Death Benefits Read Online Free PDF

horn and bellowing some rather specific and impossible anatomical suggestions at the sluggish driver ahead of us.
    â€œBenny, I’m serious.”
    â€œSo am I. She was so impressed she gave me one of those President’s Council on Physical Fitness Awards.”
    Despite myself, I had to smile. “You?”
    Benny covered his heart and winced. “Real sensitive, Rachel. Never underestimate the erotic talents of a full-figured man.”
    â€œOh?” I was laughing.
    â€œO ye of little faith,” he said with a sigh. “They laughed at Thomas Edison, too. Well, join me on my waterbed tonight, Miss Too Busy To Be A Homecoming Queen, Miss Smarty Pants Communist, and you’ll discover just exactly why I’ve earned the rank of Tongue Ninja.”
    North of the Loyola campus, just beyond the 400 Theater, Benny turned onto my street and stopped in front of my apartment building. He left the engine idling.
    â€œGive me a raincheck, Benny-san.”
    â€œPromises, promises. Rachel, someday you’ll receive my generous offers with the enthusiasm they deserve.”
    â€œAnd someday you’ll receive the electroshock therapy you so richly deserve. Listen, Dr. Demento, thank you for that wonderful birthday party.” I gave him a kiss on the cheek. “See you tomorrow.”
    â€œHey, Rachel,” Benny said as I closed the car door.
    I leaned against the open passenger window. “What?”
    â€œYou never told me about your meeting. What did Ishmael want?”
    â€œMe. He retained me to represent the widow of the managing partner of A and W’s St. Louis office. Her husband committed suicide last month. They think she might get the runaround from the insurance company. The firm would handle it themselves except they may have a conflict of interest.”
    â€œWhat’s the conflict?”
    I gave him the short version.
    â€œFour days, huh?” Benny said. “The guy’s missing for four days? No one knows what he was doing?”
    I shrugged. “Not yet.”
    â€œThat’s weird. You going down to St. Louis tomorrow?”
    â€œProbably. I have to first call a bunch of people in St. Louis. Set up some appointments. I might drive down after work.”
    â€œSo I’ll see you at the office tomorrow.”
    â€œYep. Good night, Benny.”
    â€œGoodnight, Rachel.”
    I watched Benny drive off in his 1970 Chevy Nova. Attached to the rear window was Benny’s version of the yellow, diamond-shaped BABY ON BOARD sign. It read ENDOMORPH ON BOARD. He had designed it himself, and used it shamelessly to get preferred parking at concerts and sporting events. “Sir,” he would tell the parking attendant, “I’d be grateful for a spot near an exit. I’m an endomorph.” And then he would solemnly point to the ENDOMORPH ON BOARD sign.
    I watched until Benny’s car turned the corner, and then I walked into the foyer of my apartment building. Ozzie must have heard my key in the mailbox, because he bounded down the stairs as I stuffed the mail into my briefcase. He was waiting for me, tail wagging furiously, on the other side of the door that separated the building foyer from the hallway and stairs leading to the apartments.
    Ozzie is my golden retriever. He spends the weekdays with my downstairs neighbors/landlords, John and Linda Burns, and their two children, Katie and Ben. Linda stays home with the kids, and Ozzie keeps them company during the day. It’s a nice arrangement for all of us, especially Ozzie, who loves all the attention. Tonight I had called Linda from my office to let her know I’d be late. She had fed Ozzie, taken him for a walk, and left him sitting outside my apartment door.
    â€œHey, Oz!” I said, rubbing him behind his ear as we walked up the two flights of stairs to my apartment on the top floor of the three-flat. As I put my key in the deadbolt lock, Ozzie jumped up, placed his front