Killing Me Softly Read Online Free PDF Page A

Kendall.
    Bryan, the son of Beth’s husband, Josh, had been Dawn’s first love. And she’d broken his heart when she’d left him behind in Vermont five years ago.
    Hell. It didn’t seem as if Beth was going to give up until she answered, and it would be rude to just yank the line out of the jack.
    Sighing, she rolled onto her side, grabbed the phone and brought it to her ear. “Hi, Beth.”
    â€œDawn. God, I thought I’d never get you. Are you all right? You don’t sound well.”
    Dawn rolled her eyes, and reached for the water glass on the nightstand, but it was empty, and the one half full of diet cola was also half full of vodka. And it was too early in the morning for vodka.
    She hadn’t needed to resort to vodka in quite a long time. But last night she’d had that feeling—that creeping, pins-and-needles-in-her-spine feeling—that told her something was coming. And that her normal bedtime dose of Ativan wasn’t going to be enough to keep it at bay this time.
    She’d thought, at the time, she’d been sensing that the dead were going to start talking to her again—asking for her help, pestering her, the way they had before she’d run away from her life and her gift and her family. And Bryan, her first love.
    Now she thought maybe all she’d been sensing was the approach of this phone call. Which was, after all, likely to be almost as unpleasant as the “gift” she’d turned her back on. “I’m fine,” she said. “Why so urgent?”
    â€œYou’ve got to come home, Dawnie. You’ve got to come home right now.”
    Dawn blinked and looked at the clock on her cluttered nightstand. It, and the framed photo of her and Bryan, arm in arm, in happy teenage puppy love, were the only two things there that really belonged. Beside those were the empty water glass, the partially ingested vodka diet, a box of tissues, an empty prescription bottleand another one that wasn’t empty, the bowl of Chinese noodles she’d had for dinner and an open package of peanut M&M’s.
    She had to shove some of the junk aside to see what time it was, and as soon as she did, she felt a lot less guilty for her reluctance to answer the phone. “It’s first thing on a Saturday. Is someone dead?”
    She was kidding, being sarcastic and snotty, and feeling totally justified in both, until Beth said, “Yes. Someone is dead.”
    Dawn sat up straight and blurted his name as everything inside her turned to ice. “Bryan—”
    â€œBryan’s…he’s fine. No. He’s not fine. His dad is with him, and he’s physically fine. At least, I think he is.”
    â€œGood God, Beth, will you just tell me who’s dead already? I’m having heart failure here!”
    â€œA girl. Her name is Bette—Bettina something or other. She was…she was murdered last night. Apparently in Bryan’s house. In his…in his bed.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œHe had a party last night. Had too much to drink. Woke up this morning to find this girl dead in his bed.”
    â€œDrugs? God, that’s going to mess up Bryan’s career big-time. Or was it…?”
    â€œShe was murdered.”
    Dawn swore in a way she’d never before done in front of either one of her mothers.
    â€œDawn, they’ve taken Bryan in for questioning. Joshjust called from the station, and he says it doesn’t look good.”
    â€œDoesn’t look good?” Dawn frowned at the phone as if it were deliberately being vague. “Doesn’t look good? As in, they actually think he did it?”
    â€œI don’t know. I guess…I guess so.”
    â€œWell, they can’t! That just doesn’t make any sense,” Dawn said. “Bry’s a cop, for crying out loud.”
    â€œYes, a cop who’s been suspended for the past month.”
    â€œWhat, still? All because he shot