Killing Her Softly Read Online Free PDF

thrown in for good measure.
    He was a man who noticed details, had built his career on his shrewd intuition as much as his intelligence. The house told him clearly that Kendall slept here, occasionally ate here and probably had sex here, but this place wasn't her home. The woman didn't have a home anymore than Quinn did. They were, by nature and nurture, vagabond loners.
    He owned a penthouse in Houston, a vacation home in Jamaica and a time-share in Vail. But he didn't have a home. Not even the ranch he'd bought in the hill country adjoining his old friend Johnny Mack Cahill's property was really home.
    He'd never needed a home. He'd been too busy building a career and getting filthy rich to be bothered with matters as mundane and unimportant as a home. But that had been in the past. He now had everything he'd ever wanted. And more. So why did he feel so empty? And so alone?
    Kendall paused by the counter separating the state-of-the-art, stainless-steel kitchen from the great room. "I could fix us some hot tea or if you prefer, I can make you a stiff drink."
    "How about some hot tea and a couple more aspirins." He rubbed his left temple with his forefinger.
    "Hot tea and aspirins coming right up." She nodded toward the hallway opening to the right of the great room. "I have two guest bedrooms. Take your pick. They both have their own private bath."
    Quinn nodded. "I'm not picky. Not tonight. I'm just grateful you offered me a place to stay. At a time like this, a little tea and sympathy is appreciated."
    She looked at him suspiciously, as if doubtful about his sincerity. "I'll give you all the tea you want, but no sympathy."
    Quinn heaved a deep sigh, then chuckled mirthlessly. "I meant that literally, honey, not metaphorically. I didn't think you'd brought me home with you so you could have your way with me."
    She raised an eyebrow. "You've changed."
    He shrugged. "Not really. Not much. But all I want from you is a cup of tea, a couple of aspirins . . . and maybe a little genuine sympathy. I haven't been on the wrong side of the law since I was a teenager. I don't like the feel of it— being a suspect in a murder case. And even though Lulu and I weren't in a serious relationship, I did care about her."
    "As much as you can care about a woman. That's what you mean, isn't it?"
    "Did I hurt you . . . back when we—"
    Kendall laughed. "God what an ego. No, you didn't hurt me. And before you jump to any other erroneous conclusions— I have not been pining away for you all these years. It's just that I know you. Correction, I knew you."
    "I never realized how much you disliked me," Quinn said.
    "I didn't dislike you back then and I don't dislike you now," she told him. "Hell, Quinn, if I disliked you so damn much, do you think I'd have come when you called that I'd have invited you to stay here with me if—"
    She stopped midsentence as she watched him drop his overnight bag on the floor and walk toward her. When he was within a foot of her, he reached out and caressed her face with his fingertips. "It's not me, is it? It's your ex. The guy must have done a real number on you."
    Kendall sighed then turned and moved away from Quinn. With her back to him, as she reached up in a cabinet for the box of tea bags, she said "His name was Dr. Jonathan Miles. I was madly in love with him. The sex was great. His kids were holy terrors and both of them hated me. We thought that would change. It didn't. In the end he chose his kids. Can't blame him. After all, he was still in love with his wife—his dead wife—and they were her kids."
    "You're well rid of him, honey. The man didn't deserve you."
    "No, he didn't." Kendall blew out a deep breath, then filled a kettle with water and placed it on the eye of her ceramic-top range. She glanced at Quinn and offered him a weak smile. "Why don't you pick out a bedroom, freshen up and by then I'll have the tea ready. I don't figure you'll get much sleep tonight."
    He nodded, then headed down the