End Me a Tenor Read Online Free PDF Page B

and fast as I turned onto Aunt Millie’s street. Though I could barely see the street in front of me, there was zero chance of missing Millie’s house. Astronauts on the space station couldn’t miss it. Millie was serious about three things in life: her work selling Mary Kay products, her show dogs, and decorating for the holidays. While most of her Fortune 500 executive and professional sports–playing neighbors decorated their places with tasteful white lights, Millie had opted to merge her marketing plan and the holidays. Twinkling pink lights outlined the castle-like house. A row of pink and white candy canes bright enough to land planes outlined the driveway, and tree after tree was glistening with Aunt Millie’s favorite color. Even Santa’s suit and Rudolph’s nose had been customized to go along with the theme.
    I opened the garage door, steered my blue Chevy Cobalt into Millie’s three-car garage, and cut the engine. Leaning my head against the steering wheel, I sat there for a moment as the emotions I’d been holding at bay threatened to overwhelm me. David Richard was dead. Murdered. Driving home, I’d pictured him in those final moments. Cocky. Proud. Toasting me from across the stage with the water bottle I’d knocked from his hands only a half hour before.
    Holy crap. The bottle.
    I sat up straight, and the world spun around me. David had drank from the bottle and died. The bottle I had thought was mine. If David hadn’t noticed the difference, I might not be sitting here now.
    My throat went dry, and I automatically reached in my bag for my water. Then I ditched the idea. I’d get a drink inside.
    Leaving my boots in the laundry room, I tiptoed through the dimly lit kitchen to grab a soda. The house was quiet, and I hoped that meant Aunt Millie and Aldo had already gone to bed. Talking about tonight’s events was definitely not high on my to-do list.
    “Paige,” Millie yelled, “is that you?” A minute later, she burst into the kitchen and wrapped her arms around me. At least, I thought it was my aunt. The lack of glasses and the green glop on her face made it hard to tell. When she stepped back she said, “We heard on the news about David Richard. Are you okay?”
    No. “Yeah. I’m okay.”
    “I hated the idea of you being upset and driving home in all this snow. Aldo told me not to worry, but I couldn’t help myself. He’ll be so glad to know he was right. He’s in the living room, helping me give Mary Kay opinions on some potential products.”
    While I desperately wanted to take a hot bath and burrow under the covers, I knew my aunt. If she wanted to reassure herself of my mental and physical well-being, she would go to any lengths to do it. Since I didn’t want her camping out on the toilet while I shaved my legs, I grabbed a cookie from the Christmas assortment that had arrived yesterday from Cousin Ashley and headed for the living room.
    A cheerful fire crackled in the fireplace as Bing Crosby’s voice crooned about a white Christmas. The Christmas tree’s silver and pink ornaments glistened from the corner of the room. An ever-growing stack of brightly wrapped presents was nestled under the evergreen boughs. Four dogs sat warming themselves in front of the fire. The scene would have looked like something out of a Currier & Ives holiday card if not for the fact that the dogs had glass eyes and permanent-press fur. Aunt Millie couldn’t bear the idea of burying her pets when they died. She thought taxidermy was much more dignified. Since the dogs in question were currently accessorized with pink antlers and jingle bells, I wasn’t sure the word “dignified” applied.
    Since Killer was less than fond of his taxidermied counterparts—a feeling we shared—he was nowhere in sight. That allowed me to take a seat on the couch without being growled at. Which was good; after the night I’d had, I wasn’t sure my nerves were up to dealing with canine intimidation