Stacy asked, still not quite trusting her eyes.Mandy sneered. “Because you’re nothing but a greedy, trashy whore. You slithered into this town, flashed your tits and ass, and stole everything I worked for. Everything I deserved.” “I didn’t.” The accusation didn’t make any sense. She’d had her low moments, and, yes, even broken the law on a few occasions, but she’d never resorted to thievery. Ever. Careful. Do NOT start an argument with the crazy bitch, her voice of reason counseled. Then her mouth took over. “That’s bullshit. I’ve never stolen anything in my life.” Crap. Her quiet, mousy assistant slapped her across the face. “Liar! You think I don’t know what you are?” She resisted the reflex to press her palm to her burning cheek. The slap felt and sounded odd, not quite skin-on-skin. She stared at Mandy’s hand and frowned. Her assistant wore thin latex gloves. Nausea swirled as she digested the significance of that information. No fingerprints. “W-what am I?”
