Their Double Lives

by Jaime Lynn Hendricks Narrated by Emma Love

Overview

A down-on-her-luck waitress at a posh New Jersey country club, Kim Valva couldn't be living a more different life from the carefree socialites she serves. Her live-in boyfriend recently cheated on her, her social life is in shambles, and her dog needs a life-saving surgery that she can't afford. Then her luck seems to change when a mysterious figure identifying themself only as The Stranger contacts her with an offer she can't refuse: Put a pill in the new member's drink and, when he dies, she'll have enough money to fix her dog and her life.



Her target turns out to be Tony Fiore-Kim's bad boy ex-boyfriend from high school. Fifteen years have passed, and he now goes by Anthony Fuller. He's cleaned up, made tens of millions, and his gorgeous fiancée, twenty-two-year-old PJ Walsh, is on his arm.



Stunned to see Tony again, Kim can't bring herself to go through with spiking his drink. Instead, it is PJ who dies horrifically at the table just as dinner ends. Was someone else at the club-member or worker-tasked with poisoning PJ just as she had been instructed to do to Tony? Who would want both of them dead? With no one to trust and The Stranger to answer to, Kim must peel back the layers of deceit to reveal a deeply buried truth, more shocking than she could ever imagine . . .

Editorial Reviews

From the Publisher

"Hendricks is the queen of wickedly fun thrillers! This page-turner will have readers up way past their bedtimes to see just how wildly twisted things will get."— Heather Levy, Anthony-nominated author of Walking Through Needles and Hurt for Me

"Their Double Lives grabs you like a grappling hook and doesn’t let go. Packed full of baffling turns and head-snapping twists, this is Hendricks’ best yet!"— Bonnie Kistler, author of Shell Games

"A desperate woman, an indecent proposal, a double-cross that ends in murder . . . Hendricks is at the top of her game with this wickedly entertaining whodunnit. The most fun I’ve had reading a thriller in a long time. Fans of Frieda McFadden will be enthralled!"— Susan Walter, bestselling author of Good as Dead and Running Cold

"Utterly addictive and delightfully wicked, Their Double Lives is a pulse-pounding, read-in-one-sitting popcorn thriller. Jaime Lynn Hendricks flawlessly creates a world of characters you will love to hate—the privileged elite, living country club lives. When a shocking murder smashes their seemingly idyllic lives, secrets seep out, shining a delicious light on their deceit and duplicity. And you will not see the ending coming."— Bestselling author Elise Hart Kipness

"Hendricks throws open the country club doors and sucks us into the world of new-money glitz and glam. Their Double Lives is deliciously sexy, soapy fun. Nonstop drama, deceit and genuinely endearing friendships kept me locked into this twisty escapist read."— K.T. Nguyen, author of You Know What You Did

"A Jaime Lynn Hendricks book is one of my greatest pleasures in life. Their Double Lives is one of her most unique and entertaining. With multiple POVs, head-spinning twists, and a murder-for-hire gone terribly wrong, this whip smart suspense will fly off the shelves. Hendricks has a gift for creating flawed, complex characters you root for and intricate plots you never want to end. With one of the most compelling voices in crime fiction, she hooks you from page one. This is an absolutely unforgettable read."— Samantha M. Bailey, USA Today, Amazon Charts, and #1 international bestselling author of Hello, Juliet

"You’re never quite sure who’s playing who in this deliciously caustic cat-and-mouse thriller. With Their Double Lives, Jaime Lynn Hendricks expertly doles out reveal after reveal, treating readers to a twisty, layered, and emotionally resonant whodunit!"— Elizabeth McCullough Keenan & Greg Wands, international bestselling coauthors of Trust Issues

"Their Double Lives was one wild ride! Hendricks sets up a pacy dual timeline, murder-for-hire plot gone drastically wrong. Set in the backdrop of the glitz and glamour of country club lives and the drama of their waitstaff, this one is sure to shock and entertain."— Cara Reinard, Amazon best-selling author of Sweet Water and Into the Sound

"Jaime Lynn Hendricks does it again with another page-turning thriller full of masterfully done twists and pacing that will guarantee you won’t be able to put it down. Clear your schedule as this book will grab you from the first sentence."— Lyn Liao Butler, bestselling author of Someone Else's Life

"Brisk . . . Fans will enjoy each wildly implausible twist as reassuring evidence that none of this could ever happen to them."— Kirkus

Product Details

BN ID:	2940194238507
Publisher:	HighBridge Company
Publication date:	05/20/2025
Edition description:	Unabridged

Read an Excerpt

Throughout dinner, Ron, Hector, and even good-guy Ben couldn’t stop staring at PJ. Ron became somewhat shameless after his third bourbon. He sat to PJ’s left and touched her arm every time she talked. Carla kept side-eyeing her and looked like the skinless Terminator—mean, rigid, and red eyed.

Tony noticed for sure, the way his eyebrows raised quickly, the rubbing of the back of his neck, the yawn. Still, he remained patient, with his arm around the back of her chair, sneaking kisses whenever they could while Carla scoffed in their direction.

If he only knew about the trouble he was in. That he could’ve been in. He was lucky that Kim had the job, not some other random person. Did The Stranger know about her past with Tony? This couldn’t be a coincidence. She felt like such a fool. A played, stupid fool, and she’d make sure things were set right. Somehow.

Everyone at the table talked, laughed, and shared stories. Ron was a little smashed, and as he shared his expensive bottle with his guests, he knocked over a glass of wine, the stem cracking as the wine pooled on a plate. The incident came and went, and they were all back to their loud, obnoxious, masters-of-the-universe actions. They didn’t all know it, but they were swimming in shark-infested waters in the dark.

Who was going to bite first? And who were they going to bite?

It didn’t matter. Kim never put that pill into Tony’s bourbon. She never poured the liquid onto his dessert. No one was going to die tonight.

As usual, they were the last table at closing time. The club closed at ten, but Carla reveled in keeping the staff later than they had to be there. Peasants. After every dinner, Ron would grab an expensive bourbon from his private locker, and the guys would all have a glass at the bar before they left.

Kim had just dropped the individual checks at Tony’s table, the poisons still in her pocket. She’d failed at her task, and she didn’t know what the fallout for that would be. She didn’t even know who she’d been dealing with the past week—The Stranger was just that—but there was going to be hell to pay. She was sure of it. She was going to have to return the money, and Murphy’s precious life was going to be the price.

Waiting for them to sign their respective checks, Kim noticed PJ’s face go red. PJ swallowed very quickly, then her big blue eyes strained, bugged out, frightened. She screwed up her face and clutched her throat, then hit the table twice with her right hand. Hard.

“PJ?” Tony turned toward her, his brows dented. “Peej? Are you okay?”

She hit the table again. She couldn’t talk.

“Is she choking?” Ron asked, then took it upon himself to lift her and attempt the Heimlich. Kim thought it was a cheap way to cop a feel. Carla’s horrified face said the same. “She can’t be choking. There’s no food left on the table!”

Tony screamed to Ron, ripped PJ from his arms, and lightly shook her. “PJ!”

Holy shit. Her eyes were open, but she was frozen. She looked like she wanted to talk but couldn’t. Her body started to contort, like she was doing a backbend; it stayed that way as she rolled out of Tony’s grip. What was happening to her?

She couldn’t have been poisoned. PJ wasn’t the target tonight. Tony was.

“Does she have an allergy?” Emiko asked, panicked. “No. No allergies. Someone, help! Call 9-1-1!” Tony said to

no one. He pushed everything off the table. Carla skidded back in her chair, but not before some of that billion-dollar wine spilled and dripped on her couture. She made a disapproving noise—to hell with the dying woman—as Tony ripped the tablecloth off and placed it on the floor. He laid PJ down gently, stroking her head while demanding everyone give her room. He dipped the cloth napkins in the leftover water and patted her forehead. “Come on, Peej. Hang on, baby. Hang on.” There were real tears in his eyes. They were in everyone’s eyes. PJ looked like a monster, her body twisted in a way no body ever should. Horrific didn’t begin to describe it. She looked like she just crawled out of a well and then through

the television to kill everyone around her.

Except she was frozen into that shape. No crawling. No movement at all.

Everyone at that table stood and stared in shock. Dana screamed that the ambulance was on its way.

“Come on, Peej. Come on, baby,” Tony said, her limp head in his lap.

Her eyes were still open, as was her mouth, her tongue hanging out. Her head leaned to the right like dead weight. Her back still didn’t touch the ground. She was an arc. Tony’s face was close to hers as he whispered in her ear. Tears fell from his eyes, dripping down onto her face.

“Come on, Peej. Please. Someone help her, please!” He was desperate. Pounded the ground next to her. “Peej, please, baby.” Tony placed his fingers on her wrist. “She still has a pulse, but it’s weak.”

Ron approached. “Listen to her heart.” He bent down like he was going to put his face near her tits, and Tony shoved him away with his left arm and did it himself.

“Where’s the goddamn ambulance?” Tony shouted, tears staining his cheeks. “Come on, Peej.”

She made a guttural, vibrating noise. Kim recognized it; everyone in their old Italian neighborhood called it the death rattle.

By the time the ambulance arrived, there was nothing that could be done. Although she was still breathing, barely, they couldn’t even move her, like rigor mortis had already set in. She gasped for that last breath, memorializing her body into that awful shape while she was still alive.

Ten seconds later, there were no more breaths. No gasps.

It was official: PJ was dead.

And if Kim had done her job, Tony would be dead too. Someone there wanted them both dead. But who? And why?

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