Killer Chameleon Read Online Free PDF

please.”
    Hearing patience, impatience, a note of chiding, and a lot of love in those two words, I was on firm ground again. Nunna and Mrs. Kennedy would just have to get used to the idea. Janeece would be disappointed—she enjoyed playing roommates—but she’d understand.
    â€œWill you need any help?” he asked. “I’d come by, but this looks to be a late night. How much stuff do you have left to bring?”
    I hadn’t thought that far. There was no way I’d be able to carry all my clothes in one trip, but there really was no hurry. It wasn’t as if I was being kicked out of here, eviction notice in hand and marshals on my tail. Besides, I would need a farewell session with Janeece, which would involve sharing a few tears and a bottle of white Zinfandel.
    â€œThanks, hon, I can handle it. I’ll bring all I can take down to the car in one trip tonight. Someone’s bound to see me loading it, so I don’t dare leave it to come back up for more or it’ll be gone and I’ll be replacing a window, if not the whole car. There’s always tomorrow for the rest of my stuff.”
    â€œSmart move. Okay, Scarlett O’Hara.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “Hey, speaking of tomorrow, maybe you can do me a favor. Can you hang around until ten to let the cleaning lady in? She left her keys the last time she was there.”
    I had yet to adjust to the idea of a cleaning lady.
    â€œIt occurs to me,” I said, approaching the subject warily, “we won’t need her any longer. I’ll be there to do the cleaning.”
    â€œHmm. Are you sure about that? Neither one of us will be around much. And when we’re home, I don’t know about you, but housecleaning will be the last thing on my mind.”
    â€œWe can talk about it later,” I said, opting not to push for the moment. “But we should at least warn her so it won’t come as a surprise.”
    â€œWe nothing. You warn her—if you can.”
    I wondered what that meant. “Be glad to,” I said, and hoped I wouldn’t regret it. “Well, I’d better go. My supply of boxes is down in Janeece’s storage area, so I’d better get to it.”
    â€œGreat. I’ll stop and get some curry chicken from Honan’s, so if I’m super-late, nibble on something until I get there. Gotta go. I’ll see you at home.”
    At home. I hung up, feeling grounded and in control of my own fate for the first time in days. That is, until I realized just how much was involved in this spur-of-the-moment move. All the furnishings from my former apartment were already in his, waiting patiently for me to join them. The only things left to go were winter clothes. But for someone who claimed to have little interest in what I wore, I’d managed to keep enough of them to fill Janeece’s hall closet. Whether I’d have as many boxes as I’d need was open to question.
    I emptied the closet, piled the clothes onto the end of the day bed in the den, the rest on the futon in the living room, and began sorting through them leisurely. If Duck was going to be late getting home, there was no point in hurrying. I considered stopping long enough to make coffee, decided against it. I’d had coffee at lunch, so strong I could still taste it.
    I would need a separate box for shoes, one for underwear and jammies. Then there was all the miscellaneous stuff from the bathroom. Seven boxes minimum. No, eight. My bathrobe, so plush it made me resemble a big, fat Easter bunny, would require its own carton.
    Then there were the two packages Neva had signed for. I was tempted to open them but shoved temptation aside. It would be more fun to do it when Duck and I were together. I wondered who’d sent them. We’d assured everyone that we already had everything we needed and would not expect gifts. Janeece had suggested we let folks know we’d welcome