Evil Harvest Read Online Free PDF Page A

driveway.
    Faintly, in the distance, she heard a howl. Maybe just a neighborhood dog, but maybe not.
    “Let’s hurry and get upstairs,” Jill said.
    “I heard it too.”
     
     
    The two of them got out of the car; Matt went around the rear of the Cavalier and opened the trunk.
    “What’re you doing?” she said.
    “Do you mind if I change clothes? I can’t go to my aunt’s looking like this.”
    She said she didn’t mind, because he looked like he had just fought the Third World War and lost single-handedly. His T-shirt was torn and smeared with dirt; his hands were covered with dust and grime.
    After pulling his suitcase out of the rental, he slammed the trunk and followed Jill up the front steps. She produced a single key from the pocket of her running shorts, opened the door, and flicked on the foyer light. There were two doors in front of them; Jill explained that the one on the right led to the downstairs apartment, which was vacant right now.
    He followed her through the door on the left and went upstairs to her apartment.
    Jill went around and turned on the lights. There were cardboard boxes lying around, some marked BOOKS and others KITCHEN. A laundry bag with a white shirt poking out of it lay slumped in the corner of the dining room.
    “Excuse the mess. I’m still in the middle of unpacking, as if you couldn’t tell.”
    She went over to the answering machine and pressed the Play button. Matt didn’t listen to the content of the message but the woman had a shrill, nasally voice. Jill explained with a sigh, “It’s my mother calling to check up on me. “Sit down. Want a Coke or something?”
    “Coke sounds good.”
    He limped into the living room and sat on the couch, his ankle throbbing the whole time. Jill had three big oak bookcases in the living room, two flanking the fireplace and one on the wall near the door to the upstairs porch. He scanned the titles and saw a who’s who of popular fiction: Dean Koontz, Janet Evanovich, James Patterson, and a few Stephen King titles. There was also a book of poetry by Robert Frost and a collection of short stories by Edgar Allen Poe.
    “Nice collection of books,” he said, raising his voice so she could hear.
    “Surprised?” she asked from the kitchen.
    “Not really.”
    “Most guys assume because you’re a woman that all you read is Danielle Steele and Judith Krantz.”
    He heard an ice cube tray being bent and cracked. Then he heard her digging in the cupboard for something and heard it clang as she pulled it out.
    She walked into the living room carrying a tray with two cans of Coca-Cola and two glasses filled with ice. There were also two folded dishrags that looked suspiciously lumpy, and he knew she had made makeshift ice packs.
    “Be right back.” She disappeared through a hallway that ran off the dining room.
    While he waited, he surveyed the living room and noticed a picture on the mantle. It was a young Jill flanked by a man and rather dour-looking woman. The man was tall with thick chestnut hair and was handsome enough to be in the movies.
    The woman was dark-haired, with an Elmer’s glue complexion and puffy purple circles under her eyes. She looked like she’d been pretty at one time and either time or a hard life had caught up with her.
    He didn’t see a picture of a boyfriend, and that was a good thing. Jumping from city to city didn’t make for long-term relationships with women. But if he got to know Jill, who knew what could happen?
    She reappeared from the hallway, carrying a box of gauze, Band-Aids, a bowl of water and a tube of Neosporin. A washcloth completed her homemade first-aid kit.
    “Take your shoe off.”
    Matt leaned forward, untied the sneaker and pulled it off slowly. Then he pulled his sock off and rested his foot on the table. “I feel sorry for your table.”
    “Don’t worry about being embarrassed. I’m a nurse. Besides, right now I don’t smell like a peach tree either. Now off with the