To Die For by Kathy Braidhill Read Free Book Online

yard was cleverly landscaped with the small, green-dyed rocks favored by retirees. A small fruit-bearing orange tree and pink flowered bushes hugged the house.
    June recognized Dana, Russell Armbrust’s daughter. June occasionally played golf with Russell and Jeri, but had not socialized much since her husband passed away. Between the Canyon Lake Country Club, her card games and golf games, June rarely saw Dana. But when Dana had gotten pregnant last year, June, a fitness buff, had advised her about nutrition and had taken her to a health food store to pick up a few things. Unfortunately, she had heard from Russell that Dana had miscarried the baby, then heard that she had separated from her husband. Now Dana was in her yard.
    June and Dana exchanged greetings and the younger woman asked if she could borrow a book on nutrition, one that June had suggested to her last year when she was pregnant.
    â€œYou know, I’ve been drinking a lot and I need to get back on track,” Dana said. “I need your help. Maybe that book would help.”
    June smiled and said she knew exactly which one to get her. She disappeared inside the house and emerged moments later with the book. As she handed it over, she expressed sympathy for Dana and wished her the best.
    Dana, a frozen smile on her face, glanced at the book and shook her head.
    How dare you judge me? You have no reason to judge me.
    â€œNo, this isn’t the right one,” she said. “I think it’s the other one you recommended. You know, it had to do with nutrition. Maybe I can find it on your bookshelf.”
    June hesitated slightly. Eager to get ready for her canasta game, June turned to go back inside, chattering away. Dana followed silently and shut the door behind her.
    It will be real quick.
    They walked in through the laundry room where June had plopped her purse on the dryer, down a short hallway and left into the den. June made small talk and Dana responded cheerfully, but deliberately lagged behind, quickly wriggling her hands into latex gloves while looking around for what she needed. With June’s back turned, Dana quickly unplugged both the long, straight cord that connected the phone to the wall, and an extra-long, curly cord that attached to the receiver. She dropped the straight cord.
    June walked around her desk and stood between it and a set of bookshelves stocked with books on religion and nutrition.
    â€œWhich one did you have in mind?” June asked, turning around to face Dana.
    How dare you give me that look of disgust?
    â€œDown there on the bottom shelf,” Dana said, coming up behind June as she turned her back on Dana to scan the bookshelves.
    With a minimalist’s eerie efficiency and sense of purpose, Dana quickly wrapped the curly phone cord once, then twice around June’s neck and jerked it backward. June’s head snapped back and she clutched at her neck, clawing the cord.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” June managed to croak.
    Dana’s eyes were cold. There was no hate, no malice, no excitement, just a look of determination.
    â€œYou can’t … do this to me!” June gasped.
    â€œRelax. Just relax,” Dana said in a low, quiet voice, as if comforting a small child. She held the cord taut as June violently struggled. Dana assumed a wide, athletic stance, leaning backward like a water skier, using her body weight to cinch June’s neck. The older woman arched back, trying to relieve the backward pull on her neck, and frantically tried, with both hands, to pull the cord away. Tanned and trim, June fought back, twisting and turning her body to shake off her assailant. As June fought for her life, her hairband was torn from her hair and her slip-on shoes were ripped from her feet. The two women careened around the small den, knocking over a heavy ottoman. In one explosive, violent move, Dana knocked June to the floor and straddled her. Weak from the fight, June couldn’t