See Jane Die by Erica Spindler Read Free Book Online

shopkeepers, the wait staff of the neighborhood restaurants she frequented, musicians. They all knew one another. Deep Ellum was small, consisting of only three streets—Elm, Main and Commerce.
    She lived on Commerce, the street that boasted more residential than commercial space. Elm Street was the raucous center of Deep Ellum, alive with restaurants and clubs. Main, a mix of the two, lay between.
    The owner of the corner tattoo parlor lounged in his doorway, having a smoke. A walking advertisement for his work, she had never seen him wearing anything more substantial than a muscle shirt. Today was no exception.
    â€œHey, Snake,” she called. “How’s business?”
    He shrugged and blew out a long stream of smoke. It hung a moment in the cold air before dissipating. “Got a sweet little number just waiting for you, babe. Got the time now. It’d turn your old man on, big time.”
    She smiled. “My old man doesn’t need to be turned on. Besides, I hate needles.” Truth was, after the surgeries, the years of longing for smooth, unmarred skin, the very thought of a tattoo made her shudder.
    Waving goodbye, Jane darted across Commerce Street, heading toward Main. She and Dave had arranged to meet at the Arts Café. One of Jane’s favorite haunts, not only did it serve the best latte in the neighborhood, it featured art by unknown local artists. In fact, the owner had given her her first one-person show.
    She reached the café, stepped inside. The current showing, a series of expressionist paintings titled Scream , assaulted her senses. Their disturbing images and slashes of violent color struck her as derivative, but strong nonetheless. She would bet that with a few more years of experience, the artist’s name would be a familiar one within the Dallas art community.
    Dave sat at the bar, sipping an espresso. Tall, blond and boy-next-door handsome, he stood when he saw her, a smile streaking across his face.
    â€œThe great Cameo, as I live and breathe.”
    Jane laughed and hugged her friend. “Dave, you’re such a nut.”
    He released her, brought a finger to his lips. “Shh, quiet.I’m the shrink. If my patients find out I’m the one who’s nuts, I’m going to have to come and live with you.”
    â€œAnd this would be a bad thing?”
    â€œI love you, Jane, I do. But frankly, the happy couple thing you and Ian have going would cramp my lifestyle.”
    â€œTry it, you might be surprised.”
    â€œAnd give up the bachelor’s life?” He linked his arm through hers and led her to a table by the window. “There’s only one woman I would have done that for, and she saved me by falling in love and marrying someone else.”
    â€œSaved you?” She laughed and squeezed his arm. During their early twenties, they’d promised to marry each other at forty if they were still unattached. Of course, at twenty-one and twenty-two respectively, forty had seemed ancient. A last gasp before senility set in.
    â€œWhat’ll you have? My treat, by the way.”
    â€œA double decaf latte. And one of those fabulous oatmeal-nut muffins.”
    He brought a hand to his heart. “Decaf? You?”
    She hesitated, then said lightly, “It’s never too soon to turn over a new leaf. You should try it.”
    He studied her a moment, as if he knew she was lying, then nodded.
    She watched as he crossed to the bar. She had decided to act on Ian’s suggestion to speak with Dave about her psychological state. But now that she was here, she was nervous.
    Not about revealing herself. About opening a can of psychological worms she wished she could leave closed.
    He returned with the drinks and her muffin. She dove into both, whether with genuine hunger or as a way to avoid the reason for their visit, she wasn’t sure.
    Dave watched her, expression amused. “Skipped lunch?”
    â€œI was