Your Life Is Mine by Nathan Ripley


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Your Life Is Mine

Your Life Is Mine by Nathan Ripley
English | 2019 | Mystery/Thriller | ePUB | 3.1 Mb

Your Life Is Mine : Blanche Potter never expected to face her past again—but she can’t escape it.

Blanche, an up-and-coming filmmaker, has distanced herself in every way she can from her father, the notorious killer and cult leader, Chuck Varner. In 1996, when she was a small child, he went on a shooting spree before turning the gun on himself. Now, Blanche learns that her mother has been murdered. She returns to her childhood home, where she soon discovers there’s more to the death than police are willing to reveal. The officer who’s handling the case is holding information back, and a journalist who’s nosing around the investigation is taking an unusual interest in Blanche’s family. Blanche begins to suspect that Chuck Varner’s cult has found a new life, and that her mother’s murder was just the beginning of the cult’s next chapter. Then another killing occurs.

“Wait,” Jaya said as Chadwick and I reached the doors of the Carver. We turned and she took a picture of us, Chadwick seeing what she was doing in time to smile. Jaya walked closer to us and took a close-up of him.

“I could get my agent to send a headshot,” he said.

“I’m just making sure that you know that I know what you look like, and that the cops will, too, if I don’t get answers back to my texts to Blanche tonight, mm-hmm?”

“Jaya, it’s fine,” I said, holding the door open. The humidity sucked at the AC around me.

“Fine by me,” Chadwick said. “Caution’s smart. Everyone likes smart.”

“I wasn’t looking for your approval,” Jaya said. She pointed at the snapshot on her phone, pointed at Emil’s face, and waved goodbye to me.

We cabbed to a place called the Fela Cafe, right back in Faubourg Marigny. The street was lush, even more than most in that city. Citrus fruits of some sort on the sidewalk, thick green leaves and vines on everything. Getting out of the car, we passed two assertive-walking girls wearing bras a size down, faces scared in that uniquely touristic way that I’d learned to shed my first month in LA. One of them looked at me and half-smiled. Chadwick emphatically didn’t check them out, keeping his eyes a half-foot above their heads.

“It’s safe here,” I said to them. “Have a fun night.”

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