Main character gets charged for a murder..that she didn't commit...Camarin Grae wrote a sweries of books in the early 80's of which this is one. She is a powerful writer drawing you in to the web of the story immediately. Always exciting!
Imagine you're Lyla Bradshaw. You have lots of friends, professional success as a therapist, a wonderful partner who's warm, giving, accepting.
If the sex department of your relationship isn't much anymore, another woman you secretly meet on Wednesday nights is an exotic delight, exciting, funny, mysterious, and the sexiest woman you've ever known.
Now imagine yourself contentedly at home with your partner, when the doorbell rings. Two policemen have a warrant for your arrest on outstanding parking violations on a car you sold year ago. Of you go downtown to straighten out this stupid mess.
A woman detective talks to you. About something quite apart from the parking tickets. You, and your current car, have been identified at the execution murder of a rapist.
Preposterous, you declare. So, the detective asks, do you have an alibi for that Wednesday night? Well, yes, but no one you'll admit to if you don't have to. Then you agree to be viewed in a lineup? Sure, you confidently say.
Not one but three people pick you out of the line up, claiming you were at three different Wednesday night crime scenes involving rapists. You're under arrest, engulfed in a nightmare. Will you ever escape?
If the sex department of your relationship isn't much anymore, another woman you secretly meet on Wednesday nights is an exotic delight, exciting, funny, mysterious, and the sexiest woman you've ever known.
Now imagine yourself contentedly at home with your partner, when the doorbell rings. Two policemen have a warrant for your arrest on outstanding parking violations on a car you sold year ago. Of you go downtown to straighten out this stupid mess.
A woman detective talks to you. About something quite apart from the parking tickets. You, and your current car, have been identified at the execution murder of a rapist.
Preposterous, you declare. So, the detective asks, do you have an alibi for that Wednesday night? Well, yes, but no one you'll admit to if you don't have to. Then you agree to be viewed in a lineup? Sure, you confidently say.
Not one but three people pick you out of the line up, claiming you were at three different Wednesday night crime scenes involving rapists. You're under arrest, engulfed in a nightmare. Will you ever escape?
