gary and Stacie Gutting.

And last on the list, but first in my heart—Tasha.
Everything, always…

By Andrew Grant

Even

Die Twice

More Harm Than Good

RUN

False Positive

About
the Author

A
NDREW
G
RANT
was born in Birmingham, England. He attended the University of Sheffield, where he studied English Literature and Drama. He has run a small, independent theater company and worked in the telecommunications industry for fifteen years. Andrew is married to novelist Tasha Alexander, and the couple divides their time between Chicago and the UK.

andrewgrantbooks.com

Facebook.com/andrewgrantauthor

@Andrew_Grant

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BOOK: False Positive
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