Killer Blonde Read Online Free PDF

her face puckered in annoyance.
    “What’s this?” She bent down and picked up a macadamia nut that had managed to escape our clutches.
    SueEllen eyed Heidi coolly.
    “Is this yours?” she asked, holding out the offending nut.
    Heidi looked down at the carpet, saying nothing. What a nice kid, I thought. Clearly, she didn’t want to get me in trouble.
    “How many times have I told you?” Sue Ellen said, tapping her foot in annoyance. “No Between-Meal Snacks!”
    “Actually,” I piped up. “It’s mine.”
    “It is?” SueEllen looked almost disappointed, as if she’d been looking forward to ragging on Heidi, and I’d robbed her of the opportunity.
    “Well, technically,” I said, “it’s yours. I found a jar of nuts in your wet bar. I’m sorry I opened it without asking, but I was awfully hungry.”
    “You were?” she asked, amazed that anyone could possibly be hungry after the elaborate 10-calorie lunch she’d served.
    “Oh, well,” she said. “No matter. Let’s go satisfy that appetite of yours, shall we, Porky?”
    Okay, so she didn’t really call me Porky, but I knew that’s what she was thinking.
    And as we followed SueEllen out the door, Heidi turned to me and smiled. I smiled back, happy that there was at least one person in the Kingsley clan that I could relate to.
     

    Hal Kingsley was an older version of Brad—tall and craggy with wavy hair graying at the temples, a Marlboro Man who’d gone to med school. He sat at the head of the huge mahogany dining table, nursing a martini, silent and distant, like a guest who didn’t know the other people at the table very well.
    SueEllen was at the foot of the table, barking orders to Conchi. Heidi and Brad sat across from me, looking like they’d sell their souls for an In ‘N Out Burger.
    Conchi scurried around with our salad plates, eyes downcast, her dark hair falling forward on her face like a curtain she was trying to hide behind. The salad was endive and watercress in a raspberry vinaigrette dressing. It was about as filling as a piece of dental floss.
    The beef bourguignon on the other hand, looked spectacular. Generous chunks of meat in a lovely brown potato-and-carrot studded sauce. Conchi came out of the kitchen with two heaping platefuls, and my salivary glands sprung into action.
    Unfortunately, the heaping plates went to Hal and Brad. Heidi, SueEllen and I got portions the size of rice cakes. Heidi and I snarfed ours down with lightning speed; I practically scraped the design off my plate trying to finish every last drop. Once again, SueEllen nibbled at her food. It was all I could do to keep from grabbing one of her potatoes.
    Needless to say, nobody asked me if I wanted seconds.
    What’s worse, SueEllen actually expected me to be taking notes. That’s right. SueEllen wanted it to be a “working dinner.” While everybody ate, she picked up where she left off in the bathtub, in the saga of SueEllen.
    “I’ll just give you the broad strokes now,” she said, spearing a particle of carrot. “We’ll fill in the details later.”
    And so she was off and running, dominating the conversation with a non-stop commentary about how she left the South and moved to L.A. and became a model, and later a game show hostess, until she finally hit the jackpot and became Mrs. Hal Kingsley. When she came to the part about her job as a game show hostess, she demonstrated how she used to point out the contestants’ prizes, by making a flamboyant “L” with her arms. Left arm up in the air, right arm pointing to the imaginary prize. I only hoped she didn’t expect me to write about Game Show Hostess Positions in the book.
    When everyone else had finished their beef and their eyes were glazed over with boredom, Hal piped up.
    “SueEllen, honey, you haven’t touched your dinner.”
    Indeed she hadn’t. Her dollop-sized portion was still sitting there in the middle of her plate. Reluctantly, she shut up and started eating.
    Brad took