Killing America's Sweetheart: A Natalie Miller Mystery Read Free

garage. Her shoulder was already aching from the weight of the backpack and her purse. Damn him! She clicked the alarm to unlock the doors but nothing happened. Did I set the alarm? She extended her hand and pulled the lever, which opened without incident. Guess not. Not that it matters here in Mayberry.
    She slid into the driver’s side and quietly closed the door. She was still fuming from their earlier argument. How could Simon be so blind? As if she had any other reason for showing up. What was with him anyhow? He should be happy someone like me is with him, in this trashy little town no less.
    Hannah was not a woman many men would kick out of bed, and yet here she was living in total small town isolation, for what? Love? No, that was too strong of a word for what they shared, but the sex (when they used to have it) was always pretty amazing and it made up for a lot of things. She could almost forgive him for moving to this God awful place.
    Hannah sighed. Now she set her mind to the task at hand, the real problem. She always knew she couldn’t trust that lying sack of shit. Who the fuck did he think he was, blackmailing her ? She spent nearly a decade crafting the perfect public image; America’s Sweetheart, which was a title she had earned. All those Broadway shows, PG movies and the carefully chosen indie parts, finally led to the role she was born to play, the one which won her the Oscar. No, she wasn’t about to let a bottom feeder like him ruin everything. She had already suffered an image blow for her latest lover, if the other secrets came out, she would be blacklisted and more than likely never recover. It was okay for a man to have secrets in Hollywood, but when a woman does, and those secrets come out, it can ruin her.
    She checked her iPhone and saw a new message.
    Don’t even think about not showing. This is your final warning!
    She threw her phone back into her purse. That little asshole was going to get exactly what he was demanding and not a penny more. She adjusted her rearview mirror and caught sight of a form in the back seat.
    “What th—,” she exclaimed.
    The black form came forward with a gun and placed it to her head.
    “You’re not worthy, you evil little bitch,” the form hissed.
    She was beyond scared, panic quickly set in. She looked at the gun and noticed what looked to be a silencer. No one will hear a thing! The moon cast light on the dark form and she recognized the person.
    “I …I know you!” she cried.
    The form laughed.
    “You have no idea who I am. But I know exactly who you are, and that’s precisely why you are going to die.”
    “Please! Please don’t hurt me. I’ll give you anything! I have money! Look inside the backpack, there’s a hundred thousand dollars in it,” she pleaded.
    The form cocked the gun and in that moment she knew it was over.
    “It would be easier if it was just about money, but it’s not. This is personal.”
    Those were the last words America’s Sweetheart would ever hear.
    CHAPTER 3
    Morning came way too soon for me. In all honesty I hadn’t slept as great as I had hoped. I ended up having an awful nightmare about a woman who was about to be murdered. It was such a strange dream because I couldn’t see who she was, because I was viewing it through her eyes. There was little I could make out since she had been inside her vehicle in the dark, but the feeling of terror and helplessness plagued me. The dream had chilled me to my bones; I was unable to get warm. I remember feeling the coolness of the gun pressed against her temple and hearing her pled with the killer, even offering money, but that wasn’t what he wanted. I say ‘he’ because I heard the voice, but never actually saw the killer. Anyhow the dream cut off right before I saw the victim or the killer. The woman was just about to look into her rearview mirror when Honey began whining for a potty break. I remember looking at my clock and it was a little past two a.m. After