Death's Door by Meryl Sawyer Read Free Book Online

real, you could almost smell it.
    She rushed up to the back door. For a moment she paused and gazed up at the flawless blue sky, feeling inexplicably troubled. The key fit in the lock and the door creaked open inch by inch. She brushed her odd reaction aside and stepped into a small service area with a washer and dryer.
    A noxious odor she couldn’t identify hung in the close, humid air and made her stomach roil. Obviously, Erin had burned a funky candle. She opened the door leading into the kitchen and was greeted by a golden retriever with runny eyes. A small pile of dog poop accounted for the odor. Why hadn’t Erin let this dog out?
    “Hi, there. What’s your name?” When had Erin gotten a dog? She hadn’t mentioned a word about it when they’d gone out on Friday. She’d probably found the retriever at the rescue center and couldn’t resist even though her lease specified no pets. With Erin, you never knew what was going on.
    “Erin, it’s me,” she called out, in case her friend was still home but hadn’t heard the bell. No response.
    The dog kept scratching at the door. She opened it and he charged through the service area and out to the small backyard. He immediately lifted a leg on a low-hanging bush.
    “You’re a boy,” she muttered, more to herself than the dog. He trotted back to her and she bent down to check his collar. It looked brand-new. “So, your name is Aspen.”
    The dog cocked his head and looked up at her. His eyes were tearing the way some poodles’ did, leaving brown stains on their fur. She wondered if something was wrong with the retriever. Maybe that’s why Erin had brought him home.
    She led Aspen back inside. The odor she’d smelled earlier was worse now. She covered her nose with her hand. On the counter was a fly-covered pizza box clearly left over from Friday night. Typical Erin. She wasn’t much for housekeeping.
    Next to the box was a manila envelope marked “Aspen.” Coiled beside it was a nylon leash. She held her breath while she opened the unsealed envelope and found a bill of sale inside for a male golden retriever, age three years and seven months.
    Erin had purchased the dog for twenty-five dollars. Interesting. It wasn’t much for a purebred, but maybe something was wrong with it, like an eye problem. And it wasn’t Erin’s style to buy a dog. She didn’t believe in buying from breeders when there were so many homeless animals, many of whom had to be put down when homes weren’t found for them. Yet she had purchased this dog. Very odd.
    Madison returned the paper to the envelope and closed it. On the back flap, Erin had written something so quickly that it was difficult to read. “Rob—Monday noon. Don’t be late.”
    Interesting, she thought. Very interesting. Madison had always believed Erin and Robert Matthews were meant to be together, but they’d broken up. Erin hadn’t mentioned the veterinarian in months.
    Madison decided to leave the dog in the kitchen. Obviously, Erin had her reasons for keeping Aspen there. She opened thedoor to the small space that served as a living room with a dining area off to one side. With all the blinds drawn, it was hot, dark and uninviting.
    She let the kitchen door close behind her. A denser cloud of the horrible, cloying smell saturated the air. The stench sent her stomach into a backflip. A fly zoomed by her nose, closely followed by a second one. The odor of urine was also present. That must be why Erin had left the dog in the kitchen. He wasn’t properly trained.
    Despite the room’s darkness, she managed to spot her silver cell phone gleaming on the coffee table where she’d left it. She charged forward to pick it up and nearly tripped over something protruding from the shadows between the sofa and coffee table.
    A bare foot.
    The thought scarcely registered when she saw something on the floor. A naked body? She squinted, her eyes adjusting to what light had stolen into the room. The form was sprawled across