Christi Daugherty

A Beautiful Corpse


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       Copyright

      Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

      1 London Bridge Street

      London SE1 9GF

       www.harpercollins.co.uk

      First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2019

      Copyright © Christi Daugherty 2019

      Cover design by Holly Macdonald © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2019

      Cover photographs © Mark Fearon/Arcangel

      Christi Daugherty asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

      A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

      This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

      All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

      Source ISBN: 9780008238827

      Ebook Edition © March 2019 ISBN: 9780008238841

      Version: 2019-01-02

       Dedication

       For all the women whose murders end up on page six

      Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

      Copyright

      Dedication

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Chapter Sixteen

       Chapter Seventeen

       Chapter Eighteen

       Chapter Nineteen

       Chapter Twenty

       Chapter Twenty-one

       Chapter Twenty-two

       Chapter Twenty-three

       Chapter Twenty-four

       Chapter Twenty-five

       Chapter Twenty-six

       Chapter Twenty-seven

       Chapter Twenty-eight

       Chapter Twenty-nine

       Chapter Thirty

       Chapter Thirty-one

       Chapter Thirty-two

       Chapter Thirty-three

       Chapter Thirty-four

       Chapter Thirty-five

       Chapter Thirty-six

       Chapter Thirty-seven

       Chapter Thirty-eight

       Chapter Thirty-nine

       Chapter Forty

       One Week Later

       Acknowledgements

       Keep Reading …

       About the Author

       Also by Christi Daugherty

       About the Publisher

       Chapter One

      ‘Eight ball in the corner pocket.’

      Leaning over the edge of the pool table, Harper McClain stared across the long expanse of empty green felt. The cue in her hands was smooth and cool. She’d had four of Bonnie’s super-strength margaritas tonight, but her grip was steady.

      There was a delicate, transient point somewhere between too much alcohol and too little where her pool skills absolutely peaked. This was it.

      Exhaling slowly, she took the shot. The cue ball flew straight and true, slamming into the eight, sending it rolling to the pocket. There was never any question – it hit the polished wood edge of the table only lightly, and dropped like a stone.

      ‘Yes.’ Harper raised her fist. ‘Three in a row.’

      But the cue ball was still rolling.

      Lowering her hand, Harper leaned against the table.

      ‘No, no, no,’ she pleaded.

      As she watched in dismay, the scuffed white cue ball headed after the eight like a faithful hound.

      ‘Come on, cue ball,’ Bonnie cajoled from the other side of the table. ‘Mama needs a new pair of shoes.’

      Reaching the pocket lip, the ball trembled for an instant as if making up its mind and then, with a decisive clunk, disappeared into the table’s insides, taking the game with it.

      ‘At last.’ Bonnie raised her cue above her head. ‘Victory is mine.’

      Harper glared. ‘Have you been waiting all night to say that?’

      ‘Oh my God, yes.’ Bonnie was unrepentant.

      It was very late. Aside from the two of them, the Library Bar was empty. Naomi, who had worked the late shift with Bonnie, had finished wiping down the bar an hour ago and gone home.

      All the lights were on in the rambling bar, illuminating the battered books on the shelves that still covered the old walls from the days when it