Home Improvement: Undead Edition Read Online Free PDF

the view.
    Sam’s doleful bloodhound face swung toward me, and he pawed at the ground at his feet. “Awwwrrrrhr,” he said.
    I got the shovel from the tool shed. This was not going to be pretty. I was trickling with sweat after the first few shovelfuls, and I was maybe a little peeved that Quiana didn’t ask to take a turn digging. She looked down into the gradually increasing hole with an unnerving and unswerving fascination.
    I looked at Sam, who was licking one of his paws. “You better go inside and change back,” I said. “Thanks, Sam.” He started ambling toward the steps and paused, stymied. I pitched a shovelful of dirt at Quiana’s feet. “Quiana,” I said sharply, “You need to open the back door for him.”
    It was like I’d stuck a pin in her, she looked so startled. “Sure,” she said. “Sure, I’ll do it.”
    I watched her go over to the door, and it seemed to me she stumbled a little, was a bit shaky on her feet. Her mind was blurry, foggy, with strong impressions coming from God knows where. After Sam was in the house, I resumed digging. The faster I went, the sooner we’d know if Sam had found an old turkey carcass or human remains.
    After another five minutes I had to pause. Quiana had returned to her place at the edge of the hole. Her stance was rigid and her eyes were fixed on the upturned earth.
    I heard a couple of slamming car doors. JB and Tara had returned. I felt a surprising amount of relief.
    I was leaning on my shovel when they all came into the backyard—all the adults, that is. The twins were still sleeping. Sam had resumed his human form, and he was in his cutoff jeans again. His Hawaiian shirt looked cool with its loose drape around his torso. I envied him. My tank top felt wet and clingy.
    JB and Tara were still wearing their workout clothes, so they were as sweaty as I was, but they both looked more relaxed.
    “So, there something in there?” Tara asked, peering down at the hole I’d made.
    “Sam thinks so,” I replied. “JB, you want to shovel for a while?”
    “Sure, Sook,” he said amiably, and he grabbed the shovel. I sank to my haunches and watched him work.
    Sam squatted by me. He never wavered in his expectant posture.
    And with a terrible predictability, the shovel hit something that scraped instead of crunched. Without being told, JB started to scratch at the dirt with the shovel blade instead of sinking it in.
    We didn’t need the monitor to hear the babies begin to wail.
    Quiana tore herself away to go in to them. Tara seemed relieved to leave it to her.
    JB uncovered a femur.
    We regarded the bone in silence.
    “Well, we got us a body,” Sam said. “Now we need to know who it belonged to.”
    “How are we gonna explain what we were doing?” Tara asked.
    “We could say you were going to plant some beans,” I said. “I know it’s late for beans, but a cop would believe that.” I left unspoken the fact that Andy would believe that if we said it was JB’s idea. “We can say we were digging the holes for the runner poles.”
    “So they’ll come get the bones out, and then what? Will things get better in our house?” Tara’s eyes were bright with anger. “Will we stop being miserable? What about the babies? I think we have to find out who this guy was.”
    “It’s not Isaiah Wechsler, and we know Albert lived, and we know Carter was sent away after the murder. So who could this be?” I looked around, hoping someone would look as though he had had a revelation, but everyone looked blank.
    JB, shovel in hand, was standing by the crouching Sam. They were silently regarding the hole that was a grave. Sam was scowling.
    “Tara, we can’t ignore this,” I said, as gently as I could. I was fighting a rising wave of irritation.
    “I know that,” she snapped. “I never said we could, Sookie. But I got to figure out what’s best for me and my family.”
    Quiana had been gone a handful of minutes by now. I could still hear the babies crying.