The Cheating Wives Club: Women are dying to join!

The Cheating Wives Club: Women are dying to join!

by D. J. Jouett


Publisher D. J. Jouett

Published in Romance/Romantic Suspense, Mystery & Thrillers/Mystery, Literature & Fiction/Contemporary, Romance, Mystery & Thrillers, Literature & Fiction

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Book Description


When women in her hometown become the victims of a vicious killer, Psychiatrist Lana Reed is pulled into a world of serial killers and cheating wives.

When she begins to suspect one of her patients, Dr. Reed finds herself struggling with doctor-patient confidentiality. As women continue to die, Lana must decide between her professional reputation and helping the man she loves solve the heinous crimes.

Sexy romance. Suspense thriller.

Sample Chapter

Adam Reed, smiled as he checked the amount of his royalty payment for the month. His new, murder mystery was already in the top ten best-selling books on Amazon. He closed his laptop as his partner placed a steaming cup of hot coffee on his desk.

“Reed, Layne, in my office, now,” Captain Ames yelled from his doorway.

“We got a slice and dice in Westover Hills. Here’s the address.” Ames didn’t waste time with pleasantries.

“Good Morning to you, too, Captain,” Colten Layne, grinned at his boss.

“Did you hear me say Westover Hills, Layne,” Ames grimaced. “A quick resolution on this will allow me to keep all the Richie Riches in this town happy and my ass intact. Move it.”

“Male or female?” Reed asked.

“Woman. May be Laura Trent. Thirty-nine. Very wealthy.” Ames barked.

“Your ride or mine,” Adam asked as they strode from the office.

“I’ll drive,” Colt said. “That way you can take notes, just in case you find anything book worthy in this case.”

“Probably a domestic dispute,” Adam wrinkled his brow. “In my ten years on the force, we have had only one homicide call to Westover Hills and it was a domestic.”

“The captain will be happy if we close this one before the press grabs it,” Colt nodded.

“Laura Trent,” Adam dug into his memory, “isn’t she married to Jeb Trent. They support that orphanage in Ecuador.

“Yeah,” Colt agreed. “She was Miss Texas several years ago, first runner-up to Miss America. Her last name was London. Old family money on both her parent’s sides. Her ancestors came over on the Mayflower or something like that.”

The Trent estate sat on five perfectly manicured aces. Heavy wrought iron gates stood open to allow the authorities to come and go.

Adam examined the crime scene as Colt took information from the first officer to arrive at the home.

The dead woman was Laura Trent, the wife of second-generation oil magnate Jeb Trent. According to the housekeeper, who had found the body, Jeb Trent was in Argentina on an oil deal.

Laura Trent’s body had been propped up in bed to look like she was reading a book. She was dressed in a blue, silk gown. Her hair and makeup were perfect, as if she were expecting a visitor. The only thing out of place in the bedroom was the inordinate amount of blood that stained the downy comforter. Her throat had been sliced from ear to ear. There was a deep stab wound in her abdomen,

A red rose was tucked behind the woman’s ear. A single word had been written on her forehead with a heavy, red marker, “Cheater.”

There was no sign of struggle. From the large amount of blood, Adam could tell she had been on the bed when her throat was slashed. No murder weapon was found in the house.

Adam knew he would have to wait for the medical examiner’s report to find out if she had been molested.

Colt joined him. “I never get used to seeing a beautiful woman murdered,” he said quietly. “What a waste.”

“Anyone see anything,” Adam asked.

“Nothing,” Colt said. “Once one enters the gates, the estate is surrounded by an eight-foot fence with high hedges on both sides of it. Very private.

“Whoever was here knew the gate code. It was accessed at nine last night. The house alarm system was disarmed at the same time. The gate opened automatically at two this morning, allowing a car to leave. I am betting the TOD was between nine last night and two this morning.”

“Let’s turn CSI loose on this room.” Adam closed his notebook. “Hopefully they can lift some prints, hair or semen. A nice DNA match would be great.” He knew he was dreaming. That would be too easy.

“I demand to see my daughter,” an authoritative voice rose above the din of onlookers and police officers in front of the house.

Adam braced himself for the first encounter with the family. He always hated to tell a family member their loved one was dead. It was even harder when the victim had been as viciously murdered as Laura Trent had.

Vivian London was a beautiful, older version of her daughter. She wore old money well. Apprehension was already clouding her green eyes.

“Please,” she spoke to Adam almost as if she knew the answer to her question. “May I speak to my daughter?”

Adam took her elbow and led her to a room away from the entryway. He didn’t want her to see Laura’s body being wheeled to the coroner’s waiting van.

“Mrs. London is there someone I can call to be with you,” he asked gently.

“Why would I want…” the words died on her lips as she realized Adam was about to confirm what she already suspected.

“Laura is dead,” Adam ducked his head and repeated the words that always sounded so hollow, “I am so sorry for your loss.”

“No! No!” Vivian London’s knees buckled. Adam caught her and supported her weight until he could get her to the sofa. Tears ran down her face, leaving tracks on her makeup. “How?”

Now for the even harder part, Adam thought. “She was murdered, Mrs. London. It happened sometime last night”

“Who would want to kill Laura,” Vivian whimpered.

“I don’t know, but we will find out,” Adam said.


A broad smile broke across Adam’s face as his wife met him at the door with an ardent kiss and a glass of wine.

“According to the news, you have had the day from hell, Sergeant Reed,” she frowned as she helped him slip out of his jacket.

“It suddenly just got better,” he smiled as he pulled her into his arms for another soul-soothing kiss. The buzzing of the oven pulled them from their enjoyment of each other.

He released her and picked up both their glasses to follow her to the kitchen. “Something smells wonderful,” he said.

“Your favorite,” she smiled, “Beef Wellington. Sit at the bar so we can visit while I put the finishing touches on dinner.”

He watched her as she gracefully moved about the kitchen. She was his world. They had been married four years and he still couldn’t believe she had agreed to marry him.

Dr. Lana Reed was gorgeous by anyone’s standards. Tall and slim, with thick, black hair that danced around her shoulders, framing the most beautiful face he had ever seen. Her dark brown eyes always sparkled when she saw him. He loved her so much it hurt.

She smiled at him almost shyly as she gazed into his eyes. “You have to eat first,” she murmured against his lips. “Then mama will make it all better.”


They lay on the sofa, curled into each other. Dinner had been wonderful. What followed later had been pure magic. She always left him breathless.

“I knew Laura Trent,” she said softly, as she traced circles on his chest. “We worked together on the fund drive for the library. I can’t believe anyone would kill her. She was extremely nice. Very down to earth.”

“We have ruled out the husband,” Adam told her. “He is in Argentina. They are trying to get in touch with him. He is in some god-forsaken area where there is no cell phone service. I hope he doesn’t see it on a newscast before he is notified.”

“They seemed very much in love,” Lana said. “He was crazy about her. He was always dropping by to see to her. Much the same way you drop by to see me.”

“I feel for the poor guy,” Adam said. “If he loved her as much as I love you, he will be living in hell for the rest of his life.”


“The ME’s doing the autopsy on Laura Trent at nine,” Colt said. “Want to join me?”

“Not really,” Adam frowned, “but I know I have to.”

“I heard Doc Mercer broke up with her boyfriend,” Colt waggled his eyebrows. “I may take a shot at her. What do you think of her?”

“She’s way out of your league,” Adam teased.

“Oh! Look who is talking,” Colt laughed. “The man who married one of the top criminal psychiatrist in the county. She is so out of your league, bro. I still don’t know what she sees in you.”

Colt was teasing, of course. He knew exactly what Lana saw in his partner. At six-three, a hundred and eighty pounds, Adam was lean and muscular. The hour a day he spent in the gym honed his already perfect abs. With his thick, wavy blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, he was a man that drove women crazy. His damn dimples were just icing on the cake.

He grinned, showing them to Colt.

“Why don’t we double date,” Adam suggested. “Lana and Mercer are good friends. Mercer might even agree to go out with you just to spend time with my wife.”

“That is why I keep you for a partner,” Colt laughed. “You keep me humble.”

“Not an easy task,” Adam joked.

Both detectives dodged a rookie as he ran out the double doors of the morgue. They knew he was headed for the men’s room to throw up.

“Hey, Doc,” Colt grinned at Mercer, “We thought we’d come cut up with you.”

Mercer’s assistant snorted, trying not to laugh at Colt’s morgue humor. The doctor rolled her eyes.

Risa Mercer was one of those Swedish beauties with fathomless blue eyes and full, red lips. Although she was always very cool and professional, Adam suspected she was just as fiery and passionate as his wife was. He hoped Colt would find someone like Lana.

Mercer smiled briefly at the two detectives she and her staff referred to as Pretty and Prettier. She led them to the steel table that was now the resting place for Laura Trent.

“Obvious cause of death is the deep slice across the throat.” Mercer started in the no-nonsense voice she used to explain autopsies. “Deep stab wound to the abdomen.”

The ME pulled the sheet down Laura’s body as she showed them the damage the perp had done. “What you may not have seen is that he cut off her nipples and she was pregnant.”

Adam glanced at Colt, as an excuse to look away from the dead woman’s desecrated body.

“The little inscription on her forehead is red permanent-marker ink.” Mercer continued. “She had consensual intercourse with a male about two hours before she died. There was no semen.”

“How do you know it was a male,” Colt interrupted her dialogue. “Could have been another woman.”

“Depth of penetration,” Mercer glared at him, “Lack of abrasions on soft tissue. There are several differences between a male penis and a dildo. Even you should understand, hard and smooth, Detective Layne. There was also male pubic hair present. Unfortunately, nothing from which we could extract DNA.”

Colt shrugged, “You’re the forensic pathologist, Doc. I was just asking for my own information. It is good to know these things.”

“Because you do so many autopsies,” Mercer huffed.

Adam gave his partner a “shut up” look and asked a question. “Can you give us a time of death?”

“Between eleven and twelve-thirty,” Risa answered. “Based on the progression of digestion, I would say she had a glass of wine, sex, more wine with cheese, and then death. My guess is they had sex, imbibed and fell asleep. The killer slashed her throat while she was sleeping. She never saw it coming.”

“I am certain you are DNA testing the baby,” Adam nodded in answer to his own question.

“Yes, I will have those results this afternoon.”

“Do me a favor, please,” Adam frowned, “don’t release the DNA info on the fetus until I get a DNA sample from Jeb Trent. I want to make certain he is the father, before we release that information.”


Excerpted from "The Cheating Wives Club: Women are dying to join!" by D. J. Jouett. Copyright © 2016 by D. J. Jouett. Excerpted by permission. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher. Excerpts are provided solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
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Author Profile

D. J. Jouett

D. J. Jouett

My brother, a police sergeant, and I are very close. I have spent many hours listening to his stories about his law enforcement work and cases in which he has been involved. From serial killers to domestic violence, his adventures have always fascinated me. I have drawn heavily on his experiences to write my detective mysteries and continue to pick his brain about police procedures and activity. Many of my scenes are his stories. I enjoy exchanging communications with other authors and my readers. Thank you so much for all the feedback, wonderful words of encouragement and for buying my books.

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