Where They Found Her Read Online Free PDF Page A

to be a total shit-show. Maybe. Sandy lowered her eyes to the man outside her door. He was skinny and short and weaselly, with some gross strands of hair combed over the top of his head. Disgusting. Guys like him always were.
    “You’re Jenna Mendelson?” He squinted skeptically at his clipboard.
    “Who’s asking?” Sandy took another drag and leaned against the door. No need to give up the full-frontal view of the ladies just yet. They might come in handy later.
    “Well, Ms. Mendelson, you’re three months behind on your rent.” He ripped a notice off the top of his pad like a parking ticket and handed it to her.
    Three months? That shouldn’t be. They shouldn’t be a single month late. But with the tutoring and everything lately, Sandy hadn’t had time to get the money order herself, like she usually did. Who knew what the hell Jenna had done with the cash—drunk it, smoked it, given it away. Sandy could be so fucking stupid sometimes. Why the hell had she taken Jenna’s word for it? She should have made sure the money had ended up where it was supposed to go.
    Then again, considering everything, maybe it was a good time for them to be getting the hell out of Ridgedale. Not that Jenna would be easy to convince. About a year ago, she’d mentioned running into some guy from Ridgedale she “used to know” on the street in Philly. Then she’d acted like it was all a big coincidence that they’d ended up back there. But Sandy wasn’t an idiot. Biggest surprise was how long it had taken once they’d moved to town for Jenna to tell Sandy the whole ugly story. Sandy would have sworn she knew every last one of Jenna’s awful secrets, but there had been more. And knowing what had happened to Jenna in Ridgedale all those years ago didn’t change how messed up she was. But it changed the way Sandy saw her. Made ditching Jenna—even now when she probably should have—a total fucking impossibility.
    “We’re not late,” Sandy said. She’d been down this road before. Even if this guy was right, denial might buy them some time. “We’re totally paid up.”
    “You got proof you’ve paid?” the greasy guy asked.
    Sandy curled her body around the door so he could get a good view of her see-through top. She pulled her upper arms together as she leaned forward a little, pressing her tits together. “You could say that I had proof,” she said, rolling her eyes up his pant leg. “Just for a couple days, give us some time, you know?”
    The guy looked Sandy up and down, his eyes lingering on her breasts. Then he snorted and shook his head like Sandy was a disgusting piece of shit. “You’ve got twenty-four hours, miss,” he said. “After that, the place’ll get locked up. If I was you”—he looked at her boobs one last time—“I’d get packing.”
    Sandy took the wrinkled yellow ticket out of the asshole’s hand, then watched him strut his stubby legs down the walkway and disappear. Notice of Pending Eviction , it read across the top. Goddamn, Jenna. Yeah, it was time to go, but did it have to be with a fucking gun to their heads? Thank God Sandy kept an emergency stash—a thousand dollars she’d saved up, in a box behind the couch. It wasn’t enough for three months’ rent, but it would hold them over for a few days someplace new. Somewhere far the fuck away from this place and all its bad goddamn memories.
    Sandy stormed back toward Jenna’s bedroom, the eviction notice crumpled in her fist. “Jenna!” she screamed at the door so loud it burned her throat. “Wake the fuck up!”
    When there was no answer, Sandy kicked the door. It flew open, Sandy bracing herself for the sight of some naked, hairy ass diving for cover. But there was nothing. And no one. Jenna wasn’t there. And from the looks of it, she hadn’t been all night.
    “Fuck,” Sandy said quietly, her anger tightening into a ball at the bottom of her stomach. Where the hell was Jenna? Sandy went over to check her phone for a