Bad Girl: A Hush Money Mystery

Bad Girl: A Hush Money Mystery

by T. E. Woods

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There’s no place like home for a homicide. Midwest restaurateur Sydney Richardson finds herself chasing a prodigal daughter’s secrets in this twisty thriller.

She seemed to be the perfect woman—rich, sexy, and willing to do whatever it took to get what she wanted. Unfortunately, someone else wanted her dead. . . .

Sydney Richardson already has her hands full running two successful Madison, Wisconsin, eateries and enjoying the company of handsome blues bar owner Clay Hawthorne. She doesn’t have the time or patience for his ex’s homecoming. Two decades ago, Miranda Greer abandoned Clay with their infant child. Now she claims she wants to make amends, reconnect with her son, and settle down. None of which is to Sydney’s liking, because behind Miranda’s chic, saccharine façade, Sydney senses something very bad.

Bad quickly turns to worse when Miranda is found brutally murdered, with hard evidence pointing to Clay as the killer. Determined to clear him, Sydney launches her own investigation. But as Sydney digs into Miranda’s past, she soon runs afoul of an enigmatic corporation that’s part church, part business, and all-powerful when it comes to keeping its secrets buried—and its enemies silent.

Don’t miss any of the gripping Hush Money mysteries from T. E. Woods:
And look for the Justice series:

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780399181993
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Publication date: 03/13/2018
Series: Hush Money Mystery , #2
Sold by: Random House
Format: NOOK Book
Pages: 300
Sales rank: 184,839
File size: 1 MB

About the Author

T. E. Woods was a clinical psychologist in private practice in Madison, Wisconsin. She was the author of the Justice series (The Fixer, The Red Hot Fix, The Unforgivable Fix, Fixed in Blood, Fixed in Fear, and Dead End Fix) and the Hush Money series (Hush Money, Bad Girl, and Private Lies). She died in 2018.

Read an Excerpt

Chapter 1
January First

What the hell am I doing here?

Miranda Greer double-checked the locator app on her smartphone. Sure enough, she was at the address she’d agreed to for the meet-up.

I should have asked for an earlier time.

It was just past four o’clock. The sun sat low on the horizon, casting deep purple shadows across the snow-covered fields.

It’ll be dark soon. And here I am in the middle of a Wisconsin nowhere.

She looked back at her parked car. The rented Volvo sat isolated at the end of a long, icy lane. It dawned on her she didn’t know what kind of car he drove.

Doesn’t matter. No one will be coming down this deserted stretch of cow pasture unless they have a reason.
She didn’t like waiting. Never had. She especially didn’t like waiting for men and had sworn to herself more than twenty years ago that she’d cooled her heels killing time until Clay Hawthorne threw her some attention for the very last time.

Yet here I am. That guy says jump and I’m still willing to leap as high as pleases him.

The temperature dropped as the sky darkened. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms.

I should have worn that damned parka.

She glanced down at the high-heeled, over-the-knee, suede Manolo Blahnik boots and realized her choice of footwear was as ill-suited for the surroundings as her brocade bolero jacket.

How was I supposed to know he wanted to play in the snow? I figured cocktails. Maybe an early dinner. We’re both a little old for this.

Two large silos loomed twenty yards in front of her. Rusted walls and half-decayed roofs suggested it had been decades since they’d stored anything more valuable than bird droppings and coyote shit.

Still, the snow makes them pretty.

Memories of the Montana prairie floated to her. Mile after endless mile of wheat rippling in the summer breeze. She and Clay in that old red pickup his daddy let him drive. Off running errands. Buying tack or hay. Scouting fence lines for breaks. She didn’t care what, just as long as she was with him. Windows rolled down. Miranda with her bare feet on the dashboard. Clay with one arm bent out into the sun. Singing at the top of their lungs whatever bit of George Strait or Garth Brooks came across the radio. In the winter it was the same, except that truck flowed through an eternal sea of snow with the windows sealed tight.

And I kept my damned shoes on.

They’d had their own silo back then. She’d heard the stories since she was a child about how Old Man Franzlettler had waged his own war against the government. Refused to pay taxes or let inspectors take a look at his crops. The feds had finally stopped him from farming, but the Franzlettler kids coughed up the money for back taxes and let the land go wild. When she and Clay first stumbled into his ramshackle silo it was covered in pumpkin vines and prairie dust. But to a couple of teenagers exploring the magic of fresh-blooming love, it was heaven.

Franzlettler’s abandoned silos had become their secret place.

Is that what these Wisconsin silos are now? Are you trying to remind me of what we had all those years ago?
A smile crossed her face and for a moment she forgot the sub-zero temperature. She looked again at the silos. The snow was disturbed in front of the one to her left. Miranda took another survey of the area. A copse of thick-trunked trees stood a hundred yards north.

Are you waiting for me, Clay?

She trudged through four inches of snow to the silo with the trampled mush.

I loved you once. So very, very much. You loved me, too.

She thought about the men who had passed through her life in the years since she’d left Montana. They’d served their purpose, but none of them had ever captured the piece of her heart that had always belonged to Clay. She wasn’t foolish enough to believe he’d been celibate all these years. A man like Clay attracted women as easily as breathing in.

Is it the same for you, Clay? Is there a part of you that was always waiting for us? For our time to come again?
Her suede boots were soaked by the time she was close enough to the silo to see the fresh footsteps in the snow. Her hand recoiled from the frozen door latch. She pulled the sleeve of her jacket low enough to cover her fingers and tried again. The door rasped across frigid concrete.

“Clay?” she called out as she stepped into the dark interior. “Are you in here?”

She heard a click, magnified in the cavernous space. One heart-flutter later the familiar tempo of Chicago blues filled the air. A harmonica wailed and a guitar pounded the beat.

“If you’ve got power for a boom box, you’ve got power for a lamp.” She stepped toward the music. “Or candles. Better yet, how about a space heater?”

She felt fingers trace a line on the back of her neck and spun around to see nothing but blackness.

“It’s like that, is it? Hide and seek? That the game?”

She heard a scraping across the floor. This time behind her. To her right.

“No fair, Clay. You’ve got the lay of the land. You know where I am. Give a girl a helping hand, will you?”

The song played on. Miranda hadn’t heard it before, but it was good. Just the kind of music she’d come to realize was now Clay’s favorite. A minute later there was another chafing against the concrete. The sound came toward her. Something bumped against her left leg. Her hands reached out, feeling its shape.

“Is this for me? You want me to sit in this chair?”

There was no response. She sat anyway.

The tune ended, followed by one of her favorites. Juice Newton singing a sweet love song from Miranda’s teenage years. She let the memories of first love warm her in the dark.

“You remember,” she said.

Again, no response. Miranda listened to the tender lyrics, oblivious now to the cold.

“A light, please,” she requested when the song was finished. “I want to see you. I want to look into those gray eyes.”

A dull thud sounded overhead. She looked up. The rusted roof let in enough light from the starless sky to permit a murky vision of shadow on shadow. Something was suspended above her. It appeared to sway before it stopped. Another shadow moved, this time behind her, reaching . . . connecting to the shadow above her.

Another song pierced the air. Jarring. Loud. Ominous, head-banging roars.

A gloved hand gripped her right shoulder. Squeezed. Pinched.

“Stop!” Miranda twisted to her left, but the hand held her to her chair. Something was pulled over her head. It rested around her neck. Scratchy. Heavy. Another memory from her childhood leaped to the surface. She knew that smell.


She pushed with her legs and scrambled free of the chair. She ran forward three steps, only to be stopped by the pull against her throat. She wrapped her fingers around the rope, desperate to wedge them between it and her skin. The heavy knot dug into the back of her neck, denying her fingers any room. She spun around, kicking and punching. Grabbing at nothing but black space. She felt herself being lifted. Her legs joined her arms now, flailing at the same emptiness. Higher and higher she floated. Tighter and tighter the rope. Weaker and weaker her struggle.

Long agonizing seconds later, her body relaxed and accepted the inevitable. Her arms and legs hung limp at her sides. Her eyes closed. Her mind gave up one last thought before falling into the eternal abyss.

When did Clay start liking heavy metal?

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Bad Girl: A Hush Money Mystery 3 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 6 reviews.
Anonymous 5 months ago
I just don't like this character. She's really whiny and boring...not like the fixer character at warmth to her at all. the cop characters are unlikable as well.. overbearing, obnoxious, and not very good investigators...they just assume they know who the killer is based on who they don't want Sydney dating...yeah...he's the ridiculous. I think I'm done with this series.
Anonymous 12 months ago
1335sj More than 1 year ago
Successful restaurateur Sydney Richardson is back in the second book in the "Hush Money Series." She has recovered nicely from her last brush with trouble; she's looking forward to spending the holidays with her family and close friends in the picturesque snow-covered Madison, WI. Clay Hawthorne, her boyfriend who owns the blue club down the street from her to restaurants, are finding themselves getting closer and closer. He fits right in with her mother and her cop family; they have all accepted him into their group. Sydney battles from relationship issues as a result of being given up for adoption as an infant. She's still a bit nervous regarding their relationship. Clay's adult son, Steel who has been traveling abroad makes an appearance one night at Clay's home when Sydney was staying over. Clay raised Steel on his own, his high school sweetheart, Miranda Greer from Montana couldn't deal with having a baby or being tied down when Clay offered to marry her. She dumped the baby on Clay, and he hasn't heard from her since. Fast forward twenty years, it seems Miranda has made quite a change in her life, she's a very wealthy, polished, beautiful woman who thinks nothing of coming back to into Clay and Steel's life to claim them both. Clay want's nothing to do with Miranda her appearance still shakes him after all these years. He can't deny Steel for wanting to get to know his mother, but he also knows something isn't quite right with her, she's an entirely different woman. Sydney doesn't take this to well at all. Miranda makes no bones that she not only wants Steel but his father as well. Things get worse for the couple after Miranda's body is found in an abandoned barn out in the country after a particularly loud confrontation between her and Clay. The same detective and officers who he has gotten close too are accusing him of murder. Sydney, of course, doesn't believe he would be capable of this crime and she goes to Ann Arbor to figure out what exactly Miranda has been up to these past twenty years. I have to admit I didn't see the ending coming; it took me by surprise. I'm looking forward to reading the next installment in this series. Disclosure: I would like to the thank the publisher and NetGalley for providing me with an e-galley of this book in exchange for my honest opinion. The opinion I expressed above are my own.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Too much going back in time and too much Miranda.
Momma_Becky More than 1 year ago
This one started out with a creepy, edge of your seat scene, and I was all ready to dig in to a compelling mystery. That was chapter one. I quickly found myself disappointed from that point. Other than that first chapter, the first half of the book was drawn out and rather boring, and with the exception of a couple of characters, most weren't particularly likable. That fist half of the book is everything that happened in the couple of months leading up to the murder and while there were a few pertinent details about the victim, most things were neither particularly interesting nor relevant. The story does pick up in the second half, but it's a mish-mash of possible suspects and Sydney striding headlong into trouble. We finally do get to the conclusion and the murderer is revealed, but after the lackluster first half of the book, it was too little - too late. The ending is rather open-ended, but I don't feel enough investment in the characters to follow up with future books in the series.
Rhonda-Runner1 More than 1 year ago
I received an ARC of this book from NetGalley and the publisher in exchange for an honest review. This book hooked me from the first page and did not let up until I stayed up half of the night to finish it. It is very well written and I liked the characters. Sydney has two men interested in her, her regular boyfriend and a new detective. The boyfriend's former lover, who he has a grown son with, returns to town and things really get complicated with a great plot and lots of twists and turns. I really enjoyed this book and I highly recommend this to anyone who loves a good story that includes mystery, suspense and romance.