Deathtrap Read Online Free PDF Page A

to decide what to do with her. “I’d be happy to drive you home.”
    She wasn’t crazy about the idea of getting into a car with a stranger.
    “Ethan Bing.” He seemed to read her thoughts. “Captain Bing, Broslin PD.”
    A cop. Of course. Now that they stood closer to each other, she could make out the Broslin PD logo on his T-shirt. She swallowed her embarrassment at having blacked out on his doorstep. “Sophie Curtis. I’d really rather walk. Some more fresh air can only help. But thanks.”
    “I’ll walk with you. Let me grab my jacket.”
    “It’s not necessary.” She wasn’t an invalid and didn’t like people treating her as such.
    But he stepped back inside anyway.
    She walked down the stairs on her own, hoping that would show him she didn’t need his help. She was halfway down the walkway by the time he caught up with her.
    He flashed her his badge—an attempt to make her feel safe, probably—then dropped it into his pocket. He held out the bag of cookies he had in his other hand. “Maybe you had a dip in blood sugar. Peanut butter chews. A cookie can never hurt.”
    Apparently, he hadn’t gotten a good look at her spreading hips in the dusk. “No, thanks.”
    But he kept holding the bag out until she took one at last. Maybe it was low blood sugar and nothing worse. And peanut butter was her new favorite since the surgery. Another piece of weirdness.
    He shoved the bag into his pocket too. “Let me know if you’d like another.”
    She hated being weak, hated that anyone had seen her like that. She would have liked him to leave her alone and go back into his house. She didn’t need a guardian.
    But he kept step with her. “Maybe you should see a doctor.”
    Her health was none of his business. She wouldn’t let her concerns show on her face, even if the fainting spell on his steps went beyond the occasional uneasiness she’d experienced over the last few months. She’d never blacked out before.
    She refused to worry about it. Worry caused stress, and stress was the enemy. “I still need to put these posters up.” She lifted her stack as they reached the sidewalk.
    He took the posters and the duct tape from her. “I’ll take care of it.”
    And what was she going to do, wrestle them back? Her mouth set in a tight line, she turned toward home. She was beginning to regret ever walking up to his house. She’d had her share of controlling people in her life. Nothing turned her off as fast as the let-me-tell-you-what’s-best-for-you personality type. Which was probably required for a police captain.
    He adjusted his long stride to her shorter one. “Lived in Broslin long?”
    None of his business. “Almost six months,” she said and didn’t elaborate.
    “I’ve lived here all my life.” He sounded pleased about it.
    The last thing she wanted to do was exchange personal information with him. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen the dog before?”
    “Not that I can remember. I’m sure people will call. When did you find him?”
    “This afternoon.”
    “Is he at your house?”
    “Outside.”
    “Not a dog person?” he guessed.
    “Not really. You?” Hope leaped.
    He must have read it on her face, because he said, “Can’t take this one. I don’t have a fence. I’m never home. And the cat would never put up with it. Mango’s got issues.”
    Mango must have been the orange cat. Sophie swallowed her disappointment as they turned the corner. She pointed at her house. “That’s me. I can make it from here.”
    He raised an eyebrow as he checked out the small nursery on her front lawn. “Planting a forest to go with your fairy cottage?”
    Her house was the smallest and oldest on the street, with some pretty fancy woodwork. It did look like an English cottage, which was why she’d been thinking about a garden in the first place. While she was drawn to Captain Bing’s stately home, her little cottage fit her perfectly.
    “Good night.” She kept walking, hoping he would turn