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English

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Suzanne Morse's body lay almost lifeless on the bathroom floor, the cold tile soothing her battered face. She struggled to her feet, blood oozing from her nose and lips. It was to be the final spousal beating this young woman would endure as she reached into her soul for courage, independence and dignity. Cradled in the comfort of a European Jewish upbringing, Suzanne knew not of such eventual abuse. Was she being punished for some hidden wrongdoing? Now alone with young children, she would embark on a long journey to secure a place for herself in a demanding society. Finding the inner strength of her womanhood, Suzanne would become a successful entrepreneur, realizing the need to bring control into her life. Suzanne develops a prestigious chain of health and beauty spas. Her artistic flair is realized as a form of self-expression and leads her and her partner, Nancy, into an intriguing element of mystery, romance, crime and murder. She is also able to re-discover the only true love of her life from the days of her youth. Together, Suzanne and Stephen try to create their own space in a tumultuous world so that as adults they can experience the love of their lifetime.

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Adventure (Guyana)

Adventure

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Publié par	First Edition Design Publishing
Date de parution	26 août 2013
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781622873494
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0480€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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WEB OF DECEIT
Brenda Sue

First Edition Design Publishing
WEB OF DECEIT
A METAMORPHOSIS NOVEL
Brenda Sue

First Edition Design Publishing
Web Of Deceit
Copyright ©2013 Brenda Sue
ISBN 978-1622873-50-0 PAPERBACK
ISBN 978-1622873-51-7 HARDCOVER
ISBN 978-1622-873-49-4 EBOOK

LCCN 2013943560

August 2013

Published and Distributed by
First Edition Design Publishing, Inc.
P.O. Box 20217, Sarasota, FL 34276-3217
www.firsteditiondesignpublishing.com

ALL R I G H T S R E S E R V E D. No p a r t o f t h i s b oo k pub li ca t i o n m a y b e r e p r o du ce d, s t o r e d i n a r e t r i e v a l s y s t e m , o r t r a n s mit t e d i n a ny f o r m o r by a ny m e a ns ─ e l e c t r o n i c , m e c h a n i c a l , p h o t o - c o p y , r ec o r d i n g, or a ny o t h e r ─ e x ce pt b r i e f qu ot a t i o n i n r e v i e w s , w i t h o ut t h e p r i o r p e r mi ss i on o f t h e a u t h o r or publisher .
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

There are many people who I wish to thank and if I inadvertently forget
to mention them, I’m sorry.

Harvey, what can I say? You have always been my inspiration and without you the character of Stephen could never have come to life. To my girlfriend, Barbara, thank you for reading “Beyond Murder” and correcting the many spelling mistakes and the countless hours of your intent reading. You are truly patient and a blessing. Barbara’s mother, dear Catherine, who I admired, was my inspiration for Mrs. Walsh.

To my many friends and cousins who encouraged me to not give up my dream, thank you. Cousins Wayne, Bruce, Beverly; (of a shalom), Barbara, Wendy and Jordan, my life as I grew up with you will always be in my heart and soul. How can one forget their routes; Dorchester and Quincy will always remain with me.

My parents and grandparents will always be remembered with love and fondness. Thank you for giving me life, direction and insight in the old world ways and the new world.

To my children and grandchildren, I hope that what I taught you will be lessons you’ll never forget. “Treat others as you’d want them to treat you” should remain with you, always.

No story can ever be a story without my beloved animals. Simka, you’ll always be the little queen and Boston, the black kitten who wormed his way into our lives and heart.

To my new friends Dave and Debbie from First Edition, thank you for your help and encouragement.

To my fans that enjoy reading the escapades of Suzanne, Nancy and their friends; thank you for your loyalty. Without you my creativity and imagination would be left inside my being without having a way to express my desires for a better world .
Chapter One

Do not imagine that character is determined at birth. We have been given free will. Any person can become as righteous as Moses or as wicked as Jereboam. We ourselves decide whether to make ourselves learned or ignorant, compassionate or cruel, generous or miserly. No one forces us, no one decides for us, no one drags us along one path or the other; we ourselves, by our own volition choose our own way.

Maimonides, l2th century

Stoney Brook, Massachusetts • October 1991 • 5:54 a.m.

The familiar terror gripped her again. She struggled to escape as the tip of the long silver blade glinted above her in the half light. He straddled her body and, leaning downward, pressed his left arm across her chest, pinning both her shoulders to the ground. With his right arm, he lowered the tip of the stiletto downward until it touched her neck. She fought against him when a spasm of pain seized her as the point pierced her skin. A moment later Suzanne felt a warm trickle of blood oozing downward across her slender throat and into her hair splayed out on the ground beneath her.
Feigning surrender, she forced her trembling body to go limp while still beneath him. She waited for the moment when she knew he would pause to catch his breath. When he did, she mustered her strength, twisted to the right beneath him, shoved Brian out of the way with a kick, and rose to her feet.
A narrow, dark, hallway loomed ahead and enveloped her as she fled into it. Suddenly, a door opened in front of her and she was blinded by the light outside. As she pushed herself to run as fast as she could, her legs began to tremble. Then, her weak knees gave way momentarily and she stumbled.
Close behind, he needed only that slight lapse. The distance lessened between them; with one vault he sprang at her and pulled her down again. "Suzanne, Suzanne, you can't get away," he whispered close to her ear as he pressed himself down on her again. His hands closed around her throat and the wound above them widened. Blood flowed freely from her neck as the life within her began to fade.
The alarm's shrill ring brought Suzanne out of her nightmare. She had difficulty swallowing and her hands went directly to her throat, half expecting to feel the sticky blood.
Reluctantly, she sat up and reached across the foot of the bed to the bureau and pushed in the cruel white knob. Her comfortable bed enticed her to return to its warmth under the large down comforter. Pulling the covers back over her head, she let its protective refuge provide shelter. Last evening's dull headache returned with a vengeance. The throbbing returned every time she thought of the information her client, Mrs. Pearlman, had inadvertently revealed. From the disclosure, Suzanne had surmised that her ex-husband, Brian, was involved in a scheme to take the Pearlman’s family business away from them. Even if her guess was wrong, her intuition told her that no possible good could come of his dealings. Should she use the knowledge and the power she possessed to destroy him and the others involved in this racket? She could quite possibly ruin the man who was the father of her children.
Suzanne asked herself, ‘ What would happen if my daughters find out that I'm responsible for their father's downfall? Will they understand?’ Shaking her head she told herself, ‘ I could be worrying needlessly.’
Suppressing the urge to remain in bed, sheltered from life's cruel blows, Suzanne gradually lifted her body off the mattress and forced her-self to emerge from her refuge. If her suspicions were true, Brian would be in deep trouble with the law. Shaking her head, she thought, ‘ He has done many foolish things over the years, but I never thought he was capable of breaking the law.’
She wrapped her robe around her and descended the spiral staircase, oblivious to the prattle coming from the early morning talk show on the television in the family room. As she neared the bottom of the stairs, a haunting apparition of Brian appeared before her. His brazen, enticing smile, mocked her, as always. It was a ruse.
She sat at the kitchen table, poured herself a cup of hot tea and opened the morning newspaper. She tried to get involved in the current events, ignoring the queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Suzanne hoped that the thunderstorms that were forecast would wait until her plane was safely airborne and well on its way to Bermuda.
Mrs. Walsh, her housekeeper and dear friend, startled Suzanne as she suddenly entered the kitchen to begin washing dishes. Chattering incessantly about Suzanne's upcoming vacation, she advised Suzanne, "Why you chose Bermuda is a puzzle to me and to go alone without a friend - well, I just don't understand."
Suzanne tried to keep the impatience out of her voice. "I know I could have chosen a more intriguing locale, but as I told you before I have my reasons for going back there. Now, enough of this; I'm already tense enough. I hope that this tea settles my nerves. You know how much I love flying."
Mrs. Walsh wiped her hands on her apron as she turned away from the sink to look at Suzanne, lovingly, like the daughter she had become. She walked over and hugged her tenderly. "I hope you have a wonderful trip and that you accomplish what you want. It's been a long and hard fifteen years. It seems all you've done is work, work, work, since you opened your first Metamorphosis salon. My goodness, you've built so many spas all over the world now; I can't keep up with them all." With a look of remorse she continued, "I'm sorry if I upset you. Have an excellent time and I'll be here waiting for your safe return."

Logan Airport • Boston, Massachusetts • October 1991 • 11:10 a.m.

Suzanne boarded the plane early with one other first-class passenger. She settled in next to the window, removed the latest best seller from her purse and read while she waited for the remaining passengers to board. She was glad no delays were expected and the plane would take off on schedule.
As the aircraft taxied into position on the runway and the engines began to roar, Suzanne noticed the man sitting next to her clasping his hands together and digging his fingernails into his palms. Acknowledging his obvious distress, she asked, "Are you nervous? Does the noise bother you?"
"Well, I try to stay calm, but the noise is unsettling. I find it difficult to relax whenever I fly."
"Before I got used to flying, I felt that way too."
"I'm sure you realize that most accidents happen on take off or landing, though."
Suzanne continued to reassure him. "Well, you're safer here than you would be on a bus or a cab in Manhattan, you know."
"You're right, but I hate not being in control."
"I'm usually in control, too, of my business and most other aspects of my life. I like it like that! Not knowing what's going on in the cockpit drives me crazy, but I've learned to let go and let the pilot handle the job."
As the jet gained altitude, she noticed that he gradually relaxed. She breathed a little easier herself.
Suzanne looked down on the city. As the plane banked, she could identify different areas around Boston that had been the backdrop of her life. As she watched the ground diminish below, she saw the city from a strange new p