I'll Take Care of You [NOOK Book]

Overview

"Rother is the next Ann Rule."--Gregg Olsen

Praise for Caitlin Rother

"A superb writer." --Los Angeles Times

"A star in the field of true crime." --The San Diego Union-Tribune

"Will keep you on the edge of your seat." --Aphrodite Jones

Nanette Johnston Packard, a sexy divorcee, liked to meet men at the gym and through personal ads. Soon after she began dating millionaire Bill...

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I'll Take Care of You

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Overview

"Rother is the next Ann Rule."--Gregg Olsen

Praise for Caitlin Rother

"A superb writer." --Los Angeles Times

"A star in the field of true crime." --The San Diego Union-Tribune

"Will keep you on the edge of your seat." --Aphrodite Jones

Nanette Johnston Packard, a sexy divorcee, liked to meet men at the gym and through personal ads. Soon after she began dating millionaire Bill McLaughlin, he moved her and her kids into his bay-front home in Newport Beach. But one man was never enough for Nanette. . .

Eric Naposki, her NFL linebacker lover, fulfilled Nanette's wilder cravings. Together they schemed to make her fiance's fortune their own. When McLaughlin was gunned down, authorities had suspicions--but no proof. Pulitzer-nominated writer Caitlin Rother explores this chilling story of a woman who seemed to have it all--until justice finally had its day.

Includes dramatic photos

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Editorial Reviews

Library Journal
03/01/2014
Rother (Dead Reckoning; Poisoned Love; Where Hope Begins) has written another "ripped from the headlines" page-turner. This is the story of narcissistic divorcée Nanette Johnston Packard, who was recently convicted along with her boyfriend, NFL linebacker Eric Naposki, of the 1994 murder of her other boyfriend (and fiancé) millionaire Bill McLaughlin. Packard was constantly on the lookout for ways to make money—usually by having someone like McLaughlin "take care of her." In fact, she and McLaughlin became an item after he answered her personal ad seeking "wealthy men only." The murder investigation went cold as the case was mostly circumstantial. Rother covers the lives (and loves) of Packard and Naposki, their trials, and jailhouse interviews with Naposki. The author never strays into salacious melodrama but does include an occasional sarcastic zinger that will amuse readers, e.g., wondering why Packard would bother to earn her GED after claiming she was high school valedictorian. Although Rother is (understandably) empathetic to the McLaughlin family, her portrayal of the McLaughlins, Packard and her family, and Naposki and his family is journalistic and thorough. VERDICT This title is sure to be popular. Purchase for public libraries with large true crime collections.—Karen Sandlin Silverman, Scarborough H.S. Lib., ME
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780786032563
  • Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corporation
  • Publication date: 1/7/2014
  • Sold by: Barnes & Noble
  • Format: eBook
  • Sales rank: 18,218
  • File size: 2 MB

Meet the Author

Caitlin Rother
Caitlin Rother

The Authors

Caitlin Rother, a Pulitzer Prize nominated investigative journalist, is the author of Poisoned Love, the true story of the Kristin Rossum murder case, and the thriller Naked Addiction. Rother has written for Cosmopolitan, the Los Angeles Times, the San Diego Union-Tribune, the Los Angeles Daily News, the Washington Post, and the Boston Globe.

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Read an Excerpt

I'LL TAKE CARE OF YOU


By Caitlin Rother

KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

Copyright © 2014 Caitlin Rother
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-7860-3255-6



CHAPTER 1

Bill McLaughlin, who had enlisted in the U.S. Marines at seventeen, right out of high school, was a health-conscious fitness fanatic who insisted on being the master of his domain.

He loved his three children unconditionally and was very affectionate with them, completely indifferent to what people might think when he exhibited his love for his son. He and Kevin made a habit of kissing, hugging, and exchanging "I love you, son," and "I love you, Dad" endearments in public. They also acted wacky together, karate-chopping at each other like Bruce Lee as they stood in line at the movies, embarrassing the rest of the family.

Bill believed in a tough-love approach to drugs, but when he ordered Kevin to go to AA meetings, he wasn't just some hard-ass overreacting to his son's recreational use of marijuana, Pacifico beer, and the occasional vodka binge. Kevin's pot-smoking habit had hurt and upset Bill even before a drunk driver going sixty-five miles per hour had struck the twenty-one-year-old as he was skateboarding home from a bar.

After Kevin was seriously injured and almost died in October 1991, Bill was understandably even more concerned. His son had spent eighteen months progressing through several rehab facilities, finally coming home to live in the quiet, gated community of Balboa Coves.

Now twenty-four, Kevin was finally able to walk on his own again, so the last thing Bill wanted was for Kevin to derail his recovery by smoking and drinking out of frustration with his disabled body and lagging communication skills. Bill was also worried that Kevin's addictive behaviors could result in a fall, triggering new injuries.

As a result, Bill forced his son to sign a contract to stop using drugs and alcohol. He also kept the refrigerator stocked with drug-testing kits. If Kevin broke the contract, Bill said, he would put him in a board-and-care home.

Kevin didn't like the restrictions, which caused tensions between them, but the pact seemed to be working. Kevin's two-pronged recovery was challenging for him and his family, who were still very close, even though time and circumstances had sent them in different directions around the globe. Bill's oldest child—his sunny and warm daughter Kim—was living in Tokyo, where she taught second grade at an international school. Jenny, the more reserved daughter, a high-school science and physics teacher, lived in nearby Laguna Niguel. And his ex-wife, Sue, had moved to their house in Hanalei, Hawaii, not long after she filed for divorce in 1990, leaving twenty-four years of marriage behind her.


Now that Bill was "retired" and had plenty of money to pay for his son's therapy, he insisted on taking care of Kevin full-time. But their home in Balboa Coves was anything but a bachelor pad.

By December 1994, Bill's fiancée, a fellow divorcee named Nanette, had been living in their two-story home for three and a half years. Most friends and family believed the couple had met "through friends," but Bill and Nanette knew the truth.

On a shelf in the master bedroom's closet, Bill kept a small chest containing several dozen greeting cards. All but one of the envelopes had no address, indicating that they'd been hand-delivered. The one at the bottom of the stack, which was kept in Bill's usual meticulous chronological order, was a handwritten card that Nanette had mailed to him at the very beginning to introduce herself, apparently after he'd answered her personal ad. She was blondish, thin, had advanced degrees, wrote business plans for a living, and worked out to stay fit, just like he did.

They were a good match. Or so he thought.

Even though his family couldn't or, perhaps, didn't want to believe that Bill would have responded to such an ad, they later learned that Nanette had placed one titled, "For Wealthy Men Only" in the February 1991 issue of Singles Connection, right around the time that she and Bill had started dating: SWF, 25, 5'5" 100#, classy, well-educated, adventurous, fun and knows how to take care of her man. Looking for an older man, 30+, who knows how to treat a woman. You take care of me and I'll take care of you.

If that was, in fact, the deal they'd struck, Bill certainly had held up his end of the bargain. He and Nanette hadn't been dating long before she moved in that August. They made a second home in Kim and Jenny's old rooms for Nanette's kids—four-year-old Lishele and six-year-old Kristofer—who often stayed over. Nanette agreed to quit her sales position, and with their new arrangement came the promise that her only job would be to take care of Bill, pay the household bills, and help him run his affairs.

Nanette, with her ambitions and entrepreneurial spirit, reminded Bill of himself. As he took the young woman under his wing, she tried to bring them even closer, asking him to reverse his vasectomy so they could have a child together and get married. Recently divorced, however, Bill wasn't eager to tie the knot again anytime soon. Instead, he gave her a ring with a sizable diamond, hoping to satisfy her for the time being, and breast implants, to boot. He told a friend that this was a "companion's" ring, which might explain why he and Nanette never had an engagement party, set a wedding date, or made any plans for a ceremony.

"He told me she was pressuring him to get married and have a child and he got her the ring to keep her [happy]," Jenny recalled.

Nanette, on the other hand, proudly told Bill's friends and family about the engagement and showed off her big rock. But what Bill didn't know was that she never wore it to the exclusive Sporting Club gym in Irvine, where she kept her slender figure in shape, met and secretly dated a series of athletic men, who were quite a bit younger than her wealthy fiancé.

Although she later contended that she and Bill had an "unspoken agreement," which allowed her to see other men as long as she didn't embarrass him, his family and friends never heard anything about it, nor did they believe it had ever existed. They all thought Bill and Nanette were happily seeing each other exclusively.

Bill's daughters never volunteered their feelings of distrust and dislike for his girlfriend, but they were honest when he questioned them directly.

"Do you think she's with me for my money?" he asked.

"Yes," they replied.


Bill had been exploring various business ventures since he'd sold the Plasmacell-C, a groundbreaking medical filtration device that separated plasma from blood, in a deal that paid him a small fortune in royalties every year. Counting his property assets, including two homes in Newport Beach, two in Las Vegas, and a condo development project with an airstrip in the desert, he was worth about $55 million. In addition to investing in real estate, he was also researching new uses for his blood filter and searching for a cancer cure, no less.

"He just loved the challenge and learning new things," Kim recalled.

Over time, Bill shared more and more with Nanette. He discussed his projects with her, and he bought her a new red Infiniti convertible. But after she rolled that car and was arrested for a DIU in 1992, she insisted on driving Bill's green Cadillac.

Bill set up a joint checking account, in which he generally kept a balance of $10,000 to $20,000, and authorized her to sign checks on it to pay the bills. He also provided for her in his living will, made her a trustee of his estate if he should die, and listed her as the beneficiary of a $1 million life insurance policy. The will gave her a year rent-free in the beachfront house he owned on Seashore Drive, as well as $150,000 in cash and the Infiniti.

Bill seemed content in his life with Nanette, whom he took on ski trips and exotic vacations—always bringing her children with them. He was just as affectionate with them as if they were his own, and his fondness for them was mutual. Nanette was constantly taking snapshots of them together as he let them steer his speedboat, cuddled with them on the couch as they watched TV, and hugged them in front of his plane, where he let them take the controls during flights to Las Vegas, to ski in Utah, or to other vacation spots.

Usually, though, Bill went alone to Vegas to conduct business, which lately had involved a protracted legal battle against a former business partner, and also buying firearms at gun shows.

Since Congress had passed the "Brady Bill" in 1993, making it more difficult to buy guns, Bill had stockpiled about one hundred of them, mostly as an investment, but also for protection. He kept a Jennings .380 under the seat of his white Mercedes, the car he drove between Balboa Coves and the airport, and a nine-millimeter Taurus in a lockbox next to his bed.

On the days Bill was out of town, Nanette usually went shopping and did as she pleased back in Newport, staying the night with the men she met at the gym when she wasn't with her kids. She also helped take care of Bill's son, Kevin, who had come a long way since he came out of the coma.


Kevin McLaughlin was extremely proud that his AA buddies had appointed him secretary of their weekly meeting, because it came with the important duty of taking notes. Because he still suffered from tremors, it took him half an hour to write a one-page letter. He'd also had to learn how to talk all over again, and speaking was a challenge he had yet to master again. His slurred speech could make him sound drunk, especially when he was tired, upset, or under stress. And although his family and his girlfriend could understand him most of the time, it was harder for strangers, especially under these circumstances.

Imagine his frustration that December night as his father lay bleeding on the kitchen floor and Kevin struggled to convey the most important message he'd ever tried to deliver.

"My father's been shot," he said to the 911 dispatcher at the Newport Beach Police Department.

"What do you need the police for, sir?" she asked, unable to make out his garbled moans. "I can't understand what you're saying."

"My dad was shot."

"Say it to me again, sir."

As he tried to convey the nature of his emergency, he felt helpless as he saw his father's life slipping away, right in front of him. However, Kevin's words were jumbled together, and because he was so upset, he was also yelling, which made it even more difficult for the dispatcher to make out his urgent, guttural tones.

"Are you hurt?" she asked. "Is there anybody out there that can talk to me? ... Is it your father or your dog? ... What's the matter with your mother?"

Although the dispatcher was able to pick out the word "gun" and realized that she needed to send paramedics, she still couldn't discern what else Kevin was trying to say.

"Do you think he shot himself?" she asked.

A second dispatcher came on the line to see if she could calm the distraught young man so they could understand him better.

"Is—is your dad breathing?"

"No," Kevin said.

But try as she might, she, too, misunderstood many of his responses. "Did he just fall over? ... Do you know what happened to him? ... Heart attack? ... Did you say 'a gun'?"

"Yeah."

"Where is the gun?"

"I don't know."

"But you think he shot himself?"

These details would all be sorted out later, but there was still the matter of the locked main gate leading into the community, which the police and paramedics couldn't open without some assistance.

"Do you know how to open the gate?" the dispatcher asked.

Although it took nearly five minutes for the dispatchers to decipher Kevin's cry for help, they were able to alert some bike patrol officers in the area, who were the first to gain entrance through the main gate and pedal over to the McLaughlin house. But by the time paramedics arrived and rolled Bill onto his back, they realized there was no point in trying to revive him. He was gone.

It was maddening for Kevin not to be able to communicate better with the dispatchers. He told his sisters that he was angry he hadn't been able to do more to help his father. However, the minutes that ticked by while he was on the phone didn't make much difference to his father's chances of survival.

The autopsy showed that any one of the six 9mm Federal Hydra-Shok bullets fired into Bill's chest could have been the fatal shot, killing him almost immediately. The hollow-point bullets, designed to tear through tissue as the tips mushroomed upon impact, had torn right through Bill's heart and upper torso. Based on the "stippling" marks on his skin—a circular pattern of dots created by firing a gun at close range—the coroner said that at least two of the bullets, presumably the last two, were fired from about two feet away. All the shots were fired from front to back, downward and to the left. Because Bill stood at nearly five feet ten inches, this indicated that the killer was probably taller than he was.

The 911 tape was tragic to hear in 1994, and even though seventeen years had passed by the time Kevin's mostly incomprehensible statements reverberated throughout a Santa Ana courtroom, they still ripped open the emotional scars in Bill's family and close friends.


After climbing over the wall into the McLaughlins' front yard, the bike patrol officers saw that the front door was wide open, and a silver key was stuck in the lock. A gold key also lay on the doormat, apparently dropped by the shooter in his haste to flee. Both keys looked new—they were shiny and had the small temporary rings that some hardware stores attach to freshly ground copies.

The police soon learned that the gold key opened a pedestrian-access gate across the cul-de-sac, which led to an asphalt path for biking, jogging, and walking. The gate was kept locked, but the spring wasn't so tight that it couldn't be accidentally left ajar or finessed to keep it propped open. On either side of the gate was a chain-link fence, topped with barbed wire, that surrounded the community. Today, that fence has been replaced by a higher and more substantial plaster wall, which is covered with a thick, prickly layer of bougainvillea.

In 1994, the jogging path wound around to a flight of stairs up to a sidewalk that took pedestrians across the four-lane Newport Boulevard Bridge and over the Newport Channel to Lido Marina Village. At the time, the Lido area had a bustling Mediterranean plaza, with a cluster of popular restaurants and nightclubs, including the Thunderbird.

The homeowners' association for Balboa Coves, which consisted of sixty-eight bayfront homes, limited the distribution of keys to residents. And even then only a few were given to each family. For security reasons, copies of the keys were supposed to be stamped "do not duplicate," and each recipient was to be recorded on a master list.


Officer Glen Garrity found an agitated Kevin McLaughlin in the kitchen. Garrity led the young man, a Brad Pitt look-alike who was wearing nothing but blue jeans, into the living room, took a preliminary statement and bagged Kevin's hands to preserve any traces of gunshot residue. While the other officers cordoned off the crime scene, Kevin got out of his chair several times in a panic, wanting to check the doors for a break-in, but Garrity kept him in that room until the detectives arrived to formally interview him.

Kevin said he heard three shots fired, although neighbors reported hearing five or six. It wasn't just his speech that was impaired by the brain injury, but his short-term memory as well.

"Is there anyone who might want to harm your father?" the police asked him.

Kevin suggested Jacob Horowitz (pseudonym), referring to the combative former business partner who had cost his father millions in delayed royalty payments and mounting legal fees as the lawsuit made its way through the courts.

Asked if there were guns in the house, Kevin directed them to the locked metal box his father kept in the master bedroom, as well as the fourteen guns and several boxes of bullets that Bill stored in the guest bedroom's closet upstairs. Because small children lived in the house, Bill stored the rest of his gun collection in Las Vegas. Kevin said that he'd fired some guns in Vegas himself about three weeks earlier, but none that day.

With no key to open the lockbox, the detectives had to pick it. Inside, they found a fully loaded nine-millimeter Taurus PT92 AFS, but it didn't smell or look as if it had been fired recently.


(Continues...)

Excerpted from I'LL TAKE CARE OF YOU by Caitlin Rother. Copyright © 2014 Caitlin Rother. Excerpted by permission of KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP..
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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Customer Reviews

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Sort by: Showing all of 6 Customer Reviews
  • Posted January 19, 2014

    more from this reviewer

     Nanette Johnson Packard, is the most insane, despicable person

     Nanette Johnson Packard, is the most insane, despicable person I think ever walked this earth. She used her children and all the men involved just to get her own way and steal their money like little pawns in her game of chess. Nanette’s involvement with Eric Naposki, let me still with wonder if he really was the shooter, or If she had another man in the pond to do her bidding. Caitlin Rother’s story beings tons of details. Her investigations and talking to so many people who were involved or knew Nanette gives you a real inside look at what the going ons are more than even the stories in the paper or conversations you have heard from the grapevine. Very scary to know she was right up close to these demented people who she had to talk and spend hours with.

    4 out of 4 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted January 16, 2014

    more from this reviewer

    It's been a long time since I've read a true crime novel, but in

    It's been a long time since I've read a true crime novel, but in the past I was a big fan of Ann Rule and Patricia Springer's books in this genre. So when I was asked to review Caitlin Rother's latest book, "I'll Take Care Of You," I was intrigued to see how the coverage of sensational crimes had evolved over the years. I was not disappointed!

    Rother takes her readers right into the heart of the cold-case investigation of the murder of California millionaire Bill McLaughlin and follows the story of the two prime (and eventual convicted) suspects, McLaughlin's girlfriend Nanette Johnston and her boyfriend Eric Naposki. As she presents the stories of the people involved in this case, Rother weaves together a tale of greed, lies, and alibis gone wrong that brings this heartbreaking case to light - a case that took over seventeen years to come to a conclusion.

    Gathering what must have been a monumental amount of documents, trial transcripts and interviewing family members, friends and professionals associated with this case, Rother presents all sides in a fascinating and riveting manner that proves why she is the up and coming queen of "true crime."

    I highly recommend this book for those who enjoy true crime and novels involving true life situations. Mystery lovers will also find this novel mesmerizing.

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted January 13, 2014

    more from this reviewer

    An indepth look a premeditated murder. Caitlin Rother has brough

    An indepth look a premeditated murder. Caitlin Rother has brought this whole sordid affair into light, from the beginning to the end.
    She explores how it took so very long to get justice for the deceased. We walk in each of the participants shoes, and some of them are not very nice.
    We follow these individuals from way before the crime is committed to a long time later, waiting for the hands of justice to fall.
    We find greed, but to a greater extent than most. We find sex used as a lure, and the killing of a man who rather saw it coming.
    What I found very ironic was Bill McLaughlin's thriftiness with his first wife, the mother of his children, down to pennies. Then answering an add from a woman who stated she wanted a wealthy man. Makes you wonder what he was thinking, and how this Vixen Nanette, got away with what she did before the murder??
    Come along and follow this trial, and crime from beginning to end, there are some great pictures. Once the book is picked up you can't wait to keep turning to the next riveting page.

    I received this book through the Author, Caitlin Rother, and was not required to give a positive review.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted January 11, 2014

    more from this reviewer

    I Also Recommend:

    Nanette Johnston Packard, a sexy divorcee, liked to meet men at

    Nanette Johnston Packard, a sexy divorcee, liked to meet men at the gym and through personal ads. Soon after she began dating millionaire Bill McLaughlin, he moved her and her kids into his bay-front home in Newport Beach. But one man was never enough for Nanette…Eric Naposki, her NFL linebacker lover, fulfilled Nanette’s wilder cravings. Together they schemed to make her fiance’s fortune their own. When McLaughlin was gunned down, authorities had suspicions – but no proof. Pulitzer-nominated writer Caitlin Rother explores this chilling story of a woman who seemed to have it all – until justice finally had its day.

    Dollycas’s Thoughts
    Rother is excellent at what she does with these stories, her book Dead Reckoning made my Best Reads of 2011 and Lost Girls was another awesome read.

    I was not familiar with this case until I picked up this book. The author starts with a Prologue that gets everyone up to speed and I appreciate this.

    Nanette Johnson Packard may not have completed high school but she was smart enough to draw several men into her web of lies. She even convinced one of them to kill for her. The scary thing is the way she lies reminds me of someone I personally know, which has me imagining the destruction this person could cause. That is what makes books like this so chilling, these are real people. People whose neighbors say they never noticed anything or there was no way that person would do that.

    Rother investigates this story so completely and writes so well at times you forget this story is not fiction. The people she brings to life on these pages are REAL!!! These things actually took place. This time it was a cold case and they almost got away with it. The author takes us in depth into the case. The science that has evolved that helped solve the case. The truth the came to light because of hours of exhaustive investigation when the case was resurrected in 2008.

    With true crime stories, you know the criminal(s), the killer(s), the outcome. Because I wasn’t familiar with this case though I was waiting for the final twist. This entire story was twisted. The lies, the deception, the greed. Thankfully the victim’s family finally received justice. But had someone not chosen to dig into this case more thoroughly the outcome could have been so different. This is family that truly suffered and deserved closure.

    I started this book and it was after 2 in the morning when I finished. I just couldn’t put it down. I highly recommend this one and anything else written by this author.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted January 10, 2014

    In her latest novel, I'll Take Care Of You, author Caitlin Rothe

    In her latest novel, I'll Take Care Of You, author Caitlin Rother takes the reader behind the scenes of a riveting true crime thriller for an in depth look at a highly publicized premeditated murder case set in Newport Beach, California.




    On December 15, 1994, multi-millionaire entrepreneur Bill McLaughlin was fatally shot in his kitchen. His killer left behind several clues: a new key stuck in the front door and another on the doormat, and six 9-millimeter bullet casings littered the floor. Suspected of committing the murder was Bill's fiancee, Nanette Johnston and her secret boyfriend Eric Naposki, an ex-NFL linebacker/nightclub bouncer. This is a story of a fatal love triangle, and a couple's lethal greed and intricate web of lies, secrets, and deceptions that took seventeen years for the justice system to prevail.




    I'll Take Care Of You is a riveting story that easily draws the reader into the story from the start, keeping them captivated as the author weaves a thoroughly intriguing and intricate recounting of a highly publicized murder case.




    The author provides the reader with a fascinating and richly detailed and in depth look into the back stories and lives of each participant; an extensive research of the investigative, legal and financial aspects of the case; and a sixteen page photo insert.




    You can't help but get drawn into the story, the intricate web of deceit by femme fatale Nanette Johnston and Eric Naposki is shocking, their ability to fly below the radar of the justice system for fifteen years is mindbogglingly, until it all came crashing down when the Orange County District Attorney's Office and the Newport Beach Police Department launched a review of the cold case and arrested them for murder in May 2009. After an extensive and determined investigation and pursuit of justice for the McLaughlin family, the reader follows a haunting tale of one woman's depth of greed and the senseless tragedy that ensued until her conviction and sentence of life in prison without the possibility of a parole in 2012.




    I'll Take Care Of You is a gripping and chilling account of murder, greed, and deception that is a must read for all true crime fans.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted July 16, 2014

    Really?

    7 pages? This started off as a good read, but is that all there is? What a rip off.

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