Scared Stiff Read Online Free PDF

sizes tend to range from not-so-fat, to Rubenesque, to Hindenburg. Apparently Shannon has had similar struggles with her weight, though on a much smaller scale . . . in every sense of the word.
    I leave the closet and head for the dressers, taking care when I open the drawers in case there might be valuable fingerprint evidence there. One drawer is filled with pieces of sexy lingerie, some with the price tags still attached. No doubt these are for the new boyfriend. I did a similar upgrade myself a few weeks ago. It was easy to embrace the comfort of plain cotton, stretched-out elastic, and flannel granny gowns when I was seven years into my marriage, but now that I’ve been thrust back into the singles market, I need better window dressing.
    Next I move to the bedside stands. The one on the right is empty and I guess that’s the side of the bed that used to be Erik’s. The bottom drawer of the stand on the left holds some body lotions and a night mask, but the top drawer is crammed full of letters. A quick sampling shows me that most of them are from Erik and bear postmarks dating back no more than three months ago.
    I grab one of the envelopes and carefully remove the letter inside. It’s a single sheet of paper with a tidy scrawl on it, two paragraphs of writing. A quick scan of the contents reveals that Erik was utterly blindsided by Shannon’s request for a separation and still very much in love with her. His note pleads with her to reconsider and not waste all the years they’ve spent together and reminds her of how happy they’d once been. The next to the last sentence reads: “Remember the vows we took ten years ago.” The closing is sweet and desperate in its simplicity, but also chilling given the night’s events: “’Til death do us part. Love, Erik.”
    “What are you doing?”
    The sound of Hurley’s voice behind me makes me jump. I spin around, knowing I look guilty but trying not to. “I was curious about Shannon’s life and thought I might find something in here that could offer up some clues.”
    “And did you?”
    “Maybe.” I’m none too eager to show the letter to Hurley, knowing it will only convince him more of Erik’s guilt. But I have no choice so I hand it over. He reads it, looks at the stack still in the drawer, and says, “Interesting. Did you read any of the others?”
    I shake my head. He looks at me with his eyes narrowed and I’m expecting him to chastise me for snooping but he surprises me by instead asking, “So what’s your take on Erik? Do you think he did it?”
    I want to blurt out an immediate denial but hold it back. “I don’t know,” I say finally, truthfully. “But I’m leaning toward no.”
    “Why is that?”
    “He just doesn’t strike me as the type. He’s always been a very sweet, kind, gentle guy.”
    Hurley considers this a moment, then nods. “I guess we’ll see.”
    “You think he’s guilty.”
    “I’m leaning that way.”
    “Why?”
    He shrugs. “Just a gut feeling.”
    “But you’re not sure.”
    “Not yet.”
    “You’ll keep an open mind?”
    He looks miffed. “I always follow the evidence. Let’s see what it turns up.” He moves closer to the stand and scoops up all the letters from the drawer. Then he turns to me and says, “In order to follow the evidence, we have to collect it.” He arches an eyebrow at me and I get the hint along with a hot body flush.
    “All right,” I say with a melodramatic sigh. “I’ll go collect blood samples. But I have to tell you, snooping and reading letters is way more fun.”
    “Well, if you’re nice to me,” he says, a hint of suggestion in his voice, “I’ll let you read the rest of them.”
    While I’m generally a pretty straightforward person, I’m not against using my feminine wiles if I think it will get me what I want. Plus, Hurley tends to bring out the vamp in me. So I flash my best coquettish smile at him and say, “Nice? I can do nice.”
    “Yes,” Hurley says, his