Little Secrets Read Online Free PDF Page A

something antique for the new dining room. Or at least something that looked antique, not another sleek but flimsy thing Sean would have to put together using one of those little wrenches that came in the box.
    Sean had made some noise about turning at least one of the bedrooms into an office, but so far anything that might someday go into such a thing as a home office was still packed up in boxes that had been distributed to other rooms. However, her laptop was plugged in and charging on the table, she knew that for sure, because earlier she’d gone online to make sure the Internet was working and to check her email. She’d never had a desk. She’d always done all of her computer work at this very table in their minuscule dining room in the townhouse.
    Investigating insurance fraud was never as exciting as most people would imagine, but there had been some occasional physical stress to it. Sometimes a stakeout, watching the man who’d claimed his back hurt too much to stack boxes do the tango with his wife in a backyard they hadn’t secured from every line of sight. Or asking that seemingly innocent young woman to help her reach something on the top shelf of the grocery store, when the woman had claimed her injuries kept her from doing her job as a retail clerk. But most of Ginny’s job was spent writing reports and making sure her facts were straight, that she had proof of the fraud that couldn’t be disputed, that all her t’s were crossed and i’s dotted. She’d spent lots of late nights bathed in the glow of the laptop, a mug of hot tea and a plate of cheese and crackers next to her if she was being good, a piece of cake or some cookies or a bowl of ice cream if she wasn’t.
    Most of those late nights, she wasn’t being good. But that was all over now, and though she let her fingers drift across the laptop’s polished-metal lid, detecting the smoother outline of the sticker she’d applied—a zombie Snow White with her hands posed to hold the Apple logo—Ginny didn’t open the lid. She didn’t check her email or surf the gossip sites or buy things she wanted but didn’t need and couldn’t really afford. She didn’t log on to her Connex account, and she had no reason any longer to snoop around figuring out what other people tried to keep hidden. She was finished with that. This was their new start, and she wasn’t going to ruin it by old habits.
    Ginny climbed the stairs in the dark, one hand on the railing to ensure she didn’t trip or fall and plummet to her sprawling, awkward death. She moved through the upstairs hall, also in the dark, found her bedroom door and crept into her bed, all without turning on the lights, all without anything jumping out at her. By the time she wiggled under the blankets and curled onto her side, the first edges of morning light were beginning to peek through the windows. When Sean’s alarm went off, she sighed, dreaming, and snuggled back down beneath the comforter, finally able to sleep.

Chapter Three
    The screams of children woke her. Ginny’s eyes flew open and she clawed out at the air, her fingertips not close enough to skim the curtains but moving them a bit in the breeze her startled motion left behind. She gasped.
    Kids playing outside, that was all. She could hear the shush-shush of feet rustling in leaves and the singsongy chant of some childhood rhyme she’d recognize when she woke up a little more, or it would drive her crazy until she could remember it. Like the night before, she was coated in sweat, her nightshirt sticking to her back. Her mouth tasted sour.
    She didn’t force herself to get up right away. She rolled onto her back for a minute or so, remembering with a bit of melancholy how once, not so long ago, she’d spent every night flat on her back with her hands crossed over her chest. Vampira, Sean sometimes called her, but that had been her favorite sleeping