The Housewife Assassin's Handbook Read Online Free PDF

day I’d gone into labor, I thought. Then he ran because he didn’t want to put the kids and me in jeopardy.
    “Unfortunately, the only evidence we have of this are his remains,” Ryan continued. “Apparently his car exploded out on the I-10, in the desert somewhere beyond Joshua Tree. A trucker who was behind him when it happened called it in immediately, about 7:15 last night.”
    “7:15? Oh my God. I had just delivered Trisha.” As I said this, I was holding her to my chest.
    And wishing that Carl were there to hold me in his arms.
    Ryan started to speak again, but closed his mouth when one of my nurses walked in with my missing overnight bag.
    “Sorry,” she said sheepishly. “It was left sometime yesterday, at the front desk. I hope you didn’t miss it too badly.”
    No, what I was missing was my husband. To now realize that he’d stopped by, had been so near, and I had missed him—
    My sobs came in waves. To Ryan’s credit, He didn’t look away.
    And I didn’t want to acknowledge the pity I saw in his eyes. So instead I rummaged through the bag, pulling out all the items I’d packed: a nightgown and robe, slippers, and layette for Trisha, and my mother’s tiny antique locket that now held a picture of Carl on one side and one of Mary and Jeff on the other.
    Then I saw it: a small, round disk emitting a faint green light that blinked on and off.
    Strange.
    I pulled it out and showed Ryan. “I don’t know what it is, but my guess is that you do.”
    “You’re right. It’s a GPS tracking device. Carl must have found it, and that’s what tipped him off that they were onto him. Then he left it for you to find, knowing that we’d eventually have this conversation, and that we could confirm with you what happened.” He wiped a bead of sweat off his face with the palm of his hand. “Too bad he hadn’t found the bomb as well. At least neither you nor the kids were with him when it happened.”
    I closed my eyes at the horrible thought of Mary and Jeff dying so violently and thanked God that they had been with Aunt Phyllis instead.
    Suddenly a strange look came over Ryan’s face. “Donna, this means that the bomb may not have been detonated by the Quorum.”
    “Then … then what set it off?”
    “Any abrupt motion might have done it. Considering that a Carrera rides so low to the ground . . . It could have been set off by a rock hitting the undercarriage.”
    “I guess it doesn’t matter how it happened. What does matter is that we’ll never see him again.”
    “It matters greatly to someone.” He eyed the bag curiously. “Did he leave anything else in there?”
    “Let me check … no, just my toiletry bag, a nightgown, and robe, a tiny Steiff polar bear that Carl brought home from his last European business trip … and my mother’s locket. Really, Ryan, it’s nothing unusual. Just the stuff we’d packed together.”
    I couldn’t help but tear up when I saw the locket. I’d worn it for good luck during Mary and Jeff’s births, and had planned to do the same for Trisha. Now that tradition was broken. 
    Carl’s death proves it.
    I put the stuffed bear beside Trisha in her perambulator. Ryan walked over and touched Trisha’s tiny hand gently, with his index finger. “Listen, Donna, it’s just possible that the Quorum doesn’t yet know that Carl is dead. If we can keep that information from them…”
    “I’m sorry, Ryan, I’m just not following you.”
    “Since, at this moment the tracker is still functioning, they may not know he found it and took it off. But I’m guessing they’ll figure that out when he doesn’t show up to the next scheduled rendezvous with his Quorum handler. But by then we’ll have stuck it on some truck headed for Mexico, and the Quorum will assume that he’s now on the lam.” Suddenly Ryan was energized. “Donna, I’d like to ask you to do us a very important favor. I’d like you to—well, to keep the fact that Carl died on the QT. For now,