Best Girl by Sylvia Warsh Read Free Book Online

the door open farther, waiting for her to screech. But it was dark inside. She wasn’t home. I felt along the wall and turned on the light switch. Small tidy kitchen.
    The living room was dark. I could wait for her there. I groped at a floor lamp in the shadow. Flicked it on.
    I froze. She was lying on the sofa, out cold in her green scrubs. Her pageboy hair fell over her face.
    â€œDiane?” I came closer. A rubber strip was tied around her arm above the elbow.
    I felt sick to my stomach. I knew what the stuff on the coffee table was. A bent spoon, a lighter, a small vial of water, some cotton balls. The needle had dropped to the floor.
    I bent over her. Touched her arm. Shook her a bit. “Diane?” I tried to find a pulse in her wrist. Either she didn’t have one, or I was doing it wrong. Didn’t really matter anyway. She was too cold to be alive. Crazy lady od’d.
    I stood up fast, my heart thumping. I’d never seen a dead body before. It was like a shell. The person inside was gone.
    I used the cell on her coffee table to call 9-1-1. I gave the operator Diane’s address and said I was pretty sure she was dead.
    â€œCan I have your name please?” said the voice on the line.
    I freaked out. I disconnected and dropped the phone like it was on fire. I had to get out of there. This had nothing to do with me. But the cops would jump to conclusions if they found me there. I couldn’t do anything more for Diane.
    I stuck my head into the hall to make sure it was empty. I was about to jump out the door, but something held me back. I turned around and tiptoed back into the living room. Like she was going to wake up.
    I picked up her cell from the rug where it had fallen. My number was in it. The cops would roll through the list and find me. They’d put two and two together and come up with five.
    I dropped the cell into my purse. Then I ran.

CHAPTER NINE
    I took the side streets going home. Still freaking, I looked over my shoulder every other minute. As if someone was following. As if I was guilty of something. The only thing I was guilty of was bad timing. An hour earlier and the 9-1-1 call might’ve helped. Don’t get me wrong— I was sorry Diane was dead. But all I could think of was that I couldn’t ask her any more questions. I would never know any more about my mother.
    When I got home, I took out the only bottle of liquor I owned. Peach brandy that Shelley gave me when I moved out. I instantly felt guilty. I’d been avoiding her calls. There was no one else I could talk to about this. I had to tell somebody.
    I drank down a glass. Then I punched in her number.
    â€œHello?”
    â€œIt’s me,” I said.
    Pause. “Hi, kid.” Her voice had an edge to it. “What’s up?”
    â€œSomething happened. Something terrible.” I heard her breathe into the phone, waiting. “Diane, the one who told me about my mother—I mean my birth mother—she’s dead! I found her lying there. I called nine-one-one. I was so scared…”
    â€œSlow down! When was this?”
    â€œFifteen minutes ago! I just got home. I’m still shaking.”
    â€œThat’s horrible. What did the police say?”
    â€œI didn’t wait around for them.”
    â€œAmbulance guys?”
    â€œI called nine-one-one and took off. You think that was bad?” Suddenly she was my mother again.
    â€œProbably the best thing, considering.”
    Yeah, considering my real mother died in prison.
    â€œWhat were you doing there?”
    â€œI wanted to talk to her. She knew Carol. I had some questions.”
    Hesitation. “You better leave all that behind you.”
    â€œI have to know the truth.”
    â€œIt’ll only hurt you.”
    â€œWhy are you so sure? What if she didn’t do it?”
    She waited a few seconds. Then she said, “I’ve been around a lot longer than you. Trust me. Let it