The Scum of All Fears: Squeaky Clean Mysteries, Book 5 Read Online Free PDF Page A

tugged his collar, “well, something I shouldn’t have called him, sponsors have been dropping my show.”
    “Ouch.” I couldn’t begin to imagine what had come out of his mouth. Once Bill got going, there was no stopping him, and no thought was left unspoken.
    There was a lot to be said for remaining quiet and appearing wise . What was that Bible verse? Even a fool is thought wise if he keeps silent, and discerning if he holds his tongue.
    I’d been in Bill’s position before, unfortunately. My impulsiveness and brashness did get the best of me sometimes.
    O nly once in a while, for that matter.
    Okay, quite often.
    “It’s like I said. I think my luck is turning around.” He nodded and grinned, a far off look in his eyes. “It’s turning around.” He waved at me and disappeared back inside his apartment.
    Well, good for him. I hoped good things did come his way. He’d certainly been miserable for long enough. Of course, if he wasn’t so angry all the time, ratings for his show might really drop.
    I didn’t have time to worry about it. I had to worry about cleaning this next crime scene and getting paid. This homeowner was using their insurance, which meant it would take forever for me to collect my compensation. It meant I’d have to haggle with the adjustor, who seemed to always have all the time in the world. But I’d take whatever jobs I could get. After all, I had student loans to pay.
    I stopped cold when I saw my van.
    Clarice leaned against it, a bright smile on her face. She waved enthusiastically, an energy drink in her hands and Converse on her feet. She was already wearing her trendy, oversized glasses, which seemed unexpected from someone as prissy as Clarice.
    I wanted to run the other way or pretend like I didn’t see her. I couldn’t do either. Instead, I plastered on a smile and walked toward my van.
    “Hello, Clarice.”
    “You almost sound like that guy from The Silence of the Lambs . Isn’t that crazy? Hello, Clarice,” she imitated before laughing. “That’s so psycho.”
    Great, I was starting to sound like Hannibal Lector. This was what my life had come to. Next, I’d be talking about fava beans.
    “So psycho,” I repeated. I pulled my purse higher and sucked in a long, deep breath as I gathered my thoughts. “So, you’re here. And you’re wearing designer jeans again, I see.”
    “You didn’t think one crime scene was going to scare me off, did you?” She tilted her head a moment before tugging at the leg of her jeans. “And these are last year’s designer jeans, so I figured they’d be okay.”
    “How’d you know what time I was leaving? I didn’t think we’d discussed that.”
    “I’ve been here since 7. Auntie Sharon said you like to start early. I didn’t want to bother you in your apartment, though, so I just decided to wait outside. No one’s going to say I’m a bad employee this time. Nope. That’s not happening again. I’m getting all gold stars with this job-a-roo.”
    Perfect, I thought to myself. I wasn’t getting rid of her, was I? I forced another smile and nodded toward my van. “Let’s go, then.”
    Sharon. I wished I believed in voodoo. I might buy a doll with pink hair and a nose ring if I did. Of course, I was a Christian now, and as a Christian I was constantly reminded of both my need for forgiveness and my need to forgive. Sometimes it felt like I’d be struggling with those concepts for the rest of my life.
    We started down the road. I tried to turn up the radio and listen to “Welcome to My Nightmare” by Alice Cooper. Instead, Clarice was talking about the crime scene yesterday and her sorority sisters. I tuned her out and tried to concentrate on driving.
    “Oh my gosh! Did you see that?” Clarice screeched.
    I nearly slammed on brakes. I looked for a lost dog about to wander aimlessly in front of my van. A woman being mugged. A nude man playing guitar on the street corner.
    I saw nothing but a busy highway snaking through