A Man to Die for Read Online Free PDF

Casey. The closest Casey got to him was as amused spectator to his elaborate game-playing and the general adulation that met him wherever he went.
    The whispering about him persisted, with the rumor machine inevitably gearing up. Hunsacker was handsome and he was single, and that was more than enough to stir the hospital grapevine interest, not to mention imagination.
    All except Casey’s. She had enough on her plate without having to deal with anything new.
    “It was so nice of you to fit us into your busy schedule.”
    Flat on her back beneath the first warm sun of the year, Casey lazily lifted a hand. “I try not to forget the little people.”
    It was a Tuesday. Casey was off, and as far away from the hospital as possible. Well, as far away as she could afford at the end of her paycheck, which was her backyard five miles away.
    When she’d heard the weather forecast she’d vowed to waste her only day off this week offering obeisance to the spring sun. When she’d found out that two friends were also available on short notice, she’d decided to share her task with them.
    The sunshine was warm. Spring had returned to Webster Groves with its old Victorian homes and lush, tree-laden lawns. Fruit trees spilled petals and perfume, and bulbs exploded into bright chains of color along walks and drives. The first lawnmowers of the season droned like heavy flies. A fresh breeze rustled through the huge old oak trees that ringed the yard, and in the distance a siren that didn’t need to be answered moaned. The three women were stretched out around the pool, cool drinks in hand, romance books open, music drifting from the stereo. A day made in paradise.
    Of course, since the pool was a four-foot wader, the drinks tea, and the music rock and roll from a jam box with only one working speaker, it took a little imagination to come up with the good life. But then, if Casey hadn’t had a vivid imagination, she wouldn’t have been such a sharp trauma nurse. It was a gift she’d inherited from her mother.
    “I’m tellin’ ya, Casey,” Poppi Henderson insisted, “it’s the chance of a lifetime. I really think this is the one.”
    Casey didn’t move. “Of course it is, Poppi.” It was always the chance of a lifetime with Poppi. Casey had known her since fifth grade, and Poppi had never changed. There was always something grand and wonderful about the world, marvels just beyond our reach, mysteries to untangle for the betterment of mankind and Poppi Henderson.
    Of course, it might have made a difference that Poppi had wasted much of her misspent youth on marijuana and acid. It was bound to affect somebody’s views of the world. Especially since Poppi hadn’t completely moved on into maturity.
    “You weren’t tripping when you came up with this idea, were you?” Evelyn Peters asked from the third lawn chair.
    Poppi didn’t even bother to express denial. “Some of my best ideas come then,” she said. “And I’m tellin’ you, this one’s a natural.”
    Casey just smiled. To anyone who didn’t know her, Poppi looked just like all the other Baby Boomers who strolled the sedate, shaded lanes of Webster. A pageboy blonde with big blue eyes and a taste in Laura Ashley, she looked like she’d just stepped out of a Junior League meeting. And to make matters even more fun, the Muffles and Buffies in the decidedly upscale Republican neighborhood took her diminutive as one of their own. It didn’t seem to dawn on them that Poppi had metamorphosed from Pauline sometime around 1970 when names like that meant something completely different.
    Poppi never bothered to correct misconceptions. She was perfectly happy with her facade. Nobody looking at her would guess that she was still heavily into experimentation.
    “When do you get any work done?” Evelyn asked.
    “That’s all relative,” Poppi assured her with a languid wave of her arm from where she was sprawled in the pool.
    Taking a sip from her tea, Casey had to laugh.