Drop Dead Gorgeous by Heather Graham Read Free Book Online

would help her sleep, and she was going to sleep, and sleep well.
    You won’t think about him, she told herself. You won’t, you won’t, you won’t …
    So determined, she started up the stairs. Then she remembered that Ellie had been murdered, and that some kind of a psycho was running around the city.
    Lots of psychos were probably running around the city. It was a big place.
    But she needed to forget Sean and be a responsible adult. Make sure that her new home was secure. She resolutely checked her doors and windows, went upstairs, changed into a tailored cotton nightgown, and lay down.
    Poor Ellie.
    Sean …
    She could remember Ellie’s face that day at the rock pit when Mandy …
    When Mandy had died.
    When Mandy had been murdered.
    Now Ellie was dead, too. Murdered.
    And Sean was back in town …
    Jesus, no, dear God, what was she thinking?
    No, Sean wasn’t responsible.
    Go to sleep! she raged silently to herself. Forget it, don’t think, don’t dream.
    And for God’s sake …
    Don’t remember.
     
     
    S ean sat in his hotel room, staring blankly at the television. The news reporter was rehashing the information about Eleanor Metz.
    Hell. Ellie was dead. Even though the pretty young reporter was far more dramatic than a newswoman should be, her description of the death Ellie had faced didn’t begin to come up to the horror he’d realized seeing the body. He hadn’t seen Ellie in fifteen years, but time had eroded painfully for him as he had stood there, seeing her as she lay naked, cold, brutalized. He shuddered, stared at the glass of scotch in his hands, and swallowed down two inches of the stuff. Then a fearful, creeping feeling came over him, and he remembered why he’d poured the drink in the first place. Memories. Ellie made him think of Mandy.
    And Lori Kelly. Corcoran. She’d married; his brother had told him about it years back, but the husband had died long ago as well, and she’d been living in New York with her little boy. And he’d thought, good for her, God bless her! With so many assholes in the world, there had also been a few Lori Kellys. She’d been a cherished friend.
    Except that for some reason after that day at the rock pit, his bitterness against her had been, in a way, greater than that he’d felt toward the others. The assholes were just assholes. Lori should have …
    Should have what?
    She’d testified at his trial. Soft-spoken, determined. She’d been loyal, trying to defend his character. But the lawyer from the D.A.’s office had grilled her as if she were on trial, and she hadn’t been able to lie on the stand. She had admitted that Mandy had been acting wildly and that it would have been natural if he’d been in a jealous rage. When it had been over, her parents had all but jerked her away from any contact with him as if he were diseased—or as if they were afraid that he was a homicidal maniac and would make her pay for her words—and he hadn’t spoken with her since.
    So long ago now. So fucking long ago.
    She didn’t look any different. Tall, slim, still classically beautiful with her huge hazel eyes and the long reddish blond hair that still waved down her back. She had a way about her, a way of listening, or responding, or really hearing, of looking beyond the obvious, of seeing … even what he hadn’t wanted seen. She’d always been his friend, since that first day. Even if she’d dated ye olde preppy boyfriend of yacht club status, while Sean had sown wild oats with Mandy. He found himself thinking of the cartoon character Jessica Rabbit. Mandy hadn’t been bad; she’d just drawn herself that way. She’d wanted so much, and she’d been in such a hurry to get it—a Madonna ahead of her time. He’d cared about Mandy, but they never would have made it. And he hadn’t been angry with her— things between them had died long before Mandy had lost her life that day.
    Mandy had needed a ladder, a guy to crawl up. She wanted everything the world had