Bed of Bones (A Sloane Monroe Novel, Book Five) by Cheryl Bradshaw Read Free Book Online

left a key to the house on the back porch.”
    “I most certainly did not.”
    She pointed. “Uh, yeah, you did.”
    “How did you—”
    “Find it?” she cut in. “Under the doormat—too obvious. Over the door frame—too predictable. But taped to the inside of the broken knob on your barbeque grill? Now that’s clever. I have to admit, it took me over five minutes, but…” she said, digging inside her pocket and dangling it in front of me on the tip of her pointer finger, “here it is. Ta-da.”
    I pointed toward the sofa, unamused. “Sit.”
    “Or what—you’ll call the cops?”
    “Why don’t we start by calling your father? I’m guessing he doesn’t know you’re here, or I would have had some kind of warning by now. Now sit.”
    “Put the gun down.”
    “Sit,” I repeated.
    “Only if you put the gun down first. It’s freaking me out. Seriously.”
    I released the hammer slowly, putting the pistol on safety before depositing it onto the counter. Shelby sat on the edge of the sofa, one butt cheek on, one teetering off. She glared at me as if she’d bolt if she didn’t like what I was about to say.
    “Where’s my dog?” I asked.
    She whistled.
    Lord Berkeley bounded around the corner, collar jingling, bone clenched between his teeth. Today he’d received a big, fat F in the subject of owner protection.
    “Cute dog. What’s her name?”
    “Lord Berkeley,” I said. “Sometimes Boo.”
    “Your dog has two names?”
    “Boo’s a nickname.”
    “Oh I get it, because she’s white.”
    “He.”
    “Well, he tried to eat me when I opened the door,” she said, pointing. “Good thing I had a granola bar in my pocket.”
    A granola bar?
    “How did you know where I live?” I asked.
    “Your return address was on the card you sent my grandmother after my grandfather died.”
    “What are you doing here?”
    “My dad kicked me out.”
    I doubted there was any truth to her statement.
    “What did you do?” I asked.
    “Nothing.”
    “Lie to me again, and I’ll kick you out too.”
    She rolled her eyes so far back inside her head, all I could see were the whites. “All right.” She flopped her body into a slouched position on the sofa, joined her fingers behind her head, and sighed with dramatic flair. “I’ve been, ahh, seein’ this guy Jace for a few weeks. He’s so nice. And cute. And—”
    “Still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here.”
    “I’m getting to it, geez.”
    Only she wasn’t. She was stalling.
    “Last week he kind of got arrested for doing drugs.”
    How do you ‘kind of’ get arrested?
    “And umm…my dad was the one who busted him,” she continued. “Cuffed him right in front of me.”
    Good for him.
    “My dad said I couldn’t see Jace again as long as I was under his roof, which is really my grandmother’s roof while we’re building a house. I tried to tell him that, but…”
    “So you left? Where’s your car?”
    She bobbed her shoulders up and down. “Don’t have one.”
    “Then how did you get here?”
    “I…umm…hitched.”
    “You thumbed a ride?” I asked.
    “Two rides. Why not?”
    “And your dad thinks you’re where exactly?”
    She shrugged.
    “Are you telling me you haven’t talked to him since you left?” I asked.
    She stared down at her sparkly, pink Converse. “I was hopin’ you could…you know…talk to him for me.”
    “And say what?”
    “Convince him to give Jace another chance.” She pressed her hands together like she was summoning a miracle from the Almighty. “Pretty please?”
    It was the nicest she’d ever been to me. Actually, when I thought about it, it was the only time she’d ever been pleasant to me before. She wanted something, and as soon as she got it, she’d revert back into an ignorant teenager again. I shook my head. “I don’t think so. And you shouldn’t be here.”
    She squeezed her eyes shut in frustration. “You have to talk to him! He’ll listen to you.”
    “Is that why you