When the police started asking questions, Jean Taylor turned into a different woman. One who enabled her and her husband to carry on, when more bad things began to happen…
But that woman’s husband died last week. And Jean doesn’t have to be her anymore.
There’s a lot Jean hasn’t said over the years about the crime her husband was suspected of committing. She was too busy being the perfect wife, standing by her man while living with the accusing glares and the anonymous harassment.
Now there’s no reason to stay quiet. There are people who want to hear her story. They want to know what it was like living with that man. She can tell them that there were secrets. There always are in a marriage.
The truth—that’s all anyone wants. But the one lesson Jean has learned in the last few years is that she can make people believe anything…
THE BLURB LIES. I expected something interesting, something worthy of the woman in the blurb who doesn’t want to stay quiet anymore and can “make people believe anything” but it never happened. Jean is a quiet, downtrodden wife married to a controlling man, and can’t do jack shit for herself, EVEN AFTER HE’S DEAD.
You lie, blurb!
I’m angrier at the ruse than I am at the actual novel itself. While I didn’t get the page turner I expected, it wasn’t entirely bad. It just wasn’t that fantastic, either. Jean was a doormat, the reporter was cliche, the detective was a boring cliche, nothing was really exciting. The worst part was the reporter and detective sharing their thoughts on Jean being in control of herself and somehow some sort of emotional manipulator when none of that came through in the text at ALL.
I could barely get my interest up when the mystery of the missing child is sorted through at the end, and if the author was expecting anything out of me in that last bit with Jean other than a mighty eye roll, then I’m sorry. Nothing about that finale was earned by the rest of the book.