It's A Wonderful Midlife Crisis (Good To The Last Death #1) - Robyn Peterman Page 0,51

and I need you to pull me back. Cool?”

Donna barked and wagged her bottom. She hopped up onto the kitchen table and pressed her fuzzy red body to mine. I couldn’t believe I was letting my dog stand on the kitchen table. However, times were weird. And weird times called for unsanitary measures.

Or something like that.

Chapter Thirteen

Getting murdered was not a good time.

The trip into John’s mind wasn’t as scary as when I went into Sam’s, but I knew what to expect. Not that I would ever be comfortable, but I was fairly sure I wasn’t dying. John, on the other hand…

The cold. The cold went all the way to my bones and tore through my body like sharp, frozen daggers made of ice. Trying to catch my breath, I gasped for air but stayed calm.

My head pounded violently and every single cell in my body screamed for oxygen. I knew it was momentary, but it still sucked.

My mind went numb and I couldn’t feel my limbs anymore.

“John,” I choked out, closing my eyes like Sam had taught me when I was inside his head. “Can you hear me?”

“I can,” a soft and kind male voice answered, sounding wildly surprised. “Daisy?”

“Yep,” I replied with a small laugh as I tried to regulate my breathing. “Show me your dog.”

“Her name is Karen,” John said with great fondness.

Pictures raced across my vision so quickly I couldn’t make them out. Again, it was like an old, static-filled black-and-white TV screen was inside my head. Catching glimpses of a smiling man and a happy dog, I relaxed.

“She’s umm…” I said, not finding the right words without sounding rude.

A black lab with partially crossed eyes sprinted around a very expensive-looking living room. She was doing zoomies—major zoomies.

“A little wild,” John agreed with a chuckle. “She’s not quite right in the head, but she’s the most loving dog around.”

“Not quite right in the head will work out fine at my house,” I assured him. “Does she get along with other dogs?”

“Absolutely,” John said. “Karen loves everyone she meets.”

I watched the images zip by of Karen licking a laughing John. Karen digging a hole in the grass. Karen knocking the trash can over and eating the garbage.

“You’ll need to secure your trash,” John said with a smile in his voice.

“Will do,” I told him, already in love with the dopey dog. “I’ll take good care of her. I promise.”

“Thank you, Daisy. Honestly, that’s all I need.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, knowing there was so much more if he chose to share it.

“Do you want proof of my murder?” he asked, his voice growing weaker with each word.

“Do you want me to have it?”

John was quiet for a bit. “Yes, I would like someone to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I didn’t kill myself.”

“I already believe you, John,” I said, feeling unsettled about what was coming. “But if you think I can help you find justice… show me.”

John began to cry. It was awful to hear. My instinct was to comfort the man, but we were not in any kind of normal reality right now. I wasn’t even sure exactly where he was… or where I was.

Without another word from John, the pictures began to flash again. This time they were not adorable and happy. There was a woman screaming and sneering at John, who held flowers and chocolates in his hand. His face went from hopeful to dejected as the woman continued to scream. The woman was his wife.

Scene after scene flashed by of John trying to please a woman who seemed to despise him. The house looked large, and I suspected John was wealthy. I wondered if that was why the woman had married John in the first place. She was a good deal younger than he was.

However, the worst was yet to come.

“John, you’re useless,” Sarina’s voice snarled. “In life and in the bedroom. If you didn’t make a good living I’d be gone. Just remember that.”

“Honey,” John said, shaking his head. “You don’t mean that.”

Her eyes narrowed and she smiled. It wasn’t pretty. “Oh, but I do.”

She left the room, and I watched John hit record on his phone. “This is probably ridiculous,” he said into the screen. “But if I need proof that she’s unstable in a court of law…”

“Drink this,” Sarina said, offering John a glass of what looked like whiskey. “I’m sorry for being such a bitch. It’s just that Cindy got a new Mercedes. I want one